ff.
Good-bye."

"Not yet; I'm going to ride a little way back with you," cried Dyke.

"No, you are not, lad. Rest yourself and your horse.--Here! Hi!
Jack!"

The Kaffir came from under the wagon, grinning.

"Drive your bullocks carefully, and bring them back in good condition."

The man smiled and showed his teeth.

"That's right. Go along and have your sleep."

The Kaffir went back and crept under the wagon, and Emson clasped his
brother's hand.

"Take your time, but don't lose any, old fellow," he said; "for I shall
be glad to see you back. Take care of yourself. I wish I were going
with you, but I can't. There, you are man enough to manage everything,
so good-bye."

He urged his horse forward and went back swiftly along the trail, his
nag cantering steadily along one of the broad ruts made by the wagon
wheels in the sand, while Dyke went and seated himself just under the
wagon-tilt, and watched him till he was out of view.

"Six days and nights at the least," said Dyke to himself with a sigh,
"and perhaps a fortnight, before I get back. Never mind; every day will
be one less, and I don't suppose I shall mind its being lonely, after
all. Duke's good company, and so is Breezy, without counting Jack, and
it isn't so very bad after all to go riding through the country with
one's own tent on wheels. Why, some fellows at home would be mad with
joy to get such a chance. Ah, look at that. Why, if I'd been ready, I
might have got a couple of Guinea-fowl for the larder."

For a flock of the curious speckled birds came and settled amongst the
bushes on the other side of the water pool, but catching sight of
visitors, went off with a tremendous outcry.

"Don't matter," said Dyke; "there's plenty of the buck."

The sun was sinking low in the west, as after a long, toilsome journey
from the last water, Dyke, with the great whip held aloft like a large
fishing-rod and line, sat on the wagon-box shouting to the weary oxen
from time to time. He was apparently quite alone, save that Breezy was
tethered by a long leathern rein to the back of the wagon. There was no
Kaffir Jack, no Duke; and the boy, as he sat driving, looked weary, worn
out, and disconsolate.

For days past he had been upon a faintly-marked track leading
south-west--a track in which hoof-marks and the traces of wagon wheels
having passed that way were faintly to be seen, quite sufficient to show
him that he was on the right track for civi