l, Jack, the treaty is signed at last," said Robert Skyd to his
brother, as he sat on his counter in Grahamstown, drumming with his
heels.

"Not too soon," replied John Skyd, taking a seat on the same convenient
lounge. "It has cost us something: houses burnt all over the
settlement, from end to end; crops destroyed; cattle carried off, and,
worst of all, trade almost ruined--except in the case of lucky fellows
like you, Bob, who sell to the troops."

"War would not have broken out at all," returned Bob, "if the Kafirs had
only been managed with a touch of ordinary common sense in times past.
Our losses are tremendous. Just look at the Kafir trade, which last
year I believe amounted to above 40,000 pounds,--_that's_ crushed out
altogether in the meantime, and won't be easily revived. Kafirs in
hundreds were beginning to discard their dirty karosses, and to buy
blankets, handkerchiefs, flannels, baize, cotton, knives, axes, and what
not, while the traders had set up their stores everywhere in Kafirland--
to say nothing of your own business, Jack, in the gum, ivory, and
shooting way, and our profits thereon. We were beginning to flourish so
well, too, as a colony. I believe that we've been absorbing annually
somewhere about 150,000 pounds worth of British manufactured articles--
not to mention other things, and now--Oh, Jack, mankind is a monstrous
idiot!"

"Peace comes too late for us, Gertie," said Hans Marais to his wife, on
their return to the old homestead on the karroo, which presented nothing
but a blackened heap of dry mud, bricks, and charred timbers; herds and
flocks gone--dreary silence in possession--the very picture of
desolation.

"Better late than never," remarked Charlie Considine sadly. "We must
just set to work, re-stock and re-build. Not so difficult to do so as
it might have been, however, owing to that considerate uncle of mine.
We're better off than some of our poor neighbours who have nothing to
fall back upon. They say that more than 3000 persons have been reduced
to destitution; 500 farm-houses have been burnt and pillaged; 900
horses, 55,000 sheep and goats, and above 30,000 head of cattle carried
off, only a few of which were recovered by Colonel Smith on that
expedition when Hintza was killed. However, we'll keep up heart and go
to work with a will--shan't we, my little wife!"

Bertha--now Bertha Considine--who leaned on Charlie's arm, spoke not
with her lips, but she lifted her