roning boom of a great beetle mingling with the shrill,
whistling voice of tree frogs. Man is silent, but Nature never.

Along the ridge overlooking Babatyana's kraals a dusty waggon road winds
like a riband, distinguishable from the darker veldt in the starlight.
It follows the apex of the ridge, and is just the place to avoid during
those dry thunder-storms which in Natal seem to hunt in couples nearly
every day during the hot months. Then the wayfarer may well leave the
highway, and dive down into one of the bushy kloofs on either side, and
wait until the turmoil passes; for the lightning will strike down upon
that high, exposed pathway, every sheeting flash not much less dangerous
than a shell from hostile artillery.

To-night, however, the elements are at peace, but man is represented by
a single unit.

Natives, as a rule, are not given to wandering about alone at night, but
this one is obviously here with a purpose. Like a statue he stands,
gazing down the road as though on the look-out for something or
somebody. He is a tall man, and ringed: and as he wraps his blanket
closer around him--for there is a tinge of chill in the night air--and
takes a few paces, it might be seen that he walks with a slight limp.

Another hour goes by, and still he stands, ever watchful, and suffering
nothing to escape him, for the patience of the savage is inexhaustible.
And now a glow suffuses the far horizon, widening and brightening; then
the broad disc of a full moon soars redly aloft, and lo, the land is
steeped in subdued unearthly light--plain, and ridge, and distant
mountain, all stand revealed; and the clusters of domed huts in the
broad valley beneath show out sharply defined. But these are no longer
silent. First a low, long-drawn wail, then another and another from
different points, culminating in still more drawn out howls, and the
dismal sounds echo through the silence in weird cadence. Half the curs
in the slumbering kraals are baying the newly risen moon.

Her light falls full upon the watcher, throwing out his tall form into
statuesque relief, and glinting on the polished shine of his head-ring.
But for the limp his gait as he slowly paces up and down would be a
stately one. Even then there is an unconscious dignity about the man,
as with head held proudly aloft, he gazes out over the moonlit expanse,
and it is the dignity of a natural ruler of men.

Suddenly he stops short in his walk, and stands, listen