ool of the year, three men sat out in the
Veldt in South Africa, talking and laughing over their camp fire. A few
Kaffir drivers and huntsmen were similarly engaged at a second fire at
some little distance. The light of the burning wood revealed fitfully
the shape of the great waggon in the background, and the sound of
munching behind it told of the presence of the team of oxen which had
dragged it northwards from Bulawayo. Later on, when they trekked up into
the lion-zone, the district in which lions and other dangerous beasts
might be expected to visit them by night, if the way were left open for
them, it would be necessary to encircle their camp with a ring of
thorn-bushes or some other obstacles; but at present the party was only
on the way to the hunting grounds, and it was still safe to run the
risks of lions.

The three men were all English, or at least British, and all fairly
young. Their names were Captain the Honourable Edward Vandeleur, Bobby
Oakfield, an Indian civilian on a year's furlough, and Ralph Denison, a
rich young man with nothing to do except to indulge his love of sport,
whether fox-hunting, salmon-fishing, grouse-driving, or, as now,
big-game shooting in any part of the world where large beasts were to be
found.

Vandeleur, commonly known as Teddy, seemed to be the chief speaker this
night; he was, at the moment of our introduction to the party,
explaining a suggestion which he had just made to his friends. This is
what he said:--

'We are likely to have longish watches over our camp fires, and perhaps
we may get a bit tired of conversation night after night, with nothing
much to talk about; now why not start a round of story-telling, each to
spin a yarn in turn, one every evening, unless we should happen to feel
more inclined for a talk, in which case we miss a day. Anybody who can't
think of a tale must pay a fine of a shilling, the winner to take the
total at the end.'

'Yes, but who is the winner?' asked Oakfield, laughing, 'The one who
tells the best yarns?'

'Oh, no! who would be judge? The one who has had to pay the fewest fines
takes the prize,' Denison said with a laugh.

'Good old Teddy!' he cried, 'he has a large collection of yarns all
ready up his sleeve, Bobby, and he wants our shillings! Well, you shall
have them willingly, old chap, if you keep us amused! Start at once--go
on!'

'Why not draw lots for first yarn?' suggested Bobby, and the others fell
in with the suggesti