st placed a pad of cotton-wool,
some of which she happened to have in the cart, upon it, she bound her
handkerchief tightly round his head. The man, brute as he was, appeared
to be much touched at her kindness.

"Almighty," he said, "but you have a kind heart and soft fingers; my own
wife could not have done it better; it is a pity that you are a damned
Englishwoman."

Jess climbed back into the cart, making no reply, and they started on,
the Vilderbeeste looking more savage and unhuman than ever with the
discoloured handkerchief round his head, and his dense black beard and
hair mattered with gore which he would not take the trouble to wash out
of them.

After this nothing further occurred till, by the orders of their escort,
they outspanned, an hour or so before sunset, at a spot in the veldt
where a faint track forked from the Standerton road.

CHAPTER XXIII

IN THE DRIFT OF THE VAAL

The day had been intensely hot, and our travellers sat in the shade of
the cart overpowered and gasping. During the afternoon a faint breeze
blew, but this had now died away, and the stifling air felt as thick as
though they were breathing cream. Even the two Boers seemed to feel the
heat, for they lay outstretched on the grass a few paces to the left, to
all appearance fast asleep. As for the horses, they were thoroughly done
up--too much so to eat--and hobbled along as well as their knee-halters
would allow, daintily picking a mouthful here and a mouthful there. The
only person who did not seem to mind was the Zulu Mouti, who sat on
an ant-heap near the horses, in full glare of the setting sun, and
comfortably droned out a little song of his own invention, for Zulus
seem as clever at improvising as are the Italians.

"Have another egg, Jess?" said John. "It will do you good."

"No, thank you; the last one stuck in my throat. It is impossible to eat
in this heat."

"You had better. Goodness knows when and where we shall stop again. I
can get nothing out of our delightful escort; either they don't know or
they won't say."

"I can't, John. There is a thunderstorm coming up. I feel it in my head,
and I can never eat before a thunderstorm--and when I am tired," she
added by an afterthought.

After that the conversation flagged for a while.

"John," said Jess at last, "where do you suppose we are going to camp
to-night? If we follow the main road we shall reach Standerton in an
hour."

"I don't think that they will go