e hope, a very wild one, of crippling him
with the little Purdey rifle. Indeed, he was about to fire at the hind
leg when Marut made his run for life and plunged into the lake. Then he
crawled on to lead me away to the camel, but when he was within a few
yards the chase returned our way and Marut was killed.

From that moment he waited for an opportunity to shoot Jana in the only
spot where so soft a bullet would, as he knew, have the faintest chance
of injuring him vitally--namely, in the eye--for he was sure that its
penetration would not be sufficient to reach the vitals through that
thick hide and the mass of flesh behind. With an infinite and wonderful
patience he waited, knowing that my life or death hung in the balance.
While Jana held his foot over me, while he felt me with his trunk, still
Hans waited, balancing the arguments for and against firing upon the
scales of experience in his clever old mind, and in the end coming to a
right and wise conclusion.

At length his chance came, the brute exposed his eye, and by the light
of the clear moon Hans, always a very good shot at a distance when it
was not necessary to allow for trajectory and wind, let drive and _hit_.
The bullet did not get to the brain as he had hoped; it had not strength
for that, but it destroyed this left eye and gave Jana such pain that
for a while he forgot all about me and everything else except escape.

Such was the Hottentot's tale as I picked it up from his laconic,
colourless, Dutch _patois_ sentences, then and afterwards; a very
wonderful tale I thought. But for him, his fidelity and his bushman's
cunning, where should I have found myself before that moon set?

We mounted the camel after I had paused a minute to take a pull from
a flask of brandy which remained in the saddlebags. Although he loved
strong drink so well Hans had saved it untouched on the mere chance
that it might some time be of service to me, his master. The monkey-like
Hottentot sat in front and directed the camel, while I accommodated
myself as best I could on the sheepskins behind. Luckily they were thick
and soft, for Jana's pinch was not exactly that of a lover.

Off we went, picking our way carefully till we reached the elephant
track beyond the mound where Jana had appeared, which, in the light of
faith, we hoped would lead us to the River Tava. Here we made better
progress, but still could not go very fast because of the holes made by
the feet of Jana an