now about that, Sixpence," he said. "You have been a pretty
_schelm_ sort of a boy, you know. Besides, you would have killed me,
you and that other. Who is he, by the way?"

"One of Baas Ferreira's boys, Baas," naming a Dutchman whose farm
adjoined the river on the other side.

"Well, and which of you was it that planned this _slaag_?"

The Kafir shrugged his shoulders.

"We did it between us, Baas," he said, and the answer moved Wyvern the
more to let him down easy, though fully alive to the bad policy of doing
so, for he appreciated the fact that the fellow had not tried to save
himself by throwing the blame on his accomplice.

They had reached the place where Wyvern had left his horse, and now as
he mounted he said:

"Now walk on in front of me, Sixpence. I shall think seriously over
what I shall do about you. You would get ever so many years in the
_tronk_ you know, for coming at me with the knife--and that apart from
what you'd get for `slaag-ing' the sheep. I expect the other fellow is
dead by this time. The snake struck him again and again."

"_Nkose_!" murmured the Kafir deprecatorily, then relapsed into silence.
Before they had gone far Wyvern said:

"Go back to your flock, Sixpence. I expect it has straggled a good bit
by this time. But--" impressively--"don't attempt to run away. You are
sure to be caught if you do, and then you will have thrown away your
last chance."

"_Nkose_!" murmured the Kafir again, and bending down he kissed his
master's foot as it rested in the stirrup. Then he walked away.

"Poor devil," said Wyvern to himself, gazing after him as he rode on.
"Well, we are all poor devils--I the most of the lot. I believe I could
almost bring myself to envy that ochre-smeared scion of Xosa. He
doesn't need much, and gets it all, while I--?"

CHAPTER TWO.

LALANTE.

Riding slowly home Wyvern's thoughts took on no more cheerful a vein as
he looked round upon his farm, which would soon be his no longer. It
never ought to have been his at all. He had started by paying far too
much for it. He had been struck by the pleasant situation of the place,
and was determined to have it at all costs. Further, it was bad veldt,
being, in stock-farming parlance, "boer-ed out," that is to say
exhausted. It required years of rest what time he took it up, but
Wyvern started about three thousand sheep upon it, and contentedly,
though unconsciously, prepared to watch their decimation