and refined girls. The elder was
in creamy white, relieved by a flower or two, which set off her soft
dark beauty to perfection; the other was garbed in some light blue
gossamer sort of arrangement which matched her eyes and went wonderfully
with her golden hair, and ladies, if you want anything more definitely
descriptive I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, for what do I, Godfrey
Glanton, trader in the Zulu, know about such awesome and wondrous
mysteries? I only know--and that I do know--when anything appeals to me
as perfect and not to be improved upon--and the picture which these two
presented certainly did so appeal.

Outside, the blaze of sunlight--rich, full, and golden, without being
oppressive or overpowering--lay slumbrous upon the sheeny roll of
foliage. Here and there the red face of a krantz gleamed like bronze,
and away on a distant spur the dark ring of a native kraal sent upward
its spiral of blue smoke. Bright winged little sugar birds flitted
familiarly in and out among the passion flower creeper which helped to
shade the stoep, quite unaffected by our presence and conversation--
though half scared temporarily as a laugh would escape Falkner or
myself. Striped butterflies hovered among the sunflowers in front, and
the booming hum of large bees mingled with the shriller whizz of
long-waisted hornets sailing in and out of their paper-like nests under
the roof--and at these if they ventured too low, Arlo, whose graceful
white form lay curled up beside his mistress' chair, would now and again
fling up his head with a vicious snap. The scene, the hour, was one of
the most perfect and restful peace: little did we think, we who sat
there, enjoying it to the full, what of horror and dread lay before us
ere we should look upon such another.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE MYSTERY OF THE WATERHOLE.

Suddenly Arlo sprang up, barking furiously.

"Shut up, you brute," growled Falkner, for this sudden interruption had,
as he put it, made him jump. But the dog heeded him not, as he sprang
up and rushed down the steps still giving vehement tongue.

"Be quiet, Arlo, do you hear!" ordered his mistress. "It's only
Ivondwe."

The calm clear voice commanded obedience where Falkner's bluster did
not. To the furious barking succeeded a series of threatening growls,
not loud but deep. In the midst of which the innocent cause of the
disturbance appeared, smiling, and as little perturbed by this sudden
and rather fo