Hardy, too, he tells a nice story about the cobra inthe tree, but not so nice as my story about the big boa."

  "Your story--an adventure of your own, like the leap off thehippopotamus's head, eh? Let us hear it by all means, Matamo."

  "Yes, sir. It happened a great many years ago. I had been sent on anerrand to the Kasal Mountains. A fat old Dutchman seized me, and wouldnot believe my story, but made a slave of me. If I said a word, he tiedme up to the cart-wheel and flogged me with the jambok. One day he sentme after an ox that had strayed. He was always afraid that I should runaway, and if I was any time out, came to meet me with the jambok readyin his hand. I couldn't find the ox anywhere, but I thought I sawsomething moving in a thick bush, and I fancied it might be the straybeast. I forced my way inside, and trod on what I thought was the endof a log. But it was a great boa, not a log. The boa put up its headand was going to spring; but I ran like a springbok, and the boa afterme. I never went so fast in my life, but the boa went faster. Just onthe edge of the wood, I saw the fat Dutchman coming with the whip. Whenthe Dutchman saw the boa, he too turned and ran. But I ran faster thanthe Dutchman anyhow. The boa thought he was better eating than a leanBechuana boy, and he caught him round the waist and twisted himself allabout him. The Dutchman was so big that the boa only went twice roundhim. He bellowed for help so loud that every one could hear him, sothere was no need for me to tell them."

  "What did you do then, Matamo?"

  "I ran away as fast as I could, and went home to Mr Baylen."

  "I suppose the Dutchman was killed, wasn't he?"

  "Yes, sir. The big snake ground him up like corn in a mill,--jambok andall," added Matamo significantly.

  "Well, you must tell that story to Mr Prestcott and Mr Hardy. I don'tthink either of them could beat it."

  "Ah, but I had another escape, from a rhinoceros, closer than that,"said the Bechuana, evidently much gratified at George's approval.

  "Closer than that!" said George. "It must have been a near one, then,indeed. Let us hear it, by all means."

  "It was in the rocky country above Standerton," said Matamo. "I washunting, and had to climb some steep crags two or three hundred feethigh, and in some places as steep as a wall. I got to the top, and satdown to rest under a small tree that grew close to the edge of theprecipice. Presently I got up and went on to the wood, where there wereplenty of elands and antelopes. All of a moment a big female rhinocerosbroke out and ran at me. I put up my gun and hit her just in the rightplace, and she dropped. I was going to load again, when I saw closebehind her the male rhinoceros, and he made a rush at me. There was notime to load. I threw my gun away, and ran for it as hard as I could.But the precipice was right in front, and no room to turn to the rightor the left. The rhinoceros is very swift of foot. He was close behindme as I approached the edge. I thought we should both go over together,but just at the last moment I seized the bole of the tree and swungmyself round. The rhinoceros couldn't catch hold of the tree, andcouldn't stop himself. Over he went in a moment, and I heard him strikethe ground three hundred feet down. I went below and took a look athim. He was smashed to atoms."

  "That was a close shave too," said George. "But come, Matamo, it istime we were off again. The horses must be fully rested."

  They remounted, and proceeded for several hours. But for some reasonthey did not make good progress. The horse ridden by the Bechuanaappeared to be completely tired out, and could with difficulty be urgedto an easy trot. The moon had set while they were still fully threemiles from Koodoo's Vley, and Matamo declared it would not be safe toproceed further that night.

  He off-saddled his horse with more care than usual, and, instead ofknee-haltering and turning him out to graze as usual, secured him by aheadstall under the shelter of some trees, and brought him some grassand water. But the animal, though it drank thirstily, seemed unable toeat, and presently lay down, too much exhausted, apparently, by itsday's journey to stand.

  "Bad job this, Mr Rivers," said Matamo, after carefully noting thehorse's condition.

  "What do you think is the matter with him?" inquired Rivers.

  "The horse-sickness, sir. I've been afraid of it for an hour or two,but there is no doubt of it now. It is less common at this time of theyear, but it happens sometimes."

  "Can't anything be done?" asked George. "I know this horse-sickness isa strange malady, which no one seems to understand. But is there reallyno cure for it?"

  "None that I have ever heard of," was the answer. "Yes, he's gettingworse. He'll die; nothing can cure him."

  "Has he been bitten by the tsetse, do you think?" asked George.

  "The tsetse? no, sir. The tsetse is not found here; there is no mistakeabout it, where it is found. I know it well, and its buzz too. It iscertain to kill any horse it attacks, or ox either."

  "Doesn't it hurt a man, then?" inquired George.

  "It never bites a man, or a donkey, or a mule. But what this poor brutehas is the horse-sickness, and nobody knows either the cause or the cureof that."

  An hour or two afterwards Matamo's predictions were verified. As thedarkness came on, the poor brute's malady got worse. Its flanks heaved;it drew its breath with ever-increasing difficulty; its tongue lolledfrom the jaws, which were tightly clenched on it. Then violentconvulsions came on, and it expired.

  "What is to be done now, Matamo? Can you go on with me on foot?" askedGeorge. "We could ride alternately, you know; of course we should notgo nearly as fast, but we should get there in time."

  "I am very sorry, Mr Rivers, but I can't go. Mr Baylen wants me back.I must have returned to Horner's Kraal the very day after the partyreached Lichtenberg."

  George remembered that Mr Baylen, while they were at Colenso, had toldhim that the time of the year when he could never spare Matamo was thespring. At the time when he made George the offer of the Bechuana'sservices, there had been no idea of the journey to Zeerust being delayedso long. He felt, therefore, that he ought not to urge Matamo to remainlonger with him. But, on the other hand, if he returned to Heidelbergwith Matamo, and obtained another guide, at least a week would be lost.Knowing his mother's anxiety and distress, he was most unwilling toprotract them. Besides, he could remain only a certain time at Umtongo,and he would not cut that any shorter, if he could help it.

  "Do you think I could find my way by myself, Matamo, if you gave me fulldirections?" he asked.

  "I am not able to say that, sir. I will tell you the way as well as Ican. But if you go on to Koodoo's Vley, you will find the Kaffirs'kraal, which is close to it, and they will show you the way to Mansen'sfarm, if you pay them money. The Kaffirs will go anywhere for money,and they know the place well."

  With this George was obliged to be contented, and, having obtained themost minute directions as regarded the road to Koodoo's Vley, which layonly two miles off, he said goodbye to the Bechuana on the followingmorning and rode off alone. There was no difficulty in finding his way,Matamo's directions having been very clear, and the landmarks easy tofind. He proceeded, however, cautiously, and in about two hours reachedthe Vley, which he clearly enough recognised, as well as the Kaffirkraal, standing, as Matamo had described it, on the banks of a smallstream and in an open glade surrounded by a wood. But, to his greatdisappointment, it was wrecked and deserted. Either there had been aquarrel with some hostile tribe, or a Dutch commando had been sentagainst it. But, whichever may have been the case, all its inhabitantswere gone. George searched all round, but could nowhere find one singleKaffir.

  He was now greatly troubled. Relying on Matamo's assurance of meetingwith a guide, he had not even taken any instructions from him as to theway to his mother's house. He only knew in a general way that it lay tothe north-west. He would at once have ridden back and endeavoured toovertake Matamo, but he reflected that the Bechuana, being now on foot,would probably take a shorter way to Heidelberg, which he had beenunable to follow while on horseback. There was only, in fact, thealtern
ative of going on, in what he knew must be at least the rightdirection, or return to the town. After a long debate, he determined onthe former course. He took out his pocket compass, and turned hishorse's head directly to the north-west.

  He rode on for seven or eight hours, and presently the aspect of thecountry changed. An open stretch of veldt succeeded to the mingledforest and scrub and jungle through which he had been passing. Thegrass grew up to his horse's hocks, and in some places up to itsshoulder. Suddenly there came a rush through the grass, and ahartebeest, closely pursued by a pack of wild dogs, rushed by him Georgehad not hitherto come much into contact with these creatures,