The Fire Trumpet: A Romance of the Cape Frontier

  VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.

  THE BITER BITTEN.

  It was early when Claverton awoke on the following morning; but, earlyas it was, the occupant of the other bed had disappeared. He had"shaken down" in Hicks' room, and the two had talked and smokedthemselves to sleep; and, early as it was, there were plenty of soundsoutside, which told of the day's doings having begun.

  The most epicurean of late sleepers will find it hard to keep up hisusual luxurious habit in a frontier house. There is a something whichseems to preclude late lying--possibly the consciousness of exceptionallaziness, or a sneaking qualm over taking it easy in bed when every soulon the place has long been astir; but even the most inveterate sluggardwill hardly find it in his conscience to roll over again, especially ifa companion's long since vacated conch is staring him reproachfully inthe face from the other side of the room.

  Claverton, who was in no sense an epicurean, felt something of this, andlost no time in turning out. The sun had risen, but was unable topierce the heavy mist which hang over the earth in opaque folds. Hefound his host busy at the sheep kraals, the thorn-fence dividing whichhad been broken through in the night, with the result of mixing theflocks. Three Kafirs were hard at work sorting them out again, and thedust flew in clouds as the flock rushed hither and thither within theconfined space--the ground rumbling under their hoofs.

  "Pleasure of farming!" remarked the old man, with a smile, aftergreetings had been exchanged. Both turned away their faces a minute asa pungent and blinding cloud swept past them. "The rascals might haveavoided all this by simply putting a thorn tack or two in its place lastnight. You can't trust them, you see--have to look to everythingyourself."

  "Suppose so," replied Claverton, slipping out of his jacket. "I'm goingto give your fellows a hand. The brand, though, is rather indistinct.Which come out?"

  "All branded B, with the double ear mark."

  "Right?" And he dived into the thick of the fun, with all the energyand more than the dexterity of the Kafirs, who paused for a moment witha stare of astonishment and a smothered "Whouw!" They did not know whothe strange _Baas_ was, but he was evidently no greenhorn.

  Another hour's hard work and the flocks are separate again; but it israther too early to turn them out to grass. So the two stroll round tothe cattle kraal, whose denizens stand patiently and ruminatingly aboutfor the most part, though some are restless and on the move, recognisingwith responsive "moo" the voices of their calves in the pen. Nearly allthe cows are of good breed--the serviceable and hardy cattle of thecountry, crossed with imported stock, though now and again among themcan be descried the small head and straight back of an almostthorough-bred Alderney. Milking is going on. There sits the oldcattle-herd beneath a wild young animal properly secured, milking awayand gossiping with his satellites as fast as he fills his pail--forKafirs are awful gossips. Then he turns the frightened young cow loose,and, removing the foaming pail out of the way of a possible upset,proceeds in search of a fresh victim. He salutes his master in passing,and, with a rapid, keen glance at the stranger, extends his greeting tohim.

  Mr Brathwaite is very proud of his choice and well-bred animals. Heknows every hoof of them like ABC, almost every hair; and as they walkabout among the beasts he entertains his companion with the history ofeach, and where it came from, and the events of its career in life.

  "Hullo! Who's this?" said Claverton suddenly, as two horsemen appearedon the brow of the opposite hill. "One's Hicks, the other looks like,uncommonly like, Jim."

  "Yes, it is Jim," assented Mr Brathwaite. "What's brought him overthis morning, I wonder?" The said Jim was his eldest son. He was amarried man, and lived on a farm of his own some fifteen or sixteenmiles off. A few minutes more, and the two horsemen drew rein in frontof the cattle kraal.

  "Hullo, Arthur!" sang out Jim, jumping to the ground. "Here we areagain! Hicks told me I should find _you_ here, of all people. Morning,father! Have Ethel and Laura arrived yet?"

  "I believe so. I saw Jeffreys' trap coming over the hill about an hourago, and he was to bring them. I was busy and couldn't go in then. Mybrother's children, Arthur," he explained, noting a surprised look inhis guest's face. "They have come from Cape Town to stay a couple ofmonths while their father is away up the country."

  "Come to enliven us up a bit," said jovial Jim. "Ethel will lead you alife of it, or I'm a Trojan."

  Jim Brathwaite was a fine, handsome fellow of thirty-five, over six feetin height, strong as a bull and active as a leopard. His bronzed andbearded countenance was stamped with that air of dashing intrepiditywith which a genial disposition usually goes hand in hand. He was aquick-tempered man, and his native dependents stood in considerable aweof him, for they knew--some of them to their cost--that he would standno nonsense. Of untiring energy, and with all his father's practicalcommon sense, he had prospered exceedingly in good times, and hadmanaged to hold his own against bad ones. Shrewd and clear-headed, hewas thoroughly well able to look after his own interests; and any onegiven to sharp practice or rascality--whether cattle dealer or Dutchman,Kafir or Hottentot--would have to get up very early indeed to reach theblind side of him.

  Claverton had been on very intimate terms with the Brathwaites someyears previously. They had been good friends to him in the earlier daysof his wandering life, and he had a warm regard for them. It was morethan pleasant, he thought, being among them again, laughing over many areminiscence evoked by the jest-loving Jim as they strolled towards thehouse.

  The long, low dining-room looked invitingly cool after the glare andheat outside. Mrs Brathwaite, who was seated at the table, scoldedthem playfully for keeping breakfast waiting. Beside her sat a girl--abeautiful creature, with large blue eyes fringed with curling lashes,and a sparkling, dimpled rosebud of a face made for capriciousness andkisses. The masses of her golden hair, drawn back from the brows, wereallowed to fall in a rippling shower below her waist, and a fresh, coolmorning-dress set off her neat little figure to perfection.

  "Arthur. This is my niece, Ethel," said Mrs Brathwaite.

  Claverton started ever so slightly and bowed. He was wondering where onearth this vision of loveliness had suddenly dropped from in thisout-of-the-way place. And Mr Brathwaite had said, "My brother's_children_."

  The girl shot one glance at him from under the curling lashes as sheacknowledged the introduction, and a gleam of merriment darted acrossthe bright face. Each had been trying to read off the other, and eachhad detected the other in the act. She turned away to greet her cousin.

  "Why, what in the world has brought _you_ here?" cried that jovial bladein his hearty voice. "We weren't expecting you for ever so long.Where's Laura?"

  "The Union Company's steamer _Basuto_. Cobb and Co, and Mr Jeffreys'trap. Laura's in the next room. One question at a time, please."

  Jim roared with laughter as he took his seat at the table. Betweenhimself and Ethel much sparring took place whenever the pair gottogether.

  "Sharp as ever, by Jingo," he cried. "I say, Ethel, I wonder youhaven't been quodded for bribery and corruption. They say Uncle Georgeonly gets returned by sending you round to tout for votes."

  The point of this joke lay in the fact that her father was a fervidpolitician and a member of the Legislative Assembly. Before Ethel couldretort, a diversion was created by the entrance of Mr Brathwaite andhis other niece. Laura was her sister's junior by a year, and as unlikeher as it was possible to be. She was a slight, graceful girl, withdark hair and eyes, and as quiet and demure in manner as the other wasmerry and impulsive; and though falling far short of her sister inactual beauty, yet when interested her face would light up in a mannerthat was very attractive. So thought, at any rate, our friend Hicks, onwhom, during her last visit at Seringa Vale, Laura had made animpression. Not to put too fine a point upon it, Hicks was very hardhit indeed.

  "Really, those two are too bad," said Mrs Brathwaite. "Beginning tofight before they have been five minutes t
ogether. Isn't it too bad ofthem, Arthur?"

  He appealed to, looked up just in time to catch Ethel's glance ofdefiance which said as plainly as words: "You mind your own business."She was not going to defer to the opinions of this stranger, and did notsee why he should be called upon to decide in the matter. No doubt hehad come out there with the notion that they were a mere set ofhalf-civilised, ignorant colonials whom it was his business to setright. Those new arrivals from England always gave themselves suchairs, and expected to have everything their own way. That might do withthe old people and good-natured Jim, but it would not go down with her,Ethel Brathwaite, aged nineteen, and she intended to let him know it.She had taken a dislike to this new arrival, which he saw at once, andthe idea rather entertained him.

  "Uncle, I declare Jim gets worse and worse as he grows older. Yes--older, Jim, for you're quite grey since I saw you last, you know. Howare you, Mr Hicks?" she continued, as that tardy youth entered theroom. "Have you shot your twenty backs yet? You know we said last yearwe should vote you out of our good opinion unless you could show astwenty pairs of horns fairly killed by your own gun when next we met?"

  "Well, not yet," was the answer, somewhat reluctantly given.

  "As you are strong, be merciful," put in Claverton, thereby drawing downupon himself another indignant glance.

  Our friend Hicks, like many a greater man, had his weaknesses. One ofthese was a passion for sport. He would lay himself out to the mostarduous labours in the heat of the day, and forego many an hour ofwell-earned rest at night, in the pursuit of his favourite pastime. Notthat his efforts were always crowned with the success they deserved--indeed, it was the exception rather than the rule if they were so--butthe mere pleasure of having his gun in his hand, expecting,Micawber-like, something to turn up, satisfied him. When he first cameto Seringa Vale he had been in the habit of starting off in quest ofgame at times when by no possibility could he have obtained a shot, andunder such circumstances had been known to empty his gun at such smallfry as spreuws or meercats rather than not discharge it at all. Butwhatever he let off his gun at, it didn't make the least difference tothe object under fire. He never hit anything, and much good-humouredchaff was habitually indulged in at his expense. "He couldn't hit ahouse, couldn't Hicks," Mr Brathwaite was wont to observe jocosely,"unless he were put inside and all the doors and shutters barred up."Which witticism Jim would supplement by two or three of his own. Butthe subject of this rallying was the very essence of good humour. Hedidn't mind any amount of chaff, and devoted himself to the pursuit of_ferae naturae_ with a perseverance which was literally as laid down bythe copy-books--its own reward.

  "I move that we all go down and look at the ostriches," suggested Ethel,ever anxious to be on the move.

  "Who seconds that?" said Jim, looking around. "Now, then, Arthur!"

  "As junior member my innate modesty forbids," was the reply.

  "That is meant satirically, Mr Claverton," cried Ethel. "You deserveto be voted out of the expedition, and if you don't apologise you shallbe."

  "Then I withdraw the innate modesty. What--that not enough? Thenthere's nothing for it but a pistol or a pipe. Of the two evils heregoes for the pipe. Hicks, we haven't blown our cloud this morning." Hesaw how the land lay.

  "Er--well, you see--er--that is--er--I mean," stammered Hicks, who,good-natured fellow, shrank from refusing outright. "Er--the fact is,I've got to go down and feed the ostriches some time, so I may as wellgo now."

  "Well, I am surprised at _you_, Mr Hicks," said Ethel. "So thepleasure of our company counts as nothing. You deserve to be put on thestool of repentance too."

  "But really that's just what I meant--er--that is, I mean--it does, youknow--but--" stuttered the unlucky youth, putting his foot in it deeperand deeper.

  Laura had fled into another room under the pretext of finding her hat,whence a stifled sob of suppressed laughter was audible now and again.The originator of this turn of affairs was imperturbably sticking apenknife through and through a piece of card, and contemplating theactors in it as if he were unconscious of anything humorous in thesituation, though in reality he was repressing, with an effort, anoverpowering desire to go outside and roar for five minutes.

  "Good-bye, Mr Claverton," said Ethel, with a mock bow, and emphasisingthe first word. She was rather disappointed at his ready acquiescencein her ostracism of him, as it upset a little scheme of vengeance shehad been forming.

  "Say rather `Au reservoir,' for your way, I believe, lies past the dam."

  "Oh-h!" burst from the whole party at the villainy of the pun, as theyleft him.

  "I'm afraid your friend is a dreadful firebrand; Ethel and he will fightawfully," said Laura to Hicks as they walked down to the largeenclosure. These two had fallen behind, and Hicks was in the seventhheaven of delight. The mischief of it was that the arrangement would beof such short duration. Some twenty yards in front Ethel was keepingher aunt and Jim in fits of laughter.

  "Let me carry that for you," said Hicks, pouncing upon a tiny apologyfor a basket which was in her hand.

  "No, no; you've got quite enough to carry," she replied, referring to alarge colander containing the daily ration of maize for the ostriches,and which formed his burden on the occasion.

  "Not a bit of it. Look, I can carry it easily. Do let me," he went onin his eagerness.

  "Take care, or you'll drop the other," said she.

  The warning was just one shade too late. Down came the colander, itscontents promptly burying themselves in the long grass. The salvagewhich Hicks managed to effect was but a very small fraction of theoriginal portion.

  "There now, I've spilt all the mealies," said he, ruefully, eyeing thescattered grain. He was not thinking of its intrinsic value, but thatthe necessity of going back for more would do him out of the two orthree hundred yards left to him of his walk with Laura.

  "Your friend would say `it's of no use crying over spilt mealies.'Never mind, we can go back and get some more."

  "What!" he exclaimed, delightfully. "Do you mean to say you'll go allthe way back with me? But really I can't let you take all thattrouble," he added, with reluctant compunction.

  "I mean to say I'll go _all_ the way back with you, and I intend `totake _all_ that trouble' with or with out permission," she replied,looking up at him with a saucy gleam in her eyes.

  Close to the storeroom they came upon Claverton. He was sitting on thedisselboom of a tent-waggon smoking a pipe, and meditatively shyingpebbles at an itinerant scarabaeus, which was wandering aimlessly abouton a sun-baked open patch of ground about seven yards off.

  "Well, has your sister thought better of it, and removed the ban?" askedhe, as the two came up.

  "No, she hasn't," answered Laura, "but I see you're penitent, so I willdo so on her behalf. You may come down with us," she added, demurely.She knew he would do nothing of the sort, so could safely indulge thetemptation to mischief.

  Poor Hicks was on thorns. "Yes, come along, Claverton," he chimed in,mechanically, in the plenitude of his self-abnegation fondly imaginingthat his doleful tones were the acme of cordiality.

  "Well, I think I will," pretended Claverton, making a feint at moving.Hicks' countenance fell, and Laura turned away convulsed. "Don't know,though; think I'll join you later. I must go in and get a fresh fill;my pipe's gone out," and he sauntered away to Hicks' great relief, as heand Laura started off to rejoin the others at the ostrich camp.

  The male bird was very savage, and no sooner did he descry the party,than he came bearing down upon them from the far end of the enclosure.

  "What a grand fellow!" exclaimed Ethel, putting out her hand to strokethe long serpentine neck of the huge biped, who, so far fromappreciating the caress, resented it by pressing the stone wall with hishard breast-bone as though he would overthrow it, and making thesplinters fly with a vicious kick or two, in his futile longing to getat and smash the whole party. And standing there in all the bravery ofhis jet-black arr
ay, the snowy plumes of his wings dazzling white in thesun as he waved them in wrathful challenge, he certainly merited to thefull the encomium passed upon him. Hicks emptied the contents of thecolander, which brought the hen bird running down to take her share--amild-eyed, grey, unobtrusive-looking creature. She stood timidlypecking on the outside of the "spread," every now and again running offsome twenty yards as her tyrannical lord made at her, with a sonoroushiss, aiming a savage kick at her with his pointed toe.

  "Oh, you odious wretch," cried Ethel, apostrophising the bird. "MrHicks, can't we give the poor hen some all to herself?"

  "Behold the way of the world," said a voice behind her. "Every man forhimself and--but I won't finish the saw."

  She turned, and there was Claverton. A cherrywood pipe was in hismouth, and with one hand thrust carelessly into the pocket of a looseshooting-coat, he stood regarding her from beneath his broad-brimmedhat, looking the very personification of coolness and unconcern.

  The sight of him angered her, but a thrill of malicious satisfactionshot through her, as she thought of the rude shock she would inflictupon that provoking imperturbability before he was an hour older.

  "So you come down from the stool of repentance without permission," shesaid, severely.

  "Couldn't stop away any longer," he replied, without removing hiscareless glance from her face. "Besides, your sister absolved me inyour name."

  "Then you may stay," she said, graciously, turning to look at theostriches. The male bird was about fifty yards off, reluctant to leavethe spot, and rolling his fiery eye towards them with a frequency thatshowed he had not quite given up all hopes of making mincemeat of someone of the party that day.

  "Mr Claverton," suddenly exclaimed Ethel, even more graciously. "Doget me those red flowers over there, the ones on the long stalks."

  "With pleasure," he answered, coming to her side. "Indicate them."

  "There they are, those under that bush."

  She pointed out ten or a dozen wiry-looking stalks with a few redblossoms that would not have overburdened one of them, but wereinjudiciously distributed amongst the group, which sprouted amid theundergrowth in a small clump of thorn-bushes right in the enclosure. Toreach it about seventy yards of open ground, destitute of all cover savefor a single mimosa bush growing half-way, must needs be traversed.

  "Hold on, let's get the bird away first," said Jim, moving off with thatintent.

  "Never mind the bird, Jim, he won't interfere with me," quietly answeredClaverton; and without even pocketing his pipe he climbed deliberatelyover the wall.

  "Don't go, Arthur. Good gracious, he'll be killed!" cried MrsBrathwaite, in dire trepidation. "Ethel, how could you?"

  "No he won't, auntie; you'll see him run in a minute as for dear life.I wanted to make him run," she added in a low tone, with a mischievous,scornful laugh.

  I know of no more perfect exemplification of the old adage aboutfamiliarity breeding contempt than the case of the fall-grown maleostrich. In his wild state the most timid and wary of creatures, he isup and away the moment you appear on the skyline, and fleetness andendurance must be the character of your mount if you hope to overtakehim. In a state of domesticity, however, his aggressiveness andpugnacity know no bounds. He will charge anything or everything,resistance only adding to his blind ferocity--and when it is understoodthat a single stroke of his sharp horny toe--for he kicks down, notout--will shatter a man's skull, not to mention the possibility of abroken limb, it will not be difficult for the reader to realise thatthis gigantic fowl is a particularly awkward customer to deal with. Ofcourse the bird is easily killed, or disabled, a very moderate blow froma stick being sufficient to break its leg. But it must be rememberedthat the creature is, so to say, worth its weight in gold, and any onewould think more than, twice before slaying so valuable a possession,even in self-defence. So it is manifest that the expedition upon whichClaverton had now embarked was by no means free from the element ofperil.

  Once over the wall he walked coolly forward, seeming altogether toignore his foe's existence. The ostrich, however, was by no meansdisposed to take matters so quietly, for before he had gone fifteenpaces it bore down upon him with a savage hiss; but a couple of lightbounds brought him to the small bash above mentioned, where he was safefor the moment. For the moment, because it was only a question which ofthe two would tire first, and they dodged each other round theprecarious shelter which was only half-way to his destination.

  Soon, however, besieger and besieged alike came to a completestandstill, and the situation began to wax rather monotonous. Then theostrich, withdrawing a couple of yards, dropped down on its shanks, andcontorting its neck, and at the same time fluttering its wings indefiance, produced a curious drumming noise, of which grotesquechallenge its human antagonist took not the slightest notice, but waitedon as calmly as ever. Suddenly it sprang up, and uttering itstrumpet-like hiss, dashed right through the bush at him; then, while itwas still blundering among the thorns, Claverton started off upon theremainder of his journey. This he could have accomplished with ease andsafety, but that above all he intended to do it quietly. He knew whyEthel had sent him in there as well as she did herself, and that astuteyoung lady should not have the pleasure of seeing him routed, orenjoying a laugh at his expense. Consequently he had not covered morethan half the distance that remained to him, at a quick but easy walk,when the ostrich, now simply infuriate by reason of a few pricks fromthe sharp mimosa thorns, which had penetrated even its tough hide, wasupon him. And very huge and formidable looked the ferocious bird, as,rearing itself up to its full height, its jetty plumage erect andbristling, its eye glaring, and its fiery red bill wide open, it rushedupon Claverton, hissing like a fiend. No cover was at hand; there hestood in the open, completely at the mercy of his savage assailant.

  In vain Jim and Hicks ran into the enclosure shouting, to draw off thecreature's attention; it manifested a fell fixity of purpose, from whichit was not to be turned aside by any such puerile tricks. MrsBrathwaite grew pale, and averted her head; even Ethel now saw that shehad carried her practical joke rather too far; but still her gaze wasriveted upon the combatants with a strange, eager fascination.

  But Claverton's coolness always stood him in good stead. He suddenlyadvanced a couple of paces, thus forestalling the attack, and seizinghis powerful antagonist by the lower part of the neck, swung himselfnimbly aside, just managing to avoid a kick that would probably haveripped him up, and held on firmly to the creature's throat, half chokingit. It plunged and stamped, its great feet going all the time likesledge-hammers, and to hold on was just as much as he could do, for itwas as powerful as a horse. But hold on he did as for dear life; then,watching his opportunity, he flung himself off, and before the bird,half-dazed, had recovered from the effects of the choking it hadreceived, he stood safe within the friendly shelter of the clump ofbush, somewhat used up, but uninjured, except that his right hand wastorn and bleeding from contact with the bird's claw. His pursuer,indisposed to venture again among thorns, walked quickly up and downbefore the entrance to the cover, flicking its wings about in baffledwrath at the unaccountable escape of its victim.

  The first thing he did was to gather every one of the flowers he hadcome for. Then the spectators could see him standing against a treedoing something with a pencil and the back of an envelope.

  "Hallo! what on earth are you up to now?" called out Jim. "Tell us whenyou're ready, and we'll get the bird away."

  "By no means," was the reply. "I'm making a rough sketch of thesituation, now that I'm master of the same. Then you may call it adrawing by one of the Masters."

  This sally provoked a laugh from all but Ethel. She was silent. Totell the truth, she was rather ashamed of herself.

  In a few moments he put away his pencil and paper, and set to work tocut a couple of large thorn branches. This done, he issued forth fromhis refuge to return. The ostrich, apparently tired of the turn affairshad taken, had drawn off a littl
e way; but no sooner was he in the openthan it charged him again. This time, however, it was out of itsreckoning; the _chevaux de frise_ of thorns that Claverton held beforehim was not to be got over. With a powerful kick or two it beat downthe branch, which, however, was immediately replaced by the other, andkick and hiss as it would, it could not get rid of the formidable arrayof prickly thorns which met its breast and unprotected neck whenever itpressed on to the attack. At last, convinced of the futility of theundertaking, the savage bird turned round and trotted away about fiftyyards, and there stood, looking the picture of sullen defeat. Its coolopponent walked leisurely to the wall, and, abandoning his valuablemeans of defence, climbed over and joined the party.

  "By Jove, but you did that well," said Jim. "Why, man, I expected tosee you most awfully mauled."

  "I don't know. `Needs must where the'--but I won't finish thatquotation, either. Here are the flowers, Miss Brathwaite," he said,handing her the innocent cause of all the pother. "By the way, Hicks, Iforgot to tell you as I came down that there's been a porcupine in themealie-land during the night. We might set the spring-gun for him, eh?"

  "Rather! We'll set it this evening," said Hicks, gleefully, hisinstincts of destructiveness coming again to the fore.

  That evening, between nine and ten o'clock, they were all sittingindoors. Jim had left in the afternoon to return to the bosom of hisfamily, after making them all promise to ride over in a day or two.Suddenly a dull, heavy report was heard.

  "_Pace_ the porcupine," remarked Claverton.

  "I say," sputtered Hicks in his eagerness, "let's go down and see ifwe've got him. We might set the gun again, you know, in case anothercame."

  "Let's all go," cried Ethel. "I'm dying to see the result of ourtrap-setting. Yes, _our_ trap-setting, Mr Hicks--you know you'd haveput that trigger too stiff if it hadn't been for me."

  "But, my dear child," feebly protested Mrs Brathwaite, "the grass is aswet as it can be, and--"

  "And--there's a path all the way down, and--it's a lovely night--and--you're a dear old auntie--and--we're going," she replied, with a hug anda kiss; then darting into the other room reappeared, lookinginexpressibly killing, with a light-blue shawl thrown carelessly overher golden head.

  "Well, then, don't be too long, and don't get into any mischief.Arthur, I shall look upon you as the responsible person. Keep them inorder," said the old lady, with her kindly smile.

  "All right, Mrs Brathwaite, I'll keep them well in hand, I promiseyou."

  "And--Arthur--just shy that old porcupine up in the air once or twicefor Hicks to practise at," sang out Mr Brathwaite jocosely as they leftthe room.

  It was a perfect night, the moon was at half, and the whole earth sleptin silence beneath its mantle of silver sheen, for a heavy dew hadfallen. A grass fire or two shone forth redly upon the slopes of thefar Amatola. Not a breath stirred the air, save for the faintestsuspicion of a cool zephyr which now and again partly dispelled thelight clouds of blue smoke which ascended from Claverton's pipe. Hicksand Laura were on in front. Suddenly Ethel stopped.

  "Mr Claverton," she said. "Do you know I've been feeling quite ashamedof myself all day?"

  "What about?" asked her companion.

  "Why, for sending you after those wretched flowers this morning--Ididn't mean you to get hurt, you know; of course I thought you wouldeasily be able to run away."

  "I see. But running away isn't altogether in my line--I don't meanunder any circumstances--those who declaim most against the lawfulnessof leg-bail at a push are generally the ones most prone to putting it tothe test. In fact, I don't mind telling you that I have `run away'before now, having no alternative."

  "When I saw that dreadful creature coming at you, I declare I would havegiven anything not to have sent you in there. It was horrible." Andshe shivered. "Do forgive me."

  "But I assure you the whole affair was fun to me. Keeps one in trainingfor emergencies. Only--"

  "Only what?"

  "Only that I don't know whether your uncle quite likes his prize ostrichbeing made the subject of a bull-fight."

  "And--we are friends?"

  "I hope so."

  He looked with a trifle of wonder into the lovely eyes, now so soft inthe moonlight. What an impulsive little thing it was, he thought. Thenshe said: "Do give me that drawing you made while the ostrich waswaiting for you. It's sure to be fun."

  "With pleasure. Here it is," pulling the old envelope out of hispocket. "It about represents the position, though I'm no artist."

  It did. When Ethel examined it in her room half an hour later she founda very comical sketch reproducing the situation with graphic andwhimsical distinctness. It was labelled "Cornered--or Brute Force_versus_ Intellect."

  They found the other two standing over the mortal remains of a large oldporcupine. The spring-gun had been set with the precision of clockwork,and no sooner had the luckless rodent entered the mealie-land than heran his nose against the string and promptly received the contents ofthe infernal machine clean through his marauding carcase. There helay--a spoiler who would spoil no more. Said Hicks:

  "I'll come down in the morning and get some of his best quills."