"Dyke, old chap, I shall never forgive myself," said Emson, grasping his brother's hand. "I'd do anything to recall my words." "Oh, it's all right," cried the boy, clinging to the hand that pressed his; "I'm better now. I was so exhausted, Joe, that I suppose I couldn't keep awake. I say, how was it I didn't fall off?" "The cob was standing quite still when I came up, and looked half asleep himself." "Poor old Breezy! He had such a fright too. I thought I should never catch up to him. But I did." "Can you forgive me, old fellow?" "Can I what? Oh, I say, Joe! Don't say any more, please. Here, give me some cartridges to put in my pocket. I'm all right now, and there are sure to be some more lions there. But, I say, I don't think I should like to shoot at that first one." Emson handed a dozen cartridges, and then shouted to Jack to stop, which the Kaffir and his two dumb companions willingly did. "What are you going to do, Joe?" "Discretion is the better part of valour," said Emson quietly. "It would be dark by the time we got there, and on your own showing, the field is in possession of the enemy. Why, Dyke, old fellow, it would be about as mad a thing as we could do to drive a couple of bullocks up to where perhaps half-a-dozen lions are feasting. I ought to have known better, but it did not occur to me. These brutes must have been following the herds. There's only one thing to do." "What's that? Go near and fire to scare them away?" "To come back again, after they had left us the mangled remains of the eland. No good, Dyke: we shall be safer in our own beds. It's only another failure, old chap. Never mind: we may get game to-morrow." Dyke tried to oppose this plan of giving up, but it was only in a half-hearted way, and they rode back slowly towards Kopfontein, pausing from time to time for the oxen to catch up, Jack growing more and more uneasy as the night came on, and running after them and leaving the oxen, if they came to be any distance ahead. The result was that he was sent on first with the slow-paced bullocks, and Dyke and his brother formed themselves into a rearguard, necessitated from time to time to come to a full stop, so as to keep in the rear. It was nearly morning when they reached home, and after fastening their cattle safely behind fence and rail, they sought their own beds, where Dyke sank at once into a heavy sleep, waking up when the sun was quite high, with some of the previous evening's confusion left; but the whole of the day's adventure came back in a flash as his eyes lit upon Duke, fast asleep upon a skin, and with the lost cartridge pouch between his paws. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.