"I see the stones, Frank, plain enough," said Mr Lavie, "but a man couldn't be hidden among them. You call it a heap of stones, but there is no heap. There is not so much as one lying upon another." "Nevertheless the cry comes from there," said Warley; "I heard it the last time quite plainly. Let us go up and see." They cautiously approached the spot in question, where there were about thirty or forty moderate-sized stones scattered on the plain. As they advanced the mysterious call was again heard. "I see who it is that's making it," shouted Wilmore. "It's a fellow whose head is just above ground. I took his head for a black stone, with a lot of moss growing on it. But now I can see that it is a head, though the features are turned away from us." They hurried up, and found that Frank was right. The stones were lying round what seemed to have been a dry well. In this a man had been buried up to his neck, the chin being just above the level of the ground. It did not appear that he was conscious of their approach; for at the interval of every two or three minutes he continued to give vent to the shrill monotonous cry, which had attracted their attention. "What in the world can this mean!" exclaimed Nick. "The fellow can't have tumbled into the well, and the stones have fallen in after him, I suppose?" "Is it some penance, do you think, that he is undergoing?" suggested Warley. "Or a punishment for a crime he has committed?" said Wilmore. "It may be a punishment for some offence," said Mr Lavie, "though I never heard of the Hottentots punishing their people in that way, and the man is plainly a Hottentot. As for anything else, of course it is quite impossible that he can have got jammed up in this way by accident; and the Hottentots know nothing of penances. Such a thing has never been heard of among them. But the first thing is to get the poor fellow out and give him something to restore him; for he is half dead with thirst and exposure to the sun, and does not seem conscious of what is passing." They fell to with a will, and had soon so far released the captive, that he was able to draw his breath freely and swallow a little brandy, which Mr Lavie poured on his tongue. He then opened his eyes for a moment, gazing with the utmost bewilderment and wonder on the dress and appearance of the figures round him; and then closed them again with a low groan. "They meant this--the beggars that holed him in after this fashion," observed Frank. "The stones are fitted round him as carefully as though they had been building a wall. And, look! the poor wretch's arms are fastened by a thong to his sides. What brutes! Hand us the knife, Nick, and I'll cut them. How tough they are!"