"Right again--as to the first. For the second--wrong. We are." "But--the lions?" "We must chance them." "I told you the great god Chance counted for a lot up-country, eh, Ancram?" cut in Lamont. The other made no reply. What with those beastly Matabele behind, with their beastly assegai blades, keen and bright and hungering for his vitals, and a ramping and a roaring lion--or perhaps several--ready to spring out on him from those black depths, his heart was in his boots. He would have given something now to have taken Lamont's advice and to have cleared right out of this infernal country. Let them but come through this safely, and then how blithely would he bid good-bye to Matabeleland, and all its abominable conditions of life, for ever. They seemed to be following a game path as they threaded the black depths of the forest. Peters led the way, and it was a marvel to Ancram how he kept the track. Peters might be a bit too patronising and familiar under ordinary circumstances, but under such as these Peters had his uses--by Jove, he had! "Look out for snakes, Ancram," said Lamont, who was bringing up the rear. "They often lie out in a path like this at night." Ancram started, instinctively stopping, with the result that the other cannoned into him. His nerves all unstrung he came near emitting a shout. "Good Lord! Oh, it's you, Lamont!" he ejaculated, the perspiration pouring from him. "I say, though, how the deuce am I to look out for snakes, or any damned thing else, when I can't see an inch beyond the end of my nose? Eh?" "Of course. I thought I'd warn you, that's all." It amused Lamont to play upon his fears. This fellow had thrust himself upon him all unbidden, and had requited his hospitality first of all by trying to blackmail him, and then by disseminating slanders about him; slanders relating to his cowardice. And the fellow himself was an arrant coward. Assuredly he deserved punishment, and now he was getting it. The process of administering it was rather a congenial amusement. Suddenly there broke forth upon the night a loud booming roar. The very air seemed to vibrate with it. "Good God! What's that?" gasped Ancram. A smothered chuckle on the part of his companions was the first answer. "The rats are in the trap," said Lamont. "_Were_, rather, because now they're nowhere; no, nor the trap either." "Rats? Trap? I don't quite follow, Lamont," said Ancram helplessly, "Don't you remember wondering what sort of booby trap I was setting? Well I was rehearsing then with a dummy. After you two had cleared, I rigged up the real thing, and it consisted of I shouldn't like to say how many pounds of dynamite. It seems to have answered finely. Only, Ancram, I shan't be able to entertain you again under my more or less inhospitable roof for a good long time to come, because my poor old shack has just been blown off the face of the earth, and with it. Heaven knows how many Matabele."