"My father came from Scotland, and though I have never been in it, I love the country for his sake," I answered. "Though I hope we shall have no fighting, I am ready to take my part if we have to defend ourselves." "No doubt you would, Mr Crawford," he said. "We are men of peace, and should never wish to fight, unless in cases of urgent necessity. I hope, now you are come, we shall begin our journey southward forthwith." "I am afraid not, Mr Fraser," said Stanley. "My brother, who has just arrived, will scarcely yet be able to move, and we have a young friend, I find, lying ill at a village some days' journey to the north of us; and until we get him we cannot leave this spot." This information did not seem very palatable to our friend Donald; but after taking a glass of real Glenlivet, a flask of which stood in our midst, his countenance relaxed. "Ay, to be sure. I had once a young brother of my own, a delicate boy. I had few else to love in the world. He is gone; but I know how you feel about this little fellow; we must not risk his life. And the other lad, the son of poor Captain Page--I knew him--made a voyage aboard his ship--and should like to do the boy a good turn for his sake. I don't greatly esteem the gratitude of this world, and yet it's pleasant to have the opportunity of repaying a debt for kindness received." I was glad to hear these remarks, and trusting that Natty would find a friend in Mr Fraser, I lay down to enjoy a sounder rest than I had for very long obtained. Leo was much better in the morning, and David told me that though he was seriously ill, yet he trusted that he would shortly regain sufficient strength to travel. I begged of Stanley that he would allow me to accompany him to convey Natty to the camp. To this he willingly agreed, and it was arranged that Timbo was to take a third horse and act as interpreter, and that we were to travel during the bright moonlight hours of night. I was anxious to set off immediately; but the horses were so tired with their hunting expedition of the previous day, that Stanley considered it was necessary to give them a couple of days' rest before they would be fit to start. "When did you ride last, Mr Crawford?" inquired Donald Fraser of me the following morning. "Because it strikes me that, unless you are a good horseman, you'll be little fit to take the journey the captain proposes, at the rate he goes over the ground." I confessed that some years had passed since I had mounted a horse, though in my father's prosperous days I had owned one, and was then a fair rider. "Well, then, we'll just take a canter across the plain this afternoon. It will not tire the horses, and it will help to get your muscles into play for the exertion you'll have to make by-and-by," he said.