Ormsby, in horror of "creeping things," had latterly taken it into his head to sleep in the wagon, instead of sharing the tent with Frankfort; and still convinced that some one was hanging about the neighbourhood, he determined to keep watch till dawn; but fatigued by his midnight sport, he was soon overcome with drowsiness, and the bright African sun was shining on his face, and May laughing quietly over him, as he woke with a start, and seizing the bushman's hand, examined it intently, to May's great amusement. Frankfort, too, was looking in upon him, and Marmion, with his fore paws on his master's chest, had his great eyes fixed upon him lovingly. "I have had the oddest dream," said Ormsby. "I felt, as I fancied, a hand clutch mine: I grasped it tightly; and when I thought I had got it quite safe, I found the arm was gone, and only the hand, hard and cold, was left in mine." "And here it is, I suppose," said Frankfort, laughing, and taking up the six-barrelled pistol, which Ormsby always placed beside him when lying down at night. May shook his head very solemnly, and then begged the "Masters" to follow him, and he would show them who had lifted the pistol. The bushman led them through a mass of tangled underwood, to a copse all interlaced with wreaths of starry jessamine and wild convolvulus, and softly putting aside a geranium-bush, entered the covert, followed by the others. Bending low, and creeping after him, they found themselves soon in the centre of the thicket, surprised to see scattered about fragments of bread and meat, and some broken bottles; in short, these were the _debris_ of a meal eaten on the spot. Lifting up a bough, May showed them a young Kafir stretched on the grass, and wrapped in profound repose; near him were three assegais. He lay with his head supported by his dusky arm, his dark and finely-moulded limbs offering a study for the sculptor. But the frame looked worn, and his hair, long neglected, was of its natural hue, instead of a dull red, from the clay usually employed in adorning it. Frankfort and Ormsby did not at once recognise the young Kafir servant, Zoonah, whom they had seen at the Dutchman's farm, but May informed them who the sleeper was. Frankfort, surprised at the bushman's want of caution, placed his forefinger on his lips to enjoin silence. May pointed to an empty bottle near the Kafir, and, taking it up, turned it upside down with a knowing wink, as he proved that it was empty. "But," said Ormsby, "when the rascal wakes he will be off; and, as he has been lurking about for no good, we had better secure him; he would soon outrun the dogs. Some fellows would shoot him, and serve him right; he would murder us if he dare."