How would they meet? She supposed he would ride over directly he received her note. Would he look surprised and pleased? Would that grave, firm face relax as he greeted her, the straight glance of the grey eyes soften ever so little as it met hers? Thus she pondered. Yet she was not in the least in love with John Ames. For long she sat, pondering thus. Then, upon the distant stillness, rolled forth a shot, followed by another. It broke the current of her thoughts. "Jimmie is getting some sport," she said to herself, standing up to look in the direction of the double report. "But he must be finding it very near home. That shot sounded almost as if it were at the house." She glanced at the sun. Its distance above the horizon reminded her that she must be getting back herself. Rising, she descended the granite kopje, and took her way along the bush-path she had come by. This was a matter of no difficulty, even if she were now following it for the first time, for those among whom she had lately moved had taught her something of the mysteries of "spoor." How peaceful it looked in the golden light of the afternoon stillness! The homestead, truly, was of the roughest description, with its thatched roof and "dagga" walls, yet it, and the pointed conical huts behind it, were all in keeping. A settler's dwelling in a new land! A halo of romance overspread it in Nidia's mind as she emerged from the bush-path into the clearing. Stay. What was that? Blood! She had just time to switch her skirt aside. Blood? Yes; a great patch of it--then another and another, and a long trail in the dust as though something heavy had been dragged along the ground. Ah, Jimmie had been in luck again and had brought down another buck. That was the meaning of the double shot she had heard. The animal had been too heavy for the little chap to carry. He had been obliged to drag it, hence the trail along the ground. And in her rejoicing over the small boy's venatorial triumph, Nidia forgot her natural disgust at sight of the blood-gouts which lay thick and hideously red along the trail. How still it all was! Had their mother taken those earthquakes of children for a walk? she wondered. Even then it was strange to be out of earshot of their voices, if only in the distance. Well, the youthful hunter should be in, anyhow. "Jimmie!" she called. "Jim-mie!" No answer. The front door was closed. She noticed that the trail went round as though to the back of the house, yet in front of the closed door the blood-patches lay thicker than ever. Jimmy would catch it when his mother came back, she thought to herself, for bringing his quarry in at the front door and making that horrid mess. Lifting her skirt to avoid the latter, and making a little grimace of disgust, she turned the handle.