It was an old man of about fifty years of age and a young man of about twenty years. There was a family resemblance, which hardly left a doubt of their being father and son. ‘How can this have happened?’ remarked an old man, closely examining the corpses. ‘It can hardly be murder, as I find no wound in them; it might rather be poison, for see how discoloured their faces look. What could they have been eating to poison themselves?’ ‘They have been eating kambaroo, father,’ said a young man. ‘See, there is half a bulb lying next to them.’ ‘That is not kambaroo,’ returned the old man, examining the bulb. ‘This is a poisonous bulb. Nobody who knows kambaroo would eat this bulb for it. The poor fellows must have heard of it, or known it very slightly, to make such a sad mistake. I wonder who they are!’ ‘I know them, father.’ said the young man. ‘I found the nine sheep we lost last week at their tent. The sheep had got mixed with theirs in the veld. They are strangers from the high veld, and nobody knows them here. Their tent is about an hour’s ride on horseback from here.’ ‘Poor fellows, I am very sorry for them and their families. Koos, you and Jan go and span in the cart and take them to their tent; and let the _veld cornet_ know. If you can do anything for the poor families, do so, and if necessary, you can stay there till to-morrow and assist to get ready for the funeral. We shall all come over to-morrow to see what can be done to help the widow and orphans.’ This was done, and the party returned to the tents saddened at the sight; and the old patriarchs took the opportunity to point out to the younger men how transient and uncertain life is, and that it behoved them to be prepared at all times to meet their God. Supper was partaken of silently and soberly. At the usual evening service, which few of our genuine old Boers ever omit, an earnest prayer was offered up for those who had that day been made fatherless and husbandless. After supper, when sitting round the fire, smoking, and drinking coffee, the spirits of the party seemed to rise sufficiently for Steve to remind Oom Frans of his interrupted story of the night before. ‘I do not mind telling you the story, Stephaans,’ replied the old man, ‘but remember we must have no unseemly hilarity after having met death face to face only a few hours ago.