We had been asleep some hours, for the sun had set, and a large, glorious-faced moon was shining down full upon this uncultivated but splendid land, when I was startled broad-awake by a hand being placed on my shoulder. At the same moment Mr Ferguson's voice whispered in my ear-- "Richard--Richard Galbraith, get up; I believe our retreat is discovered, and the Kaffirs are upon us." CHAPTER FOUR. A VISIT FROM A NATIVE--THE MERCY OF PROVIDENCE. The moon shone in over the tops of the bushes outside the cave, with a broad flood of splendid silver light, throwing fantastic shadows inside upon the minister and me, the heap of ashes left from the fire, and on Jack Thompson, still sleeping in the further corner. The beams falling at a direct angle, the foot of the bushes, by contrast, was left in intense darkness, and in this direction it was that, as the minister aroused me, I caught the sound of a stealthy movement. With suspended breath I half raised myself on my elbow. The minister knelt by my side, his left hand clutching my arm, his face turned to the entrance of the cave, with a finger raised to his lip, commanding silence. We felt at that moment that our lives trembled in the balance, and, scarcely permitting a nerve to stir, we watched. The stealthy rustling among the bushes, continued, evidently coming nearer. Once I motioned towards Jack Thompson with a look that I thought he ought to be awakened, but bending to my ear Mr Ferguson whispered,-- "I fear to do so. Our presence may yet be unknown to our enemies, and Thompson makes such a noise, sleeping or waking, that for his safety, as well as ours, he had better remain quiet while he is so." "If not conscious of our presence," I returned in the same low tone, "why are they here? Is it for fishing?" The missionary shook his head, as he replied, "Scarcely. Why they are here I cannot tell, but certainly not for fishing, for the Kaffirs never eat fish; it being such an aversion to them, that they cannot even fancy other people doing so." A few minutes passed in silence, while still the cautious sound approached nearer--yes, up to the very mouth of the cavern in which we were--when with a great gawp, as I peered into the bushes, I ejaculated, "Heaven have mercy upon us!" "What is it, Galbraith?" asked Mr Ferguson eagerly, bending to my level. "See," I whispered, "See; the lion." And there it stood, its two red eyes of flame glaring in upon us, or rather into the cave. I felt the tremor in my own frame spread to my companion, and I made an effort to rise so as to be on my guard, but Mr Ferguson prevented me, whispering,-- "Make no noise, Galbraith, he may pass on."