success lay in a sudden unexpected blow at the main body, when his numerical inferiority would be compensated by the paralyzing effect of surprise. How this blow was to be delivered he had at present no notion; it must be left to the guidance of circumstances; but certainly its prospects would be hopelessly jeopardized if the raiders’ vigilance was aroused. Patience must be his watchword. He lay and watched the Swahilis for half-an-hour by his watch. Then, evidently tired of their fruitless errand, they started to rejoin the main body. They came down the slope, passing within a few yards of where John and the Wanderobbo were concealed; but fortunately they did not retrace their steps along the path by which they had come, but struck off towards the direct course of the main column, which they would probably intersect, as John guessed, at the distance of about a quarter of a mile. If they had returned by the same way the marks of John’s boots might possibly have escaped them unless they were accustomed to tracking; but if they had caught sight of them he felt that he would have been in a dangerous predicament. At that moment John wished that he could march barefoot like the natives, but he knew that it was a vain wish. John told Bill to creep through the scrub and follow the men up for a little way, until he was sure that they had finally left the spot. For himself, he had suddenly resolved to climb the tree as the Swahili had done, and discover what outlook could be had from it. He found that the place had been admirably chosen. From a branch thirty feet above the ground the country was visible for miles around. On the west rose the giant mist-clad form of Mount Kenya; eastward the plain extended as far as the eye could reach. South and north he could scan the country through which the raiders had passed, and westward, from the appearance of the vegetation, he inferred that a considerable stream flowed. As he watched, he saw the four Swahilis emerge from the scrub, strike the track, and hasten towards the north. There was no doubt that they had dismissed the idea of being pursued. When Bill came back, the two set off to rejoin the safari, which they found halted by a shallow stream about two miles away. John told Ferrier what he had discovered. "I don’t think they can be more than five or six miles ahead of us," he said. "We can easily come up with them by the time they camp, or soon after, and I think we ought to strike to-night." "Have you any idea how?" "None whatever. All will depend on the lie of the land and the kind of camp they make. I’ll send Bill on ahead to make sure they don’t alter their direction, and then we’ll follow up and get to them by nightfall." "It’s to be hoped they won’t get warning. I’ve seen two or three small parties of natives to-day, and they must have seen us. I suppose they won’t give any information."