Arrived at the wagon, the two friends proceeded to bring forth and don their bandoliers, having first satisfied themselves that the belts were filled with the kind of cartridge required for the particular pattern of weapon which they were about to employ; and then, having taken down and loaded the four rifles which they intended to use, they awaited the arrival of the beating party, conscious now, for the first time, of a peculiar and not altogether pleasant feeling compounded of excitement and--was it "funk"? No, certainly not, for neither of them would have backed out of the adventure on any account; yet, if the sensation was not "funk", it bore some sort of family resemblance to it, something perhaps, in the nature of stage fright. The fact is that each realised, at nearly the same moment, that they were about to embark upon a perfectly new experience, an adventure in which they were as yet untried, in which courage and the most perfect _sangfroid_ were of the utmost importance, and they were by no means certain how they would emerge from the ordeal. To put it plainly, they were just a little afraid that at the critical moment they might fail to exhibit that superlative coolness and aplomb, the slightest lack of which would cause each to feel for ever humiliated and disgraced in the eyes of the other. Besides, there were the natives, keen of eye, and quick to observe the smallest sign of anything approaching to perturbation; it would be awful beyond words to fail before them! By a curious coincidence the mind of each had been following precisely the same line of thought, and as they saw Jantje approaching, followed by some forty beaters and every mongrel cur belonging to the village, the same resolution came to each--they simply would not disgrace themselves and their colour by displaying the slightest sign of nervousness or trepidation in the eyes of those savages; so, drawing a deep breath, they pulled themselves together and, resolutely dismissing their apprehensions, prepared to do or die.