But the baby--ah, that was what lay so heavy on their consciences! "I don't mind the old man one bit," murmured Ned, as he tossed about. "He was too much like President Kruger for me to let him live, when I saw my chance to wipe him off. He may have had some virtues--as Kruger may have. They both appear to be fond of their own, and willing to fight for them; but that wretched pup--I wish I could forget it." Events shortly banished this painful episode from the minds of these brave adventurers, and the jackals would soon remove the traces from the earth. Like the leaves of the forest, the lives of men and animals are trifles of no more consideration than the shadow that crosses a sundial and marks the hour. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. THE THUNDERSTORM. Ned sternly put his veto on any more monkey-hunting, big or small, as a cruel and useless expenditure of ammunition. They were harmless if left alone, as they were not carnivorous, and totally unfitted for food, unless for starving men, which this party was not by any means. Therefore, while passing through this baboon land, the company, after this one experience, avoided these open avenues as much as possible. When, however, they were forced to use any of the paths, they made plenty of noise, which warned these creatures of their coming, and frightened them away. It was small honour to the hunter, who possessed a sure eye, steady nerve, and a good rifle to destroy one of these missing links of man, who so bravely and foolishly stood still and made targets of themselves before they made the attack. There were leopards and other beasts of prey to be encountered, whom to bring down caused no after reflections. These were treacherous and murderous, and, as they lived by violence, so they deserved their doom. On the next forenoon after this adventure, they emerged from the forest--at least, they reached an altitude where the trees were wider apart and not so densely interlaced. Then they had glimpses of the blue sky and golden patches of sunlight across their path. This, with the fresher air, braced them all up wonderfully. They were still ascending, and were now fully four thousand feet above the sea, so that the tsetse flies were left behind them. About midday they arrived at the base of some lofty cliffs, which reared above the tree-tops some fifty or sixty feet. The torrent was still on their left, and had come to be looked upon as an old friend. It flowed through a chasm or split in these cliffs, and fell into another abyss far below their feet. They could see it dropping like a dark blue band between the branches, while their faces were bathed with the cool vapour which rose up from the pool into which it leapt. A couple of rainbows arched this blue ribbon as the sun-rays glistened prismatically amongst the vapour.