“Did I? Well, I dreamed of ghosts, or something of the sort,” and she told him of the vision of the trees, though of the rest she could remember little. “That’s a queer story,” he said when she had finished. “I wish you had got to the end of it, I should like to know what happened.” “We shall find out one day,” she answered solemnly. “Do you mean to say that you believe it is true, Rachel?” “Yes, Richard, one day I shall see you tied to that tree.” “Then I hope you will cut me loose, that is all. What a funny girl you are,” he added doubtfully. “I know what it is, you want something to eat. Have the rest of that biltong.” “No,” she answered. “I could not touch it. There is a pool of water out there, go and bathe your arm, and I will bind it up again.” He went, still wondering, and a few minutes later returned, his face and head dripping, and whispered: “Give me the gun. There is a reed buck standing close by. I saw it through the mist; we’ll have a jolly breakfast off him.” She handed him the _roer_, and crept after him out of the cave. About thirty yards away to the right, looming very large through the dense fog, stood the fat reed buck. Richard wriggled towards it, for he wanted to make sure of his shot, while Rachel crouched behind a stone. The buck becoming alarmed, turned its head, and began to sniff at the air, whereon he lifted the gun and just as it was about to spring away, aimed and fired. Down it went dead, whereon, rejoicing in his triumph like any other young hunter who thinks not of the wonderful and happy life that he has destroyed, Richard sprang upon it exultantly, drawing his knife as he came, while Rachel, who always shrank from such sights, retreated to the cave. Half an hour later, however, being healthy and hungry, she had no objection to eating venison toasted upon sticks in the red embers of their fire. Their meal finished at length, they reloaded the gun, and although the mist was still very dense, set out upon a journey of exploration, as by now the sun was shining brightly above the curtain of low-lying vapour. Stumbling on through the rocks, they discovered that the water had fallen almost as quickly as it rose on the previous night. The island was strewn, however, with the trunks of trees and other debris that it had brought down, amongst which lay the carcases of bucks and smaller creatures, and with them a number of drowned snakes. The two lions, however, appeared to have escaped by swimming, at least they saw nothing of them. Walking cautiously, they came to the edge of the donga, and sat down upon a stone, since as yet they could not see how wide and deep the water ran. Whilst they remained thus, suddenly through the mist they heard a voice shouting from the other side of the donga. “Missie,” cried the voice in Dutch, “are you there missie?” “That is Tom, our driver,” she said, “come to look for me. Answer for me, Richard.” So the lad, who had very good lungs, roared in reply: