The missionary's pale face and sunken cheek was lighted up with an enthusiastic glow. The scene was a strange one, the dancing firelight, the blue sky overhead, the far-away ghostlike outline of the mountains, the loud laughter of the Kaffirs, as they gorged themselves with eland and koodoo meat, the white tent gleaming under the starlight, and the strange cries of the wandering inhabitants of the African plain. Then, too, the words, "difficulty and danger." Could he refuse to share them with the man who had that day saved his life? He struck his hand into the missionary's opened and muscular palm. "Willingly I will go with you, sharing your danger, your triumph, or your defeat. But what about the pass from Mozelkatse? Did you obtain it?" he asked. "No. As I told you, I was returning from the country of the Matlokotlopo, where I had been for the purpose. I had left my people at Zoutpansburgh to follow me, and came on alone, intending to camp on the banks of this river. In the grey of the morning I was waylaid by the lioness, and rode for my life. In the open I held my own easily, but once entangled in the bush, was forced to leave my horse, and had barely time to climb a tree, losing everything save my rifle. The lioness pulled down my horse in a moment, and her cubs soon joined her. My rifle was a single one, while all my powder and ball were left in my holsters. I tried the cry used in the Australian bush, reserving my fire until the last moment. The rest you know." "But what about Mozelkatse? On your own showing, it is useless to proceed unless you have his protection," asked Hughes. "He is to be back in seven days, having left his kraal, on a grand hunting expedition, at the foot of yonder mountains, and he sent me a messenger saying he would be glad to meet me," replied the missionary. "Then there are seven days for me to get rid of the marks of that confounded lioness. Good-night, Wyzinski; it is getting late, and my day has been rather an exciting one." Volume 1, Chapter IV. MOZELKATSE.