sharp curved knife flashed across the throat, a stream of blood followed, a few convulsive efforts, and all was still. This was a noble buck, measuring nine feet from the horns to the base of the tail, while the length of the horns was fully three, the deer standing nine feet high measured at the shoulder. Sending the eland meat to camp, the hunters took their way to the river bank, searching for the spoor of the lion. Right opposite the spot where the remains of the deer lay, the river running between, a deep hole was dug, so deep that only the head and neck of a man standing in it would appear above the level ground. Between it and the remains of the deer, the stream formed a kind of pool. To the right ran the chain of mountains, while in front the plain was clear, the water a little lower down, pouring over a ledge of rock, so as to form a miniature cataract. Heavy timber grew right down to the river's edge, the branches of some of the trees dipping into the water. The hole was dug at the foot of a tree, and all round it grew long, rank grass, and tangled brushwood, save where it was cleared away in front. About nine o'clock that night, Captain Hughes, accompanied by Luji, who carried a spare rifle, took his way down to the river. "I climb in tree?" asked Luji. "Master hid away in hole?" His English was plain enough, but not very grammatical. "No, thank you, Luji," replied the soldier, laughing; "remember the lioness of Zoutpansburgh." "Three lions there," replied the other; "and Luji not know missionary in tree." "Well, well, just you bundle off to camp, Luji, and go to sleep. If I am not back directly after daybreak, send to look for me." "Luji come himself," said the man, with the air of a hero. "Good-night, master." "Good-night, Luji." The cracking of the brush was heard, then a monotonous chaunt, as the careless fellow took his way back to camp. Both sounds died away in the distance, and the hunter felt himself alone, dependent only on himself, in the middle of the African plain. The moon was in her second quarter, but would not rise before eleven o'clock, and the darkness grew dense. The silence of the day was gradually broken into, the jackals and hyenas began their nightly music, and the watcher, though he could see nothing, became aware that animals of some kind were splashing and drinking in the water close to him. He strained his eyes, but could not make out anything. Soon the jackals scented the carrion, their peculiar wailing cry coming nearer and nearer. Time wore on, the position in the cramped-up hole, without the possibility of seeing anything, was an irksome one, and the hunter, after the fatigues of the day, felt sleep creeping over him.