Long before the tired hunter woke, a party headed by the missionary had brought in the carcass of the lion, as well as those of the springbok and panther, and strange to say, the baboon had followed them, refusing to be driven away. It was in vain to pelt it with sticks and stones, for dashing away into the bush it would climb a tree, making the most hideous grimaces, chattering and crying, but the moment all was quiet, back it would come again. Worn out with fatigue and watching, the soldier had slept late, and the sun was high in the heavens when he awoke. Looking about him, roused by the noise, he was just in time to save the baboon's life. Luji had been engaged for some time pelting it with sticks and stones, but the agile brute was too much for him. Masheesh stood in the act of poising his assegai, when Hughes stopped him. "The monkey saved my life, Wyzinski," said he; "and besides, it would be hard to kill the creature which evidently trusts in us." "Trusts in you, it would appear," replied the other; for at this moment, as if recognising Hughes, it came towards him, showing the wounds on its back, and holding out its bloody hands. "Fetch me the arnica and some water, Luji; we will soon put those scratches to rights, though they are caused by the lion's claws." "The lion's claws!" asked the missionary; "why, what had the monkey and lion in common?" "I'll tell you when I have had a good wash, and some breakfast," replied the other. The baboon was soon caught, and his back freely bathed with the arnica water, when the intense smarting, and the grotesque grimaces and loud chattering consequent on it, caused shouts of laughter. A good wash in the river, a hearty meal of eland meat, with a dessert of the mobala fruit, strongly resembling in flavour the English strawberry, and then the hunter told his tale. The news as to the wounded elephant soon spread through the little camp, and every one, from the missionary downwards, was eager to follow up the spoor.