Hughes told his tale, and the full danger of Noti's situation was realised. Night, too, was now falling. The three set to work to collect brushwood, and the shot gun soon procured them some ducks for supper. A roaring fire was lighted, and enough wood got together to keep it up. All night long the lions were heard roaring, the cry of the jackals and hyenas showed that they too were very numerous, and several large snakes, one of them more than eight feet long, came within the light of the fire. The bush swarmed with monkeys, and when the moon rose, silvering the river with her light two lions were seen to cross the open. Still there were no tidings of the missing Noti. The three men watched by turns all night in the canoe, one of them landing from time to time to keep up the fire. Wyzinski's Australian bush cry rang out at times on the still air of the African night. It was since the affair of the lioness of Zoutpansburgh perfectly well-known to all in camp, but no responsive shout came back, though the night was so still that the watchers often thought they could distinguish the roar of the far distant surf. Morning dawned on the anxious men, the birds woke up and began skimming about, the ducks sailed out from among the reeds and water-lilies, and still no signs of Noti. "I fear we have lost one of our number," observed the missionary, as he let fly into a flock of duck, knocking over four. "Let us ask Masheesh to pluck and cook those, and you and I go in search of poor Noti." "Agreed," replied the soldier, who was standing in the water of a small pool, having a good wash. A loud cry from Masheesh, who had just secured the fourth duck, was heard, when a figure was seen staggering out of the wood, into the open. It was Noti, who came on, his gun raised above his head, reeling like a drunken man, and before he had traversed half the space, falling heavily on his face to the ground. Rising, the black stumbled forward a few paces and again fell heavily. Lifting him gently, the three carried the poor fellow to the canoe, placed him in it, washed the clotted gore from his face, breast, and left side, covering him with branches. Attracted by the blood, the flow of which it was impossible to stop, the flies came round in myriads, and it was deemed best to paddle down the river, Masheesh tending the dying man, for such he evidently was. An hour afterwards, Noti was no more; but just before he breathed his last, consciousness returned, and he was able to tell his tale. He had lost his way following the caracal, had wandered about he knew not where. Had heard the shots fired at the lions, and one of the animals passing not far from him, he had climbed into a tree, knowing he would not be deserted. All night long they had roamed about him, one apparently wounded lying down under the tree where he lay concealed. Towards morning it got up and walked into the bush.