"I'm afraid so," rejoined Tom. "I only hope that Wilson hasn't written to the _pater_, and reported me `killed in action;' it might be the death of my poor mother to hear such news, in her delicate state of health. When do you think we shall reach Cradock?" "That, of course, depends a great deal upon circumstances," Frank answered; "but, barring accidents, I think we may fairly reckon on being there by this day week at the latest. You see, Tom, now we're able to travel during the day, we shall get over the ground much more rapidly." "How far is Cradock from Ralfontein?" queried his friend. "As the crow flies, something over a hundred miles; but the track, though a good one, is rather--halloa! what's that noise?" Frank's attention was attracted by a rumbling sound, which might be likened to that made by a heavy _slow_ train passing over a bridge just within earshot; a sound which grew louder every second, and was presently mingled with horrible shouts and yells that echoed and re-echoed through the valley. "I know what _that_ noise is!" exclaimed Tom, seizing the gun and springing to his feet. "Caffres! we're lost," ejaculated Frank Jamieson, his face paling; "we're lost, Tom!" But Frank quickly recovered himself, and casting a glance around in the hope of discovering some hiding-place, his eyes rested upon a hollow--or small cave--in the cliff almost immediately over their heads, and about eight or nine feet above the path. "There's our chance! let us take refuge in that hole," said he, catching Tom by the arm. "I'll help you up first and hand you the gun and assegais; then you can haul me after you. Up you go, there's not a moment to lose!" So saying, Frank placed his body against the face of the cliff or rock, which was all but perpendicular, and Tom, without any hesitation, sprang upon his shoulders and clambered into the cave. The gun and assegais were next handed up, then Tom, lying down flat on his stomach, reached over the edge of the cave as far as he dare, and seizing his friend's outstretched hands, hauled him up. The cave was just deep and wide enough for them to turn round, and just high enough to allow of their squatting on their haunches like a couple of Hindoos; the entrance was partially hidden by an overhanging bush. Hardly had our friends concealed themselves, when--as though they had dropped from the clouds--a score of sinewy black forms appeared in the valley, and took up a position on either side of the track, directly beneath the cave; they were armed with assegais only, and did not present a very warlike appearance; in fact it was evident that they were of quite a different race to Sandilli's dusky warriors. "I don't believe these fellows will molest us," Frank Jamieson said with a sigh of relief. "They probably belong to one of the pastoral tribes inhabiting the country in the vicinity of Campbeldorp, and are now on a hunting expedition. Ha! I thought so."