“Knocked up, eh?” said the Colonial, glancing kindly up at him. “I’ve a few drops in my flask still.” “Oh, no, I can stand it well enough. It’s only a little warm.” He gave a slight cough, and laid his head down sideways on his arm. His eyes watched mechanically the Colonial’s manipulation of the bird. He had left England to escape phthisis; and he had gone to Mashonaland because it was a place where he could earn an open-air living, and save his parents from the burden of his support. “What’s Halket doing over there?” he asked suddenly, raising his head. “Weren’t you here this morning?” asked the Colonial. “Didn’t you know they’d had a devil of a row?” “Who?” asked the Englishman, half raising himself on his elbows. “Halket and the Captain.” The Colonial paused in the plucking. “My God, you never saw anything like it!” The Englishman sat upright now, and looked keenly over the bushes where Halket’s bent head might be seen as he paced to and fro. “What’s he doing out there in this blazing sun?” “He’s on guard,” said the Colonial. “I thought you were here when it happened. It’s the best thing I ever saw or heard of in my whole life!” He rolled half over on his side and laughed at the remembrance. “You see, some of the men went down into the river, to look for fresh pools of water, and they found a nigger, hidden away in a hole in the bank, not five hundred yards from here! They found the bloody rascal by a little path he tramped down to the water, trodden hard, just like a porcupine’s walk. They got him in the hole like an aardvark, with a bush over the mouth, so you couldn’t see it. He’d evidently been there a long time, the floor was full of bones of fish he’d caught in the pool, and there was a bit of root like a stick half gnawed through. He’d been potted, and got two bullet wounds in the thigh; but he could walk already. It’s evident he was just waiting till we were gone, to clear off after his people. He’d got that beastly scurvy look a nigger gets when he hasn’t had anything to eat for a long time. “Well, they hauled him up before the Captain, of course; and he blew and swore, and said the nigger was a spy, and was to be hanged tomorrow; he’d hang him tonight, only the big troop might catch us up this evening, so he’d wait to hear what the Colonel said; but if they didn’t come he’d hang him first thing tomorrow morning, or have him shot, as sure as the sun rose. He made the fellows tie him up to that little tree before his tent, with riems round his legs, and riems round his waist, and a riem round his neck.” “What did the native say?” asked the Englishman.