“It’s curious you should have the nightmare so up here,” said the Colonial; “one gets so little to eat.” There was a silence: he was picking the little fine feathers from the bird, and the Englishman was watching the ants. “Mind you,” the Colonial said at last, “I don’t say that in this case the Captain was to blame; Halket made an awful ass of himself. He’s never been quite right since that time he got lost and spent the night out on the kopje. When we found him in the morning he was in a kind of dead sleep; we couldn’t wake him; yet it wasn’t cold enough for him to have been frozen. He’s never been the same man since; queer, you know; giving his rations away to the coloured boys, and letting the other fellows have his dot of brandy at night; and keeping himself sort of apart to himself, you know. The other fellows think he’s got a touch of fever on, caught wandering about in the long grass that day. But I don’t think it’s that; I think it’s being alone in the veld that’s got hold of him. Man, have you ever been out like that, alone in the veld, night and day, and not a soul to speak to? I have; and I tell you, if I’d been left there three days longer I’d have gone mad or turned religious. Man, it’s the nights, with the stars up above you, and the dead still all around. And you think, and think, and think! You remember all kinds of things you’ve never thought of for years and years. I used to talk to myself at last, and make believe it was another man. I was out seven days: and he was only out one night. But I think it’s the loneliness that got hold of him. Man, those stars are awful; and that stillness that comes toward morning!” He stood up. “It’s a great pity, because he’s as good a fellow as ever was. But perhaps he’ll come all right.” He walked away towards the pot with the bird in his hand. When he had gone the Englishman turned round on to his back, and lay with his arm across his forehead. High, high up, between the straggling branches of the tree, in the clear, blue African sky above him, he could see the vultures flying southward. ***** That evening the men sat eating their suppers round the fires. The large troop had not come up; and the mules had been brought in; and they were to make a start early the next morning. Halket was released from his duty, and had come up, and lain down a little in the background of the group who gathered round their fire. The Colonial and the Englishman had given orders to all the men of their mess that Halket was to be left in quiet, and no questions were to be asked him; and the men, fearing the Colonial’s size and the Englishman’s nerve, left him in peace. The men laughed and chatted round the fire, while the big Colonial ladled out the mealies and rice into tin plates, and passed them round to the men. Presently he passed one to Halket, who lay half behind him leaning on his elbow. For a while Halket ate nothing, then he took a few mouthfuls; and again lay on his elbow.