"Yes; that is the result," replied Ned. "Go on and--succeed." "That is the consummation devoutly to be wished. Now, don't waste any more bullets on signs in the shape of lions--until our watch below is over, at any rate. Be sure, Sir Oracle. We are off again to the arms of Morpheus." CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. THE BASHIKONAY. It was not by any means a dull camp since the diaries and note-books were destroyed. Before this fatal accident matters had been slightly monotonous for Cocoeni and the other young sporting Basuto and Matabele braves. Since that irreparable loss, however--to use Cocoeni's slangy English--"things were humming, instead of being humdrum." They were merry boys, all of them, and could not have been more wisely assorted for such an uncertain enterprise. Regardless of danger and privation, and well-nigh impervious to fatigue, they took their troubles laughing. They made sport of their work, and, unless silence was necessary, turned their daily march into a Christy Minstrel serenade. Repartee, song, and jest were the orders of the hours, and never had Ned seen a moody brow about him since Cocoeni brought the sorrowful tidings back from the rapids about the saurian and the valise. Splendid-looking fellows the natives were, also; the flower and chivalry of their tribes. Deep brown eyes that could melt with emotion, flash with courage, and sparkle with fun; lips full, and ever on the ripple with appreciation of a joke; teeth even and white as the purest ivory could be; limbs muscular, shapely, and supple, with epidermis smooth, sleek, and sheeny as satin. Whether they were lying, standing, wrestling, or running, they were bronze models of grace and symmetry to draw the eye artistic upon them with admiration and delight. Ned put them through their facings morning and evening for half an hour each time, before they commenced and after they had ended their day's march. They took to this military exercise most congenially, and as they were quick to learn, very soon became splendidly drilled soldiers. He and his chums had cause to be proud of these glorious young warriors, as with lightning speed they obeyed orders, forming squares, scattering out into skirmishing order, marching steady as Romans, and pitching themselves flat on the ground to the word of command. With what they had learnt of British war tactics, added to their own native training, Ned had charge of as fine a body of men as captain or centurion could have desired. Our heroes had not been so long from school to forget or forego the delights of outdoor games and athletic exercises, and these they taught their followers, much to their delight.