"Ah, indeed, Mr Groblaar," said Ned, rising to his feet slowly. "Is there any particular portion of this place that you as a free burgher might prohibit tonight?" "Yes; I defy you to pass me now." They were all standing now with the exception of the cousin Groblaar, who lay on his back snoring. "Wait a moment, Ned," said Clarence, softly. "I think Stephanus only meant to stop me from walking past him." "No," growled the Boer; "I did not mean you. I don't want to interfere with you, nor with Fred either, for you are both colonial born and bred. It is this cur of a John Bull that I'd teach to keep his place." "Good," answered Ned. "Then this cur of a John Bull accepts your gentlemanly challenge, and will show you that he knows his place, and that place is, whatever spot of the earth he finds it expedient for the advance of civilisation to tread upon." He walked steadily up to the Boer with his arms held limply down; then, before the other could put up his fists, Ned suddenly gripped him and sent him sprawling some feet away, while he stood where Stephanus had been. "This is Imperial ground, you Dutch Boer, upon which the Lion of Britain permits your people to play for the present." It was a grand speech, which Ned felt proud to give voice to, and which his chums cheered. Another clear voice behind them cried, "Bravo, young cub!" but none looked round to hear who spoke. Stephanus did not give them time for that. With a hoarse roar he picked himself up, and made the rush like a wounded buffalo. He was a powerful young man come to his full strength, whereas Ned Romer was only ripening. But he was heavily built, and slow in his movements in spite of his rage. He had not had the training nor discipline which Ned could boast of; and lastly, he had been drinking "Cape smoke" that day, which rendered him stupid and careless. Possibly also the overweening conceit and insolence of his race made him contemptuous of this slender lad. Ned, on the other hand, was in splendid condition, as lithe and agile as a young panther, and as quick in the glance as he was active and cool. The past three months of horse exercise and open-air life had made his muscles like steel. As Stephanus rushed upon him with swollen features and blood-charged eyes, Ned waited quietly; then, with a sudden spring aside, he shot out one fist, and landed the Dutchman a thumper on the bridge of his nose, which caused him to see a perfect flare of fireworks, while it made him stagger in his tracks. For an instant he paused, and put up both hands to his bruised organ; then as he turned once more and removed his hands, a dark stream burst from his nostrils, and deluged his chin and shirt-front. "First blood, and well drawn," cried the clear voice again. "Go it, my hearty; you have shown him the red, let him have the blue next stroke."