But at night they are a most timorous and superstitious set of shrinkers. Every strange sound makes their flesh creep and their hair bristle. The kloofs, and veldt, and karri are packed with evil spirits, whose weird revels they no more dare disturb, than would a jackal a lion while he is feeding. Their God is the Lord of vengeance, their religion a hotchpotch of rank superstition. Our heroes did not fear greatly that the cell would be disturbed while they were out of it. The prisoners were deputed to do the cleaning once a week, and Saturday was the day ordained for this duty. On Sundays they were allowed to rest, as according to the Transvaal laws, no trekking, or work of any kind, was permitted on that day. It was Thursday now, therefore they were almost positive that after they were driven out, the door would be locked until their return at sunset. How wearily the hours dragged on during that day which they fondly trusted was to be their last in this slavery! It was dry weather, fortunately being the middle of the winter season, as Nylstroom in the summer was one of the most malarial districts. Yet the sun blazed fiercely down upon the exposed and shelterless place where they worked, and tried them all severely. The mounted warders even became slothful with their whips as the morning advanced, and found smoking more to their minds than browbeating their charges. Ned and his two chums toiled on even harder than they had ever done before. They were thrilling with suppressed excitement, and felt glad of the work that made the hours pass. They scarcely lifted their heads or rested until the call came for the midday meal. Mealie-porridge for breakfast, dinner, and supper becomes monotonous; yet they were thankful enough even for this fare when it was served out to them. A mad longing for beef had been on them for some days past. The thought of it blended with their desire for liberty, so that they could think of little else. "Oh for a grilled steak!" groaned Clarence and Fred, as they bolted their unsavoury mixture. "We'll have it, if all goes well, for breakfast," whispered Ned, to keep up their courage. It was a lovely dream, and they hugged it, and kept their tongues moist all the afternoon with the sweet anticipation. It was astonishing to watch their companions the Kaffirs during that day of suspense. They wore their customary sullen and apathetic expressions, as if hope had no abiding-place in their bosoms. Not even by so much as a flash in their lurid eyes could any one have guessed that they were thinking of liberty. The only sign our heroes could note was their extra patience and endurance. When the cowhide ripped across their bare shoulders, they did not even give a quiver. It might have been a fly landing on the back of an elephant, for all they seemed to feel.