outlying trees and between two of the wagons. One of these I noticed,
as we do notice things at such times, was the same in which Marais had
trekked with his daughter, his favourite wagon that once I had helped to
fit with a new dissel-boom.

Before me were the rough houses built of the branches of trees, daubed
over with mud, or rather the backs of them, for they faced west. I
stood still for a moment, and as I stood thought that I heard a faint
sound as of someone reciting slowly. I crept along the end of the
outermost house and, rubbing the cold sweat from my eyes, peeped round
the corner, for it occurred to me that savages might be in possession.
Then I saw what caused the sound. A tattered, blackened, bearded man
stood at the head of a long and shallow hole saying a prayer.

It was Henri Marais, although at the time I did not recognise him, so
changed was he. A number of little mounds to the right and left of him
told me, however, that the hole was a grave. As I watched two more men
appeared, dragging between them the body of a woman, which evidently
they had not strength to carry, as its legs trailed upon the ground.
From the shape of the corpse it seemed to be that of a tall young woman,
but the features I could not see, because it was being dragged face
downwards. Also the long hair hanging from the head hid them. It was
dark hair, like Marie's. They reached the grave, and tumbled their sad
burden into it; but I--I could not stir!

At length my limbs obeyed my will. I went forward to the men and said
in a hollow voice in Dutch:

"Whom do you bury?"