redoubled my haste, when suddenly a voice near the eyes began first to
mutter, and then to send up a succession of awful yells. Hastily I lit
another match, and perceived that the eyes belonged to an old woman,
wrapped up in a greasy leather garment. Taking her by the arm, I dragged
her out, for she could not, or would not, come by herself, and the
stench was overpowering me. Such a sight as she was--a bag of bones,
covered over with black, shrivelled parchment. The only white thing
about her was her wool, and she seemed to be pretty well dead except for
her eyes and her voice. She thought that I was a devil come to take her,
and that is why she yelled so. Well, I got her down to the waggon,
and gave her a 'tot' of Cape smoke, and then, as soon as it was ready,
poured about a pint of beef-tea down her throat, made from the flesh
of a blue vilder-beeste I had killed the day before, and after that she
brightened up wonderfully. She could talk Zulu,--indeed, it turned out
that she had run away from Zululand in T'Chaka's time,--and she told
me that all the people whom I had seen had died of fever. When they had
died the other inhabitants of the kraal had taken the cattle and
gone away, leaving the poor old woman, who was helpless from age and
infirmity, to perish of starvation or disease, as the case might be. She
had been sitting there for three days among the bodies when I found her.
I took her on to the next kraal, and gave the headman a blanket to look
after her, promising him another if I found her well when I came back. I
remember that he was much astonished at my parting with two blankets for
the sake of such a worthless old creature. 'Why did I not leave her in
the bush?' he asked. Those people carry the doctrine of the survival of
the fittest to its extreme, you see.

"It was the night after I had got rid of the old woman that I made my
first acquaintance with my friend yonder," and he nodded toward the
skull that seemed to be grinning down at us in the shadow of the wide