finishing their nest, and I watched them idly, for to me they were old
friends, and would wheel about my head, touching my cheek with their
wings. Just then they paused from their task, or perhaps it was at
length completed, and flying to a bough of the peach tree a few yards
away, perched there together amidst the bright bloom, and nestling
against each other, twittered forth their song of joy and love.

It was at this moment that Sihamba walked up to the _stoep_ as though to
speak to me.

"The Swallow and the Swallow's mate," she said, following my eyes to
where the little creatures swung together on the beautiful bough.

"Yes," I answered, for her fancy seemed to me of good omen, "they have
built their nest, and now they are thanking God before they begin to
live together and rear their young in love."

As the words left my lips a quick shadow swept across the path of sunlit
ground before the house, two strong wings beat, and a brown hawk, small
but very fierce, being of a sort that preys upon small birds, swooped
downwards upon the swallows. One of them saw it, and slid from the
bough, but the other the hawk caught in its talons, and mounted with
it high into the air. In vain did its mate circle round it swiftly,
uttering shrill notes of distress; up it went steadily as pitiless as
death.

"Oh! my swallow," I cried aloud in grief, "the accursed hawk has carried
away my swallow."

"Nay, look," said Sihamba, pointing upwards.