were in a cage, making a kind of whimpering noise as they went, and
staring round them uneasily. Moreover, these were not alone, for gathered
there were various other animals, driven down by the flood from the
islands above them, reed and water bucks, and a great eland. Among these
the lions walked without making the slightest effort to attack them, nor
did the antelopes, which stood sniffing and staring at the torrent, take
any notice of the lions, or attempt to escape.

"You are right," said Richard, "they are all frightened, and will not harm
us, unless the water rises more, and they rush into the cave. Come, make
up the fire."

They did so, and sat down on its further side, watching till, as nothing
happened, their dread of the lions passed away, and they began to talk
again, telling to each other the stories of their lives.

Richard Darrien, it seemed, had been in Africa about five years, his
father having emigrated there on the death of his mother, as he had
nothing but the half-pay of a retired naval captain, and he hoped to
better his fortunes in a new land. He had been granted a farm in the
Graaf-Reinet district, but like many other of the early settlers, met with
misfortunes. Now, to make money, he had taken to elephant-hunting, and
with his partners was just returning from a very successful expedition in
the coast lands of Natal, at that time an almost unexplored territory. His
father had allowed Richard to accompany the party, but when they got back,
added the boy with sorrow, he was to be sent for two or three years to the
college at Capetown, since until then his father had not been able to
afford him the luxury of an education. Afterwards he wished him to adopt a
profession, but on this point he--Richard--had made up his mind, although
at present he said little about that. He would be a hunter, and nothing