"I can't say, love, but I have. I remember that cliff and the waterfall;
yes, and those three trees, and the buck standing under them."

"One often feels like that, about having seen places, I mean, mother, but
of course it is all nonsense, because it is impossible, unless one dreams
of them first."

"Yes, love, unless one dreams. Well, I think that I must have dreamt. What
was the dream now? Rachel weeping--Rachel weeping--my love, I think that
we are going to live here, and I think--I think----"

"All right," broke in her daughter quickly, with a shade of anxiety in her
voice as though she did not wish to learn what her mother thought. "I
don't mind, I am sure. I don't want to go to Zululand, and see this horrid
Dingaan, who is always killing people, and I am quite sure that father
would never convert him, the wicked monster. It is like the Garden of
Eden, isn't it, with the sea thrown in. There are all the animals, and
that green tree with the fruit on it might be the Tree of Life, and--oh,
my goodness, there is Adam!"

Mrs. Dove followed the line of her daughter's outstretched hand, and
perceived three or four hundred yards away, as in that sparkling
atmosphere it was easy to do, a white man apparently clad in skins. He was
engaged in crawling up a little rise of ground with the obvious intention
of shooting at some blesbuck which stood in a hollow beyond with quaggas
and other animals, while behind him was a mounted Kaffir who held his
master's horse.

"I see," said Mrs. Dove, mildly interested. "But he looks more like
Robinson Crusoe without his umbrella. Adam did not kill the animals in the