spirit, and the two horses, one with its ears pricked in curiosity, and
the other already cropping grass.

"My God! What have you done?" exclaimed Ishmael.

"Justice," answered Rachel.

"Then your blood be on your own head. I am not going to stop here to have
my throat cut."

"Don't," answered Rachel. "I have a better guardian than you, and will
look after my own blood."

To this speech the white man seemed to be able to find no answer. Turning
his horse he galloped off swearing, but not towards the camp, whereon the
other horse galloped after him, and presently they all vanished in the
mist, leaving the two women alone.

At this moment from the direction of the waggon they heard the sound of
shouting and of screams, which appeared to come from the valley between
them and it.

"The king's men are killing my people," muttered the girl Noie. "Go, or
they will kill you too."

Rachel thought a moment. Evidently it was impossible to get through to the
camp; indeed, even had they tried to do so on the horses they would have
been cut off. An idea came to her. They stood upon the edge of a steep,
bush-clothed kloof, where in the wet season a stream ran down to the sea.
This stream was now represented by a chain of deep and muddy pools, one of