of my precious cartridges, and stood like a statue 

 listening for the reply. The silence seemed worse 

 than before : the birds had gone to roost ; even the 

 flies had disappeared ; there was no sound at all but 

 the beat of my own heart and Jock's panting breath. 



There were three cartridges and a few damp matches 

 left. There was no sun to dry them now, but I laid 

 them out carefully on the smooth warm rock, and 

 hoped that one at least would serve to light our camp 

 fire. There was no time to waste : while the light 

 lasted I had to drag up wood for the fire and pick a 

 place for the camp somewhere where the rocks 

 behind and the fire in front would shelter us from the 

 lions and hyenas, and where I could watch and listen 

 for signals in the night. 



There was plenty of wood near by, and thinking 

 anxiously of the damp matches I looked about for 

 dry tindery grass so that any spark would give a start 

 for the fire. As I stooped to look for the grass I 

 came on a patch of bare ground between the scattered 

 tufts, and in the middle of it there lay a half-burnt 

 match ; and such a flood of relief and hope surged up 

 that my heart beat up in my throat. Where there 

 were matches there had been men ! We were not in 

 the wilds, then, where white men seldom went not 

 off the beaten track : perhaps not far from the road 

 itself. 



You must experience it to know what it meant at 

 that moment. It drew me on to look for more ! 

 A yard away I found the burnt end of a cigarette ; 

 and before there was time to realise why that should 



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