CHAPTER XXIX. 



A SATANIC YELL. 



In this uncompanionable way we had been sitting 

 for some minutes, simply engaging ourselves in re- 

 plenishing or stirring the fire, when from the copje 

 arose the most weird howl that I had ever listened 

 to. In a few seconds another voice joined the first ; 

 it was equally horrible, but more spiteful and vin- 

 dictive. It is no use hiding the matter; if this 

 unknown yell did not cause me to be frightened, it 

 made me feel very uncomfortable. Even the infant 

 at my feet rose up, his eyeballs starting from his 

 head, and with nervous force and great tenacitv 

 clutched me by the legs. It had scarcely died away, 

 when numerous voices joined in, some deep bass 

 others shrill and satanic, like the utterances of 

 domestic cats when engaged in conflict with their 

 fellows — "only a hundred times more so." I knew 

 what were the originators of these hideous screams, 

 viz., the baboons that had the rocks at the summit 

 of the copje for their residence. 



To be aware of what produces an unusually dis- 

 cordant noise deprives it of all its terrors. So 

 Sunday, cognisant of everything, even the slightest 

 whisper, that transpired in these wilds, sat unmoved 



