CHAPTER IV 



A WALK IN THE DARKNESS DREAMS OF A MORNING THE 

 SCHERM THE SLAYING OF THE OSTRICH. 



PARCHED, sore, gritty and with over- 

 strung nerves I sought my bed early, 

 hoping that sleep would come soon and 

 obliterate the effects of that day of turmoil. 



1 meant to shoot an ostrich on the morrow. To 

 make this practicable I should have to rise at 



2 A.M., for it was essential that I should reach 

 a locality at least six miles away before day- 

 break. 



But the fiery breath, the tawny, tossing 

 mane of Typhon seemed still to envelop me; 

 his moaning hiss yet filled my ears. I felt as 

 if I had stood face to face with one of the 

 Lords of Hell. The reek of Tophet was still 

 in my nostrils. Midnight had passed before 

 sleep came. 



When Hendrick wakened me I felt as 

 though I had hardly lost consciousness. It was 

 the specified hour. Hendrick could no more 

 read the face of a clock than he could decipher 



