BRUTAL CONDUCT. 207 



the white-browed weaver birds (Plocepasser mahali) 

 are so justly celebrated. 



".Two days' stay won't hurt us here," I said to 

 Cigar. 



" No, nor a week," was his reply. 



So I issued the order for forty-eight hours' halt, 

 the tent to be pitched, so as to make it more com- 

 fortable for our travel-stained guests ; and the best 

 fare I possessed to be placed upon the table as soon 

 as possible. 



The dinner was quite a success, and successive 

 drinks of cango made all comfortable. We should 

 now have spent a very jolly evening, but that Pat 

 would keep imbibing more than was good for him, and 

 got quarrelsome in his cups. So I went for a walk. 



During dinner I had learned who my visitors 

 were. The son of the "Gem of the Sea" had 

 visited outlying trading stations and Kaffir kraals, 

 with thimble-rig and the three-card trick as his 

 means of making a living. The other was a Scotch- 

 man. For twenty years he had been gold-mining 

 in California, but had been attracted to the Transvaal 

 from some flaming, lying report of the quantity of 

 the precious metal to be obtained there. 



But, to return to my stroll, when I returned to 

 the vley of water, to my astonishment, numerous 

 lights seemed to be moving on its surface. On closer 

 examination I found that these torches were in the 

 hands of men, and those men my servants. And 



