104 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



fathers with a heavy heart and sad for the loss of his 

 master.' 



" Then extending his open hand high above his head, 

 Boowin stood hke a magnificent ebon statue and chanted 

 a strange, weird dirge over the poor heap of stones. 

 Then, with the stately stride of his race, he passed down 

 the narrow trackway, and Jack lost sight of him for ever. 



" The interior of the hut appeared just the same as it 

 did when Mortimore paid his first visit there ; the same 

 skins were on the floor and walls, and the muzzle-loading 

 gun stood in its wonted corner. Deeming it possible 

 that the dead man had left some token or written message 

 behind him, Jack searched every likely and unlikely 

 corner. For some httle time the hunt proved fruitless, 

 and he was in the act of leaving the sad, sohtary chamber, 

 when his attention was attracted by two white objects 

 lying half hidden amongst the folds of the lion pelt. 

 They were the portraits of a woman and of a golden- 

 haired child exquisitely painted on ivory. The woman 

 was dark and very beautiful, but of a type witch-like and 

 evil, a type that contrasted strangely with the angelic 

 loveliness of the child. Jack made a further search of 

 the hut, but the outlaw had left not a scrap of writing 

 behind him. He died — as did many a better man before 

 him — unknown, uncared, unprayed. Still not quite 

 uncared or unprayed, for Boowin the Zulu loved and 

 honoured his master, and though the dirge that flowed 

 from the unsanctified hps of the half-naked savage as 

 he bade farewell to the mortal remains of ' the good and 

 great white Induna ' may not perhaps appear in the book 

 of the Recording Angel, who will believe that it was but 

 a mere fleeting echo amongst the kopjes ? 



