THE LEGEND OF JAN PRINSLOO'S KLOOF. 375 



of anger, cruelty, and lust for blood, as to strike a 

 chilling terror to the hearts of the three spectators. 

 Brave man and ready, though he was, Goodrick 

 felt instinctively that he was in the presence of the 

 dead, and his rifle hung listlessly in his hand. 



• Closer the fearful things approached the spell- 

 bound trio, till, when within thirty yards, the leading 

 figure stumbled and fell. In an instant, with 

 diabolical screams, the ghostly Hottentots fell upon 

 their quarry, plying assegai and knife. Again the 

 awful scream that the kloof knew so well rang out 

 upon the night ; then followed a torrent of Dutch 

 oaths and imprecations ; and then the dying figure, 

 casting off for a moment its slayers, stood up and 

 laid about it with the heavy " roer " grasped at the 

 end of the barrel. 



The three living beings who looked upon that 

 face will never to their dying days forget it. If the 

 expression of every crime and evil passion could be 

 depicted upon the face of the dead, they shone clear 

 under the pale moonlight upon the face of the dying 

 Dutchman — dying again though dead. Once again 

 with wild yells, the Hottentots closed on their 

 victim, and once more rang the fiendish dying yell. 

 Then, still more awful, the Hottentots, as it seemed 

 in an instant, stripped the half dead body, hacked 

 off the head and limbs, and tore open the vitals, with 

 which they bedabbled and smeared themselves as 

 they again tore shrieking round the kraal. Flesh 

 and blood could stand the sight no longer ; Mrs. 

 Goodrick, who had clung to her husband spell-bound 

 during the scene, which had taken in its enactment 

 but a few seconds, fainted away. Goodrick turned 

 to take his wife in his arms, with the intention of 



