SHORT STORIES.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 15, 12 October 1907, Page 14

SHORT STORIES.

; The Trader of last Notch. In Manicaland summer wears the livery! of the tropics. At tho foot of : the hills north of Maccqueco every yard ' of earth is vocal with life, arid the bush is brave with: colour ( Where the earth ..-shows il; is red, as though'a wound bled. The mimosas havo ' not yet- come to flower, buti.ramid/'.their''.delicate, green the long thorns;! straight or curved like claws; gleam with the flash/ of ; silver.; "Palms poiso aloftr brilliant and delicate,• and- underfoot;-, flowers' are abroad.' The 1 flame-blossomV blazes ,in The:, i sangdieu. burns,in sudden, -y,vermilion.; Insects-fill the -world' with: the ,'noiso'.of, | their business—spiilers, butterflies,and; 'centipedes,.ants, .beetles,;:(an.d^flies/,and; mysterious. entities that 'crawlf namelessj : underfoot. ■ A ' pea-lien shrieks 'in; the" .-.grass, and a:kite whistles aloft. A remote speck in the sky denotes a,watch- ' ful vulture, 1 , alert .for.';any-.mishap to thfe citizens of: the : woods, _ and a' crash of . twigs may mean anything from a buck to -;a- rhinoceros.' . Thero is . a hectic ~. on the face of nature." . , 1 . The trader of Last Notch went home- . wards,to'his store through such a maze, of -urgenftilife,"and.panted :in ._the-heat. • He had been out* to shoot- guinea-fowl, j 't had shot none and expended, all his - cartridges, and his gun, glinting in the strong-light as he!walked, was,;heayy_to his shoulder and hot to his, hand. His ; mood was; one of patient protest, for tho sun, found him,an easy ,prw and he • had yet somo miles to rgo./ -Where. another man would/have said, 'Damn the ■■' heat,".- and'done with-; it,'.' John. Mills, tho trader, tasted the word,on his hps, I ■- forebore to slip it, arid.counted it to-him- - •: self for. virtue. :He set :a large valuo on restraint,, which, in view,, of his " strength .and' resolute, daring, was _perhaps not wholly false.' He*, was; a; large : - man, more riotaceable for.a- sturdy- solid-, ness of proportion than for height, and his- strong !face was rwon;. to pleasantness ty a brown beard, which .he: wore - *' navy fash." ' His. store, five big/hutSj above the kloof known as Last Notch, was at Iho heart of a large Kaffir population'; '. and the 'natives,;: agriculturists by convention ■ and.', warriors /between i i whiles, 'patronised him: very liberally. ': .The Englishmen and: Portuguese .of. tho, country-, held;him 'in 1 favour, .ana ,he. en-; , joyed .that esteem which ~_a- strong quiet ■- - man," who has - proved .himself to have reserves of violence, .commonly wins from turbulent neighbours. .-.■/■ ■ ' 'Ho was trying for a short cut homo, ' ■ and purposed : to wade; the Eevue River II - . wherever he/should:strike it.,' Over, the i low bush about him ho could see his hills yet a couple;, of hours *.bff,Vand-,he'-sithed for thirst','and. extreme discom--3 fort No- one, he .knew; lived therei i about?—no orie, : at / least,''%hq' was likely ": 'to havp whisky at hand, though, for the "• matter of that, :he would have welcomed • '■' a hut and'-: a draught of kaffir itwala. ■ . 'His surprise was ,the greater;, then, when v /.;thero appeared from the, "growth: beside ■■ ■' his-path as white a man as himself,'a : tall somewhat' raped figure?—but/rags "■ tell no news Vat; all in; Manicaland,—who v wore a large black .moustache and smiled affably on liim.: : .-. •' ;• "5' ".. •" He jaoted that the stranger/was a fine . • figure of'a man;- tall' and 'slim,-with : clear.' ■' dark eyes and tanned face, and he saw, too, ; that ho wore ■ a . heavy/ Webley ;on -his - right hip.' The 1 newcomer continued ' to smile tts. Mills scanned him over, and .'■ Waited for the trader to speak first. "Hullo'!'' said -Mills ."atilehgth.. 'v ;i,V "'Olio!" replied, the ! stranger,'- smiling ■till. He had a capital smile, and Mills was captivated into smiling in sympathy; "Who may you be?" ,he asked • agreeably; "didn t expect to meet no white men about here. Where's your boys. ~ • Tho tall man waved: his hand vaguely

■ in the direction, of the coast, as ; though f v to 'imply that he had carriers somewhere ' in that part of ; thb world. '• , "Yai?, he/said pleasantly. "An' you ■ are Jone I Mills,. eh?" i > ■ . lowering the< butt. of .his. gun ■to the • ground and' resting both hands on tho muzzle. The strangei;.started•• slightly,, hut did not cease to smile. "I you,", pondered Mills 'T catft .fix'you at all." . .. -."Ah, but you will, le' mo see.- Was ... it Beira, .eh?''.; .j; Mills- shook his; head decidedly. 'I - novor was -im Beira," he said ; "Not Beira?" queried tho stranger, . *Oh,'-bnt surelee. •:Np?- .Woll.Mandega's, per'aps?" . : '' . ."Mnndega's? Yes,-I was there for a . hit.;;J^hadiaXblookifof;' claims .;anY ( be; ditch, next to old Jimmy Ryan's.'' ' "Oh, yais," said, tho tall man' eagerly. "I know. 'im. An' there you shoot the /. Inte'ndontc, 1 not? That was ver' fine. j ;..see you; coom .down 'all. quiet;■;an*' shoot • -.'im -in'the 'ead. It was done ver'.nice, eh?"- ;-■■■ .r .' SliJls face darkened. "He :was robbiV me, the swine," ■. he answered. "He'd . beeri.;robbin' .'me for sis,.months.; But ■■.that's nobody's business but:mine, aiid ■' anyhow I didn't, shoot him in the head. , .It was in ,the cbest.i. Ari? .now, who. the Mazes are you?" '' ■ ••■■' ; '•. "Ypu do' know'me?" smiled.the stranger jj"but : r know. you.: . Oh, ver' well. J ' t boo you'ver'. often. Ton boo? My name is • Jacques." ■, . ■ 1 -.-■ i "Jack what?" demanded Mills. . "jjyot Jack—Jacques. Tha' 's ■ all. All tho -people call me. Frenchy, eh? Tou •. don't.remember?" ..-wvv. v : .-'i ■ "No,'' said; Mills j thoughtfully; "but ;..then.,>Fd; seen-fa good.many "chaps, and I'd be like to forget some o' them. Tou : - doin'; anything.' round ihero?" ■ v v ' The man .who called himself- Jacques , bell}', up a finger. "Ah, you ..wan' to know, eh? Well, I don' tell you. I fin' v;rjanytMne,-.l'don't tell all the people: I . .dontt blp.Withe ; gaff, ix l,.sit,still,,eh?.l lie. ", low,';Gh?' -I' keep ! 'im 'all. for' me,' 'eli? iYou see?" , . . "Well, oi course," agreed Mills; ; ''struck , a pocket, I . suppose..iT- shouldn'ti ha\a thought you'd' have found mucV here",? But then, of course, you're .hot. ! going to give :your'-game away.i Where's' >:• your., camp? I could do with a drink." - ."Back, there,", said the Frenchman;" V .pointing.{in the,,direction, whenco Mills . liad i cotne;-; "'Bout'■-fivo-'miles.'V You don" want to come; eh? Too far, eh?" ■ "Yes, I reckon it's too far," replisd - ' Jlills. . "I'm not more than four miles from. my own kia now.' You goin' eh?" "Yais,"-agreed thejFrenchman, "I go' b leetle bit. Not.:too far, eh?" , .

>. : •. They. moved' -. on through" ,'th'e ■> busV' s,Mills: shifted his gun from shoulder to • J'shoulder, and suffered still from heat aid Ysweat. His taller companion went more easily, striding along as Mills thought, glancing, at . him "like: a fox.'' The iwarmth appeared not to.distress 'him in ■ the-least. ... . ; ' "By ,Tove," ;exclaimed '" the '.trader. .. "Youfro the'buildidf/mnn for this blooming countiy.-' Yontravel as if yOu was- . born :to ;it;'Don't ;tho heat trouble you at all?-';-. , •• •. "Oh, "no," answered the Frenchman Carelessly. "You see, I come from a 'ot country. In France H.is ver',often'ot.' ~ But you don't,, like it, eh?" :... ... ~...:. ■ "No/'j.said the tradet'^jtln.emphasis. "I'was after lieahen, or you wouldn't ..see me out this time o : the day. Englisn ' ehaps can't stand it.'' . . ; "Eh?" . "English chaps can't stand it. I said " repeated Mills. "They'mos ly- ho -up till its cooler." \ . ; - "Ah, 'yais." ■..-•■ They were now nearing the river. A ' steam rose over the bushes and; spiralled into the air, and the hum "of'water , going 6lowly was audible. A few' minutes, of walking'.brought- them ~ to f its banks. TheV;'str'eaiEL flowed greasily and 'dark',' ' some forty yards wide, but in the middlo vit'forked about a spit of sand not more ■ than .ten;-:p'aces.,- broad, r . a ;ve"ry - Xetlicf of- a river, running oilily and with n slumberous sound, and its reputation for crocodiles was vile. , . Mills'sat- ; down and began to pull-oft his boots. ■ ■■ji.-: '■> ..- "As well here as anywhere," ho said. ''I'll try it, anyhow." "1 go back, now," said the Frenchman. "Some day I come/up an', see you; eh? • iYou like that?'' f , , ' "Come, along any time," replied Mills 'cheerfully as he slung his boots across his shoulders. "You don't think island's a quicksand,-oh?" 1 The Frenchman turned and stared r.t it. "I do' know," he answered. "Perhaps. Yon goin' to try, eh?" :' "Yes, I'll have a shot at.it. You can mos'ly trust yourself on : 'cm if. j-ju -..'.walk light an' quick. But we'll' see.'" The Frenchman watched him as ho waded out.. The black water roaclwd . no higher than his knees, but the ground ■ w.n soft underfoot, and he floundered .. anxiously. .

"It sycks at you," he called. . "It's all greasy."He moved on, and came to the 6and island.. : /,-•' 1 ■ ■ ' "Ifa better here," he called. "11l be all right , now/' " - . ; The Fronchmlih jumped to. his feet. -"Look out!" he shouted, gesticulating violently. "You go . down,':,walk oil 'im \" ■ Mills glanced down ; and saw; that the creepiiig sand had him knee-deop. He dragged his right foot forth .and plunged forward, ..but with tho ''action his loft leg sank to the Crutfch, and he only.kopt his "balance with a violent offort. The Frenchman danced on the bank. "Throw you' gun dowii,' 'ho shouted. Throw you' boots clown. You'- in to |;the/-waist;.nqw. Push iyo'solf back : t», /the hard.",-. ■/-.. :■ , . lA: i --'Ho/frruhg'his hands together with excitemerit: ' v . ''i: i ; }''Mills : !!threw r 'down his' rifle, and' the .sandis'wallowcd-'it at once.' Ho turned hisihead\t6,'the. man at- the bank. ... ' "It's no,'good,' chum," ho said quietly. '."I,'reckon.'you'better take.a:shot at mo. ;frith;that revolver,. _ ■ -:^The r .:'sand',',was;.'in -his armpits. The 'Frenchman: ': ceased to jump and wring ( his /haiids, VaSd' sifliled at him ' oddly. Mills, in tho'midst' of his trouble, felt an odd. sense of outraged propriety. The' smile, he reflected, was ill-timed— and ho was sinking' deeper. " What .are you grinning at ?" •he gasped. " Shoot, can't you ?" -/ -' "J come pull yon out," said the Frenchman, -fumbling' at. the .buckle,, of/.his belt,,and'he forth with stepped into the water. /' . ~.v.: •: ■•'. / He/waded-swiftly to within five feet of. the sinking man.and.'flung,him the end.of the bolt.' Mills failed to catch it, and the Frenchman .shifted ,his feet cautiously and flung again. : " "Now, -he shouted as the -trader-, gripped ■ it, " ciitch : 'old".tight," and he started.,to drag hini'.bodily' forwards. 1 ' "Careful," criod Mills'; "jou'ro nnlc> 'ing The Frenchman/stepped free hastily, and;sthiincd.,on"the belt again. . Mills endeavoured to kick with his entombed legs, and called a warning as his 1 resouer 'sunk in" the sands.' , -.--.Thu's. ' they wrestled,- and at- length Mills found his, head in the water and his body free. lie roge, and they waded., to .the bank. •: "Of - 'all: the', quicksands -,1 s , ever saw," said the trader,slowly,' as hfe sat. down and gazed at the place that had po'nearly' been his gralye, "that one's' tho worst.' '"Orrid," agreed ■' tlie : ; Frenchman, smiling: amicably. "Yon : was- ver'' near buried,.''eh ?" :■ :./:■: >■ "Yes," said' the trader thoughtfully. "J {suppose any. one ;'ud py. you'' saved my-life. Frenchy?" ' '~/./ : , f 'Yes,"-, replied the other; . ; ■ "Exactly,",-said Mills.. : "Well,'there's my .hand for .you, Franchy.. -.You dfrao me a, good turn. I'll do as much fnr you o'nc .of-these days.", ,;■/ /:,. . • ! "Eh ?" said the Frenchman as; ho. shook hands. ' " ' / t "YoVve got-a :nas,ty;vhabit of saying 'Eh retorted;'the'^tra^er.. ;"I: said I'd' do >as muchJ : ?fof-fypMone. of; these 'days.;.; "■ . .■/•;': / "Oh, yais," smiled? the t .Frenchman. "I think you willi/'KTha's all right." "iW.ell," • !: wish' you'd come up and., see mo at /my kia.' Sure you can't 'come now ? " '-vj;.;' ; ' "..Yai6',, ( l<;'cb'bminqw,"/tanswered ,; the other;/ - ■" ' Mills Bta'red;,/- j" 'Fraid/y6u : :can't .tni6t me to go-/alonb,: ; are he queried. "i " ihteirupted '.the " Right /you: are," ' Mid' 2 Mills heartily. "Come 'along,'T.th'ehf!"v'/fi -■ " ~ They strodo?'ofEZiri'thel : direction:,'of the dnft, Mills going/thoughtfully, with an The! Frenchfcaii fsmiledA'perpetua'.ly;, and once ho laughed'.'out;-' !/;,: \ , ■" WhatV»the'- -joka-? the trader. : ' "• :•, . - " I think I do a good piece of business to-day," replied the Frenchman. : / "Irm; y03," continued Mills suspici-

ously. ■ ' v •. 1 '" ■- It was a longish. nphill walk to the trader's store, and the ; night ■ fell - while they were yet on , the way. Witli the darkness',there:came>a breeze, .cool and" refreshing!' .'the'"sky - :''filled with', sharp, of. light, and the bush woke with; l a&ew life. The, crackle of their boots o^the itiff. graiifeisii.6j|thfcy walked; live things scattering'to'left .and : 'right, arid orico .a night-adder ' hissed ' .malevo-r, lently at the Frenchman's ; lieel.' They; talked little as they went, but Mills; noticed that now 1 andagain • his com| paiiion appeared to check a. laugh. He; experienced a feeling 'of . vague' indigna-' tion-against the man.who had saved his, life; he' was. selfish in not .sharing his: point of-view and the thftughts which", 1 amused. At times reserve xan be the most selfish ;thing ; imaginable, and onfe might a.s well be reticent on ft desert 'ilMd as in Manicaland.' Moreover, despite the 'tolerant, manners" of _ the coununerplained in his companion—something, which engendered a suspicion on gcmeral grounds.' ; •• - ' V The 'circle' of big -dome-shaped huts which constituted, the store of Last Notch came into view against ;the -sky. of dnll;velvet, as they breasted tho last rise. The indescribable' homely ,'smell of a' fire.' greeted;, the nostrils : with, the force of' a spoken wbl'comis:'.. TKey-;c6uld !hear;-the feabble of the Kaffirs -it: their supper and thenoiso of theirshrill empty laughter. . "• '-■. . .'- ':&■ . "Thafs home,": said Mills, breaking' a-long,silence. : - • -j; ..-' • "Yais," murmured the; Frenchman; ".'ome,.eh? :,Yais., .Ver'-'naico;" , -~ " Yoii: may say. what 'you: like," .continued tho trader, aggressively. ";i"Homb is; something. Though never sof.'umble, ye know,'there's no place like home." "ThaV ajl. right,"- assented the other gaily. " I know, a man ■name':;.Albert; Smith, an' 'e sing that in the gaol at Beira. Sing all; the night till;; I stop, 'im. with a broom. Tais.". .., Mills grunted,' and they entered tlie skoff kia—the-largest of, the huts, saered :tp/thoiuses'.ofva?,diningTroomi*:;f:lt(.cbntained'two canvas chairs.'a Cainji table, a ,vaviety of boxes to sit upon, artd some picture-paper- illustrations oh ■ tli'o' mud'] wall. A 'candle in; a' bottle ''illuminated it; and ;a'bird in) tlie thatch overhead ■twittered!; volubly/."at their:, .presence. Spine tattered books lay in the corner..: Thoy washed,in the open air,.sluicing themselves from ..buckets, Sand I'dressed .again hut; -' - ' . 1 .! ,■ •

"Skoff (food) '11 be ready.,' by now," said Mills; "but I think,;a gargle's the first thing; .You'll have whisky, or gin?" The Fronthman ; proftomepd. . for whisky.'and Jftbk it hoat. :'Mills'stared. j ."If: I '.took off;a- dose.•'like f.that," :ho "I' should be hi drink 'as'an owl. You know how to shift it!" "Eh?" • ■' ' -V ■ "Gimme patience," prayed, , the trader. , "Yon bleat like I said you; can take.;, it, the. drink. .'■ Savvy? jWeria-: poosa.meningi.9ternk. Have some more?" 1 ■. "Oh, yais,"- smiled-i tho guest.: "Ver' good,whisky, : (h'" ; '- He. tossed off another fingers, of; itho licluor, and to :th'eir; Jneal; The food,was.such-'.a¥m6§t',tables' in Mahicaland offered. Everything' was tinned; and the -menu, ran the gamut of .edibles .from roastcapon (cold) to.pate, do fpie gras :iri ; a :pot., ' -Ka'dfinished; "Mills'"passed-'ovi&'r. his itobftc'ifi' and <sat v back: "-(Ho' -watched: the- • other l light,; up and blow ..a whito cloud, and then .'spoke/', jr. , \. : - ~. ■ "Look Here,' Frfchchy," he said, looking at-him.steadily; "I don't'quite cotton. to;you,. and_ I think it proper' you should'say a bit pioro, than Vybu, have, said." ' ;■ ■ "Eh?" Queried the other smiling; iMills > .but .'.restrained-., himself. "I want to know who you are,,and I' guess I mean to know too,, so out with

it!"'- V ' ; ; "Ah, yais," replied tho. .Frenchman, and removed his pipe from his mouth. He bbwL fastidiously with ■'his thuffib/.-smiling'-tho whilfe.-' Of. a 'su'dden lie looked ,up, - and the sinile was gone., 'no gave' "Mills back; a look as ■purposeful .as:;his. ow.n. ,'. ."I'm the man that save you-in the river," he said meaningly. "Well," began the trader hotly, but stopped. "That's true," he answered thoughtfully, as though speaking to himself. '"Yes, that's true.' You've got. me, Fronchy." - "Yais," went on tho Frenchman, leaning forward across the table, and speaking witli an emphasis that was like an insult. "You sink there in the sand. I stop and save you. 1 stop, you see, although tho men from Macequece coom after me and want to kill mo. But I don't run away; I don'., say to. you, 'I can' stop.; You :go\down; you .die.' I don' say that/ I stop.' I save you. An' now you 6ay to me, Tronchy, 'oo tho 'ell are you?'' Yais." Mills shrugged proteotingly. The appeal was to the core of his nature; the demand was one he could not dishonour.

"I didn't say just that," ho urged. "But what aro tho chaps from Maccqucce after yo,u ; for?" . "Tha'a all . right," replied the Frenchman ..with a : wave of his hand. "You say, Frenchy, I don' like you. Dam you, Frenchy!' Ver' well. Tho men coom, you givo mo to them. Tliey shoot m 6; Tha's all right; yais." He replaced his pipe and commonccd again to smoko with an expression of weary indifference. "I'm not that sort," said Mills. "I'm open to admit I didn't quits take to you—at first. I can't., say fairer than that. But tell me what you done to rile tho-thaps. Did you .kill a bloke, or what?" "Jone Mills," said tho Frenchman— ".Tone Mills <slioot the Intendcnto at Mandega's. Kill• 'im dead. Dead., as pork. They don' chase Jone -Mills. They don' ■ wan' to shoot Jone Mills. No. Frenchy—po' ol' Frenchy —'o shoot a man ,in Maccqueco. Shoot 'im dead. Dead ■' as pork. Then ■ they all coom after 'im. 1 Wan' to shoot t'im. An' po' ol'. Frenchy; 'e stop to pull Jone Mills but of th& river; 'B save Jone Mills. Jone squeak an' say, 'Shoot me quick befo' I choke.' But Fronchy stop an' pull 'im out. - Yai. An' then they shoot Frenchy. Yais!" Ho blew a huge; volumo of 6inoke and lay back "Lftolc .'ore, Frenchy,"-cried Mills, 'stretching his hand 4 across the table. "I'm in this. They won't catch you hero,-old son. Savvy? There smy hand for you." VEh,P" " - . „ ... ... , "There's my' hand, I m tolling you. Shake hands ,old rson.- You may be, a hard case, but you did save my life, and it's up to me to see you through. Wo 11 be able to call quits then. Tho Frenchman rose with a serious face, and the two shook hands over tho candle. " The Frenchman held' Mills's hand a moment longer. .. 1 "I know, you,",-he said. "You' do kno' me. I trust you, Jone. I know yo' a good man.". He sat back again, and Mills tamed matters o.ver. In that rough'community no man' would own himself devoid of gratitude. 'Til do. as.. much, for, you,"> .was tho common acknowledgment of a favour. It appoared to Mills that ;his new i acquaintance might bo a precious scoundrel, but that point was not at present in issue, and there remained a debt to be satisfied before he could raiso that point;. „Thq knowledge that Frenchy: had shot a man did not trouble him_ in the least, so long as the accompanying circumstances and the.-motive were in accordance with the simple standards of Manicaland. Heso came in tho doubt, engendered by; nothing,; more concrete, or citable .than a trifle of niystory in tho man's manner,' and some undefined quality tljat disagreed with tho trader.-" He . glanced over to! him; .the Frenchman was 'blowing rings of smoko and smiling, at. them. There was nothing in his face but Innocent and boyish amusement. . "Gad, you're a cool hand;" exclaimed Mills;:/ "How d'you reckon we better ■ ; work.it?" > ■ ' .

■ "Oh ! stow it," broke in one of the «"If it iwasn't. that 'b'b got -,to go back pe shot, I'd iblow liia hcad 'bfE- 'iiow'." • "I'm not asking yon to let him go," 'crifed Mills. "But give the bloke, a chance,■ give /im-;; f<Tun. for- it. Why, \I .wouldn't kill a'dog so-jit's 'awful,— an'—ho saved j my life, chaps, he Bavcd my life." • '.fci-v'i'. "But-he'shot a woman,".said Chariey.- '* That'closed tho case';—the man' had committed 'the ultimate, crime.'' Nothing could 'avail ..him now.isHe,shot' a woman r-ho must ' suffer, '/ ; / "Jone," moaned>Xtie ; Vj-feenchman—the cords ;were f ''tatinK'iintbvjhii3^;fiesh—"Jone, I, paved yo'.life" V',', i ■ "Why couldn't' y6u' f .teU,>me?" cried Mills ,'passionatdy; r :i"wh"y'j couldn't : v you; trust me? rl ,'could ;fia' ,: gbt* you away. V".* ; "That'll'do," interrupted Dave,.'thrusting' Mills. aSido. trouble you for a drink and a bite-; old boy, an' then we'll start 1 , back." ' ■ Mills ■ led. ;the way to the skoff kia'.in silence. Thpro was 'food and drink, still 'on;the .table, and the men sat down"to it at' once.' The Frenchman'lay 'in £he middle of tho kraal, bound; his captors' weapons lay at their v feet. He, was as effectually a prisoner as if their five barrels were covering, him. Mills stood moodily watching ( . tho.v mencat, i. liis brain drummihgion 'the'angiiislied problem of' tho Frenchman's'" life or death without effort or volition on his part. "Got any moro poosa; told,boy?" asked Dave,: setting down the' ! whisky - bottle empty. "Yes," said Mills thoughtfully. "Plenty." He shouted,for. a boy, aiid one. came running. ' ' "6o to the store hut," ordered Mills slowly, "and bring a bottle of whisky.'' lie spoke the "kitchen-Kaffir" that everyone in Manicriland; understands. . "•■■■ • "I do' know," <■; replied;', the other, indifferently; "-J 1 * ,J - ' ■. :'«■v- . "You don't, oh? Well, d'you, think .they'll follow you all ■ night?" ' "I don' think," , said ..the Frenchman, with confidence and'; a f swelling of his; chest—"l don" think they wan' to meet mo',in .the., night. .^Not^ver 1 - naice, eh? Leetle''dangerous."-*• . ' ' , "r- ---; "H'iri. You've got a bit of an opinion 'of yourself, ■ anyhow. • If that s all right, l it'll, be time enough .to clear by daylight. Did you. belt just as you are—no- niggers, vno skoff, no anything?" ./ •/. . j'.. "No ;time,"i was the ' answer. '. "So I coom. out without - everything. Just hke this." - ;, :'

'."lean get 'you a couple of nigger's," mused Mills, "ail' you'll want a gun. Then, with sltofi for a 1 fortnight, you onght to be up at the Mazoe before they find your spoor. What- do'"you think?" ; "I' think i's ver' naice," smiled the other. "Then we'll hamba lala" (go to sleep), said Mills rising.'-; "I (lon't know how you feel, but Im just >do'no up." ) A bed was soon fixed for the Frenchman, ( who ..retired Jl light-hearted "poo' ''night."- ■ Mills, 'keeping full in view his guest's .awkward.position, and the necessity : 'for. t packing him off at daylight,' determined not to sleep. Hewent out of the kraal i'nd listened, to the night. \ It spoke with' a thousand voices; the great : factory of. days and nights, was in full swing; but he 1 caught n r - souad of human < approach, and returned to the -'huts'., toprepare. his guest's kit for . te'departure.-. lie - found and partially'cleaned an old : rifle, and un-packed-a' generous ..donation of-cart-ridges. Meal, for- the, carriers,, blankets and tinned meats-for .tho- Frenchman, were ' alb ; at. hand. . .Candles, a lantern, matches, gin, a-.-pannikin; a .pair' of. pots, and .so' on, soon completed . the outfit;.:; i Packing , is; generally an in-' teresting operation,: and-Mills was... an oxpert. in it. He ,forgot most of his perplexity and 'illeas'e.'as he adjusted the bundles - and measured - the-.commodities. •He had the .whole 1 of 'the gear: spread out on the floor of ;thO: skofE kia when a • voice , accosted him. "You needn't bother no more, Jack," it.said softly. . .. ■' A man tiptoed in. lie was shortand lightly built, and carried a sporting riflu in his hand.'..-His", reddish moustache was draggled with dew and his clothes were soaked in it. He looked at Mills with gleeful blue eyes. : "Where's Frenchy?" he asked softly. Mills laboured- to express surprise. "What're yon talkin'. about?". ho demanded ' loudly. : "Don't shout, blast yor!" whispered the other vehemently. "We saw yer go up 'ero together, Jack, and nobody -ain't gone away since. There's five of us, Jack;-and we want; that swine—we want 'im : bad." ; '" v . "What for?" asked 'Mills desperately, without lowering his voice. ' The other made an impatio'nt gesture for'silence, but'his words wore arrested by a clamour in the yard. - There wero shouts and curses and the sound of blows. .. "Weive .got 'im, Charley," shouted some : one triumphantly. .The. smaller man rushed out, and Mills followed' swiftly. There, was a blackness of moving forms in the open, and some one struck a The man called .Charley, stepped forward. Mills saw the face and hand of a man standing upright, brilliantly illuminated• by tho .flame of i;the match; and on the ground three -men, who knelt on and (ibout a prostrato figure. 'One was busy with somo cord. In the background stood Mills's Kafirs. . The match burned down to tho holder's fingers, and ho dropped it. "Well, Dave," said Mills, "what's'the mcanin' o' this -gamo- o' yours—comin' to a man's kia' in 1 the middlo o' tho night and ropin' his mato out o' bed?" ,' Tho man who had lit tho match laughed. "That you, Jack?" ho said. "Well, you wouldn't "be so ready to call this bloke 'mate' if' you knew what he'd been up to." ( "The—swine!" commented Charley.

"Get a lantern," commanded Mills to tho Kafirs. "What d'you mean?" he asked of the tall man. i "110 shot, a woman I" 6aid Davo. The tono was eloquent of tho speaker's rage and disgust. Mills stared open-mouthed. "A woman'."he gasped. "A woaian," replied Davo. "Shot her, as bold as tho devil, on the street, in the daytime, and did a bolt for tho bush. Evory jnan that could put foot to tho ground is out aftor him." A Kafir arrived tlien with tho lantorn Mills had designed for the Frenchman, and by :its light he was able to see the faces of the men. They wero all known to him. Tho man/who was cording the prisoner's arms had seen his daring work at Mandega's. lie knelt on the prostrate form as ho worked, and the Frenchman's face showed like a waxen mask on the ground. Blood was running from a deep cut on his cheek. "I savo,yo' life, Jone," ho gasped. "Shut up!"'snapped one of the men, and- struck him on. the mouth. "Here,", protested Mills; "go slow, can't'you ! There's no call to bang him about. Thoy stared at him with astonishment. "Why, man," exclaimed Charley, didn't we tell yon he 6hot a woman." "What's that he said about savin your life?" domanded Dave. I' "He did," explained Mills. He told them the story, and they listened without sympathy.. ... "It was a bloomin' plucky thing to do," concluded tho trader. _ "I d ha , .bin dead by now but for him, and I owo 'im one for it." "Oh, nobody's sayin' ho 1 isn't plucky,"' said tho man who had been tying the Frenchman's arms, as he rose to his feet. "He's the dare-devillist swine alive, but he's done with it now." ,Dave camo round and clapped Mills oh tiro shoulder. "Ifs worked you a bit soft, old man," ho said. • "Why, : hang' it all, you wouldn't havQ .us let. him go after shooting a woman, would you?" Yes, baas," said tho native. "But first," said Mills,, still speaking slowly and quietly, "take- a knife and .cut -loose the man on the;, ground. Quick!" The last,word was a shout. Dave sprang to his feet and stood motionless. The others were arrested in tho action of rising or reaching their weapons. ' From tho wall besido himMills, had reached a revolver and hold them covered. .The barrel' moved over them, presenting its black threatful mouth to.one after tho other. It moved in jerks, but not without purpose. It hold them all subject, and the first movement doomed. ..- '" "Jack !" ; cried Da:vb. "Shut up,!" eommailded Mills. "Don't move-now. . . For God's sake don't move. I'll shoot' the' first ono that does."

"He shot a woman," they protested. "Ho 6aved my life,'' said, Mills. "Aro you all right, Frenchy?" "Tais," came the answer, and with it the ghost of a laugh. Mills ; did not look round, and the' steady remorseless barrel still sailed to arid fro ( across tho faces of the men in thii'hut. ' ' ' , "Clear,, out, then," he shouted. "I'll only give you five minutes. Ton shot a woman. And Frenchy " "Yais, Jone." . / ''This makesus quits, see?" ■'■■■! "Ver- good, Jone. • Good-bye/' "Good-bye, Frenchy.' "'Dave- ripped out a curse and shifted slightly. The barrel sprang round, to :him,' and:' he froze into stillness. ' 'Don't'do that-'again, Davy," warned ■ Mills..' : "You?ll,catch it hot for this," snarled one of .them.. •• '. ! .. "Very, like.""* roplie'd the 'trader. ; ..He .counted ,ai liberal five minutes, by guess) .-He fdared not. look away from ; liia 'men: f At last;, he.spoke. , • ""It was',up. to'me,'boys," he : said with, a sigh. "I.couldnft, do ho less. If it'.'ad' been a man 'o shot I'd ha' kept you here all day. But I've'done : enough,'! reckon, seeiu' it was a woman." Ho dropped the revolver to tho ground. "Now!" he said. . i They" sat round and stared at him. For. full. a minute no., ono spoke. Mills gave them back'their eyes gloomily, leaning with: folded; arms against the wall. Then Dave drew a long breath, a very, sigh. "Well, Jack," he said, shaking his •.head, I didn't think, it of you,—l 'didn't, indeed. ' A skunk like that!' a woman-sjiooter, and a Frenchman! You .didn't, use to be. like this.'' "We're quits now, him and me," answered Mills. "He saved my 'life, and I'm satisfied. So if you've got anything to say—or do—then got it over." , burst out at this ,in a fuss of anger. "You ought to be shot," ho shouted. "That's all you're fit for." . "Charley's right," growled one of the others) . •; , "Oh, out it off,"; cried Dave impationtly; "wp're,?not. going, ' Jo.: shoot ■ Jack. But I griess we., won't say we've lost tho Frenchman yet." , He lowered his brows and turned his eyes on Mills. ... . ' ' "You an' him's quits;-Jack, he said. "What do you think about it?',' . Millslooked, tip. 6lowly, like a man noivly'awakened' from a-dream'./ ■ "You might get a shot at him from the path," he answered musingly. "That is; if he's keeping north. I'll show you •theplace." "You don't think we'd have a chance of catching, him?" . ' "Not a 'ghost," ■ replied, the trader decisively. "Once you get into tho kloof, lie's lost. .All you can do is wait till he breaks cover down below,' an' try a'long shot Bv God!" he Cried with sudden energy, 'Til try a lick at him myself. We're quits now, the—the womanshooter!".' ■ He snatched 'a rifle, and led the way, the others tumbling after him. Some hundred -yards beyond : the kraal the footpath dipped abruptly towards , the valley, and at an angle,of it thero was to be gained a clear view of the bush beneath, where it surged at tho foot of the hill and ran down tho kloof; at the lower part of ,the.kloof it ceased, and the ground was bare, red earth_ for a space of some thousand yards. Mills sat down on a stone. • Dave' squatted beside'him', and the others gjroupfcd themselves on adjacent boulders.

.•' The sun was well into the sky by now —it wia about six o'clock in the morning ■. The air was of. diamond, and the chill!of the night"h'atl.already passed. The men glueil their, eyes on tho bare patch and waited. ■■~ ; ' • "Funny, came. you played up thcro, whisnered Dave to the trader. Mills nodded without speaking. "I'm not blaming you," continued the other. "I-reckon I understand, But are yon-goin' to shoot lit him?" .' '"I am thai," was tho reply.. . "Well, I- hone you get him." said Dave. "The chaps'll forget the- other business then. They didn't like it, you knownobody would." ' ' "It's not because I care for them or what they think," besan. Mills., ."I Mow it's 'not," interrupted Dave. "You know all tlie ranges, I suppose?" "Nine hundred yards to. that . black spot," said Mills. "The spot's a bit of a holo in the ground. Twelve hundred to the big boulder." ... . , He rose off the stono he was sitting on and 1 lay down oil tho path, belly-under, and 'ran up tho back-sight of his weapon with care. Flinging back tho bolt, he blew into the chamber and thrust a cartridge in; tested the air with a wet finger, and wriggled -the butt home into his shouldor. Dave watched him in silence;' Mills was, he knew, a.good shot, and ho was now preparing, with all tho little tricks and graces of the riflo range, to pull trigger on tho man ho had risked—nay, almost thrown away—his lilo to save from the consequences of an unspeakablo crime. . . "Ah!" breathed •: Mills, with an artist's luxurious satisfaction. Down the valley a figure had broken from the bush, and was plainly to be seen against the red ground.' The men on the hill flopped down and prepared to shoot. "Don't fire,''_ Dave warned .the others. Ho was watching Mills. The trader's faco boro no signs of his recent mental struggle. It carried no expression whatever save one of cool interest, just touched'with a craftsman's confidence. Hi 6 barrel was steady as his head. The little figure below was moving over tho rough ground towards the black spot. They could see its legs' working grotesquely, like a mechanical toy. "So," murmured Mills. "Now, just a little farther. So!" lie fired. Thoro was no leap into the air, no tragic bound and sprawling tumble. The little figure in the valley fell whore it was, and never moved. ' Mills jerked open his breech. "I'll bet that took him in tho spino," lie said. Porcival Gibbon, in "Blackwood's Magazine."