Suddenly, to his astonishment, Hickey leaped to his feet, with an agility unheard of in one so nearly dying. Pointing to the nearest kopjie, he shouted hoarsely:
"Look! There's a man—near that kopjie—he's coming this way!"
It was no dream. A man, unarmed and unaccompanied, was advancing toward them. From his dress and manner, it was easy to see that he was not a Boer farmer. He looked more like an Englishman or an American.
Scarcely able to believe the evidence of his own eyes, Handsome watched his progress.
As he came nearer, he waved his hand to show that he saw them, and he walked faster, as if afraid that they might disappear before he could reach them. Hickey, unable to restrain himself, had run forward, and in a few minutes they met.
"Who are you?" demanded the stranger, whose face, shaded as it was by a big canvas helmet, it was difficult to see.
"Miners from the Vaal," answered Hickey. "Who are you?"
"I am a Frenchman—François Chalat. I am ze valet of an American gentleman. Our party not know ze road. We has wandered from what you call ze trail. Will you show ze way to us?"
"Where's your party?" demanded Hickey.
François pointed to a kopjie about three miles distant.