"I killed that this morning," said he. "Cooked, and in this cool climate, it will keep for days. Besides, my brother and I can hunt upon the mountain; but you and your two friends must remain here until the Germans have left the district. Then we can continue our march towards Maziriland."
In his heart Harry Urquhart felt more than gratitude towards these strange, gallant men. They were loyal, faithful, courageous, and full of infinite resource. They seemed to love adventure for its own sake, after the manner of the old Spanish explorers—the followers of Columbus—whose blood ran in their veins.
For three days the party remained in this singular hiding-place. Every morning the brothers went out to hunt. Harry and Braid did not mind the monotony of their temporary imprisonment, first, because they knew that this was their only place of safety, and, secondly, because they were glad enough of a few days' rest after all the exertions and privations they had undergone in the wilderness of the bush.
At midnight on the third night, something that was well-nigh miraculous occurred. All were asleep except Harry Urquhart, who was doing his turn on watch. He was walking to and fro along the gallery, and had reached a spot immediately underneath the hole which was covered by the stone, when suddenly a great shaft of moonlight shot down into the cave.
It was a moment before the boy realized what had happened—that the stone had been rolled away. Before he had time to give the alarm, to cry out, or bring his rifle to his shoulder, the stone was rolled back again, and all was dim and silent as before.
He ran to the fire and woke up his companions. All sprang to their feet. In a few breathless words Harry told them what had happened. Jim Braid seized a lighted brand from the fire, which was burning brightly, and carried this to the end of the gallery. Sure enough the stone was back in its place.
"Are you sure," he asked, "you were not dreaming?"
"I can swear to it," said Harry.
"What's that?" cried Braid, pointing to something white that lay upon the floor.
Harry Urquhart stooped, and to his amazement picked up a letter, written in German, which was addressed to: