"If we can find poor Pete's body, we'll bury him decently," said Jack. "He was a good and faithful servant of my father's."
"I'm afraid there will scarcely be any necessity for that," observed Morton. "The aasvogels, I am afraid, will have been at work."
The summit of the kopje was soon reached, and presently Jack and his companion were overlooking the immense depression known as the Diamond Valley.
Jack led the way straight to where the Kaffir Pete had been killed, and to his great satisfaction found that the poor black's body had been left untouched by the loathsome birds of prey, although several of them could be seen hovering in the air at some distance away.
Our hero insisted upon Pete having a decent temporary interment, and a hollow was soon found, in which the "boy" was placed, and covered with stones and earth.
"Now, Jack, my boy, we must make tracks for the diamonds," said Morton, after the burying operations were completed. "Hullo!" he added. "Look out, Jack!"
The New Zealander, one of the coolest Irregulars serving in the campaign, was speaking in an excited tone of voice.
Jack Lovat turned his head in surprise. Not more than a yard from him, a huge black snake, with uplifted head and ominous-looking poison fangs, was preparing to hurl itself on the young settler.
In a moment Jack took in the situation, and sprang aside. A rifle report rang out, and the loathsome reptile fell at Jack's feet, an inert mass of dead matter. A bullet from Sergeant Morton's rifle had shattered the snake's head.
"A near squeak that, Jack," said Morton, with a laugh. "They tell me that a bite from one of these snakes means almost instant death."