"I've got a barker, sorr," observed Pat, with a laugh, tapping his hip-pocket. "An officer of the ould corps gave it me many years ago, an' we've not parted company yet."
"Wait here till I return," said Jack authoritatively; and the settler's son went back to the house.
Jack proceeded straight to a storeroom where Mr. Lovat was in the habit of keeping his rifles and ammunition. He selected a weapon of the Lee-Enfield pattern, and took down a bandolier which was hanging on a peg. The bandolier was empty, but Jack broke open an ammunition box and filled the pockets of the belt with cartridges, after which he returned to Pat.
"Here, take these, Pat," said Jack, handing up the rifle and bandolier, which the Irishman took. The latter slung the belt over his shoulder, and, at Jack's suggestion, filled the magazine of the rifle.
"Well, good-bye, sorr," said Pat, and the next moment Cawdor was proceeding at a canter down the mountain road.
An hour passed, still no signs of Mr. Lovat or Pat, and Jack's anxiety increased. The ostrich farmer was a man of his word, and Jack began to fear that something was wrong, but he kept a cheerful face in front of his mother and Mary.
They were sitting in the dining-room, partaking of tea, when a tap was heard on the half-open door. Jack instantly rose to his feet and went outside. In the hall stood Pete. The Kaffir did not speak, but beckoned with his forefinger, and then passed through a door leading to a back yard.
Jack followed, and when outside, said, "Well, Pete, what is it?"
"Baas Jack," exclaimed Pete, "I dunno, but something is wrong. Come!" and the native walked rapidly round to the front of the house, Jack following in wonderment.
"Look, baas," said the Kaffir, "what does that mean?" and he pointed to what appeared to be a moving spot on the veldt.