'Hullo,' I said, 'ish that my black friend? Awfly shorry, old man, but I've f'nish'd th' whisky. The bo-o-ottle shempty,' and I waved it upside down with an imbecile giggle.

Laputa said something which I did not catch. Henriques laughed an ugly laugh.

'We had better make certain of him,' he said.

The two argued for a minute, and then Laputa seemed to prevail. The door was shut and the key, which I had left in the lock, turned on me.

I gave them five minutes to get to the outhouse and settle to business. Then I opened the trap, got into the cellar, and crawled to the other end. A ray of light was coming through the partially raised door. By a blessed chance some old bricks had been left behind, and of these I made a footstool, which enabled me to get my back level with the door and look out. My laager of barrels was intact, but through a gap I had left I could see the two men sitting on the two cases I had provided for them. A lantern was set between them, and Henriques was drinking out of a metal flask.

He took something - I could not see what - out of his pocket, and held it before his companion.

'Spoils of war,' he said. 'I let Sikitola's men draw first blood. They needed it to screw up their courage. Now they are as wild as Umbooni's.

'It was the Dutchmen, who were out on the Koodoo Flats with their cattle. Man, it's no good being squeamish. Do you think you can talk over these surly back-veld fools? If we had not done it, the best of their horses would now be over the Berg to give warning. Besides, I tell you, Sikitola's men wanted blooding. I did for the old swine, Coetzee, with my own hands. Once he set his dogs on me, and I don't forget an injury.'

(Editor：reading)