should not slip from the saddle and bruise her little nose. They advanced slowly in silence; only Kali hummed under his nose—a song in praise of Stas.
"Great master kills Gebhr, kills a lion and a buffalo! Yah! Yah! Much meat! Much meat! Yah! Yah!"
"Kali," Stas asked in a low tone, "do the Wahimas hunt lions?"
"The Wahimas fear lions but the Wahimas dig pits and if in the night time the lion falls in, then the Wahimas laugh."
"What do you then do?"
"The Wahimas hurl lot of spears until lion is like a hedgehog. Then they pull him out of the pit and eat him. Lion is good." And according to his habit, he stroked his stomach.
Stas did not like this method of hunting; so he began to ask what other game there was in the Wahima country and they conversed further about antelopes, ostriches, giraffes, and rhinoceroses until the roar of a waterfall reached them.
"What is that?" Stas exclaimed. "Are there a river and waterfall ahead of us?"
Kali nodded his head in sign that obviously such was the fact.
And for some time they rode more quickly, listening to the roar which each moment became more and more distinct.
"A waterfall!" repeated Stas, whose curiosity was aroused.
But they had barely passed one or two bends when their way was barred by an impassable obstruction.
Nell, whom the motion of the horse had lulled to sleep, awoke at once.
"Are we already stopping for the night?" she asked.
