The Press., 1894-11-08

nant and yelled: Dirk, Dirk, have you
 no manners? It's me, George Kenstone.
 want you. Stop' Still the man passed on. In another moment he had reached the bush again. He turned now, beck oned to me with his right hand, and in another instant had disappeared into the low forest.
 II was extremely annoyed, and after staring like s fool for a second to two
 struck in spurs rather sharply and gal
 loped after him. 1 was not three sec- onds in reaching the bush where he had entered, but to my surprise Dirk had
 vanished. Isearched hither and thither,
 shouted-aye, sWore-but still no Dirk
 I came back at length to the point where
 I had last seen the Boer. Surprise Mo-
 3. There was my own spoor as plain as a pikestaf ill the red sand, but of Dirk Starreberg not one trace of spoor was to be seen. -
 ''Now, spoor, as you all know, is a thing that never lies. I had seen Dirk cross. the clearing and enter the bush at this point. Where were his tracks? I got off my horse and hunted carefully every bit of the way across the glade where had seen Dirk pass. am rea- | sonably good veldtman, but-so help me God!-I never could find one trace of the mans spoor, this way or that. 1 rubbed my eyes. It was incomprehensi- ble I searched again and again care- fully and methodically, with the same result. There was always my own and my horses spoor, but no one else's. By this time was not little both cred. There must be some internal mys- tery which I could not fathom. My eye | sight had never yet failed me. It was ] broad daylight, and Twas neither asleep nor dreaming nor drunk. An old child ish superstition crept for an instant upon my nind, to be instantly cast aside. And yet the flesh, even of grown manhood, is weak. remember distinct ly that I shivered, blazing hot as was the afternoon. The bush seemed very still and lonely, and I am bound to say it suddenly struck me it was time to move for the wagon. I got onto my good nag, walked him away and pres ently set him into brisk canter, which only once slackened till I made the camp just at sundown couple of hours later.
 II told Angus what I had seen. He laughed and told me I had evidently missed the spoor, although he admitted that it was strange that Dirk had made no sign when l hailed him, and next morning we moved on rapidly, picked up the meat of the dead giraffe and then little later struck the wagon spoor had found yesterday. This we follow ed briskly until o'clock D. m., when we came upon an old outspan and dis covery No. 4.
 ''Here was good sized water pit in limestone formation. There were the remains of the campfire, and it was evi- dent from several indications that the wagon, whose ever it was, had stood at least two days at this spot. The kameel doorn trees grew pretty thickly all around, and there was good deal of bush, and altogether it was a sequester- ed, silent spot. Lying by the largest of the dead fires was an object that in- stantly quickened our interest ill the mystery we were unraveling-the skele- ton of man, clean picked by the foul vultures, but apparently untouched by hyenas or iackals. There were still the tattered remains of clothing upon it, and one veldtschoen-a Boer veldt- schoen-up the right foot. 1 turned over the poor bleached framework to try to discover some inkling of it's end As l did so out battered from the skull on to the sand solid Matini- Henry bull let, slightly fattened on one side of its apex, manifestly from impact with some bone it had encountered, probably a cheek bone. A closer scrutiny reveal ed a big hole ill rear of the skull just behind the right ear.
 By Georgep exclaimed Angus, who was bending over me, there's been foul play here. That shot was fired at pretty close quarters
 T nodded, and at that instant my Masarwa, who had been searching about near us, picked up and brought me a bunch of long red hair.
 '' So help me God! could not help exclaiming, that's from Dirk Starre- berg's beard for any money. He has been murdered here, that's certain. If l it was an accident, they would have | buried him. The question is, Who is | the murderer?'
 I've hunted about, but found no traces except the other veldtschoen and the remains of a Dutchman's broad | brimmed hat. We outspanned for the night and sat down to think it over and | have pipe while supper was being got ready.
 Angus said, I don't half like things. There's some dark riddle here The fire I saw yesterday afternoon was Dirk Starreberg's. I knew him we'll and never could mistake him. And, strangely enough, he was heading when l last saw him for this very spot. If I be- lieved in ghosts, which don't, should say had seen Dirk's spook What do you make of it all? Pm beginning to think Pm dreaming or going dotty It beats me altogether.
 .. We'll, returned Angus ill his quaint way, its the most extreeordi- nary rum go l ever heard of. We'd bet ter trek on in the morning first thing and see what else we can discover Those are Dirk's bones undoubtedly. We must try and do something for the poor chap, though he is dead
 II don't know what was wrong that night, but several times the oxen were startled and sprang to their feet, and he nags, fastened up to the wagon wheels, were desperately scared once IT twice and pulled at their reins as : hough, they must break them. The f logs, too, parked and howled and be- ' ,ayed very strangely. And yet no lions ' were near us. Once or twice we looked ' ut, but saw nothing. All of us, mas- { CTS and boys, were uncomfortable, we | ould hardly explain why, and the men { undoubtedly knew nothing of what I lad seen the day before.
 'At dawn next morning we were not orry to inspan and trek, and following he old wagon spoor we pushed on, de-
 THROW TIT AWAY
 f