“It is all very wonderful,” she said when I had done, “very wonderful indeed.  Do you know I went out this morning with Hendrika and the dogs for a ride, meaning to get back home by mid-day, for my father is ill, and I do not like to leave him for long.  But just as I was going to turn, when we were about where we are now—­yes, that was the very bush—­an oribe got up, and the dogs chased it.  I followed them for the gallop, and when we came to the river, instead of turning to the left as bucks generally do, the oribe swam the stream and took to the Bad Lands beyond.  I followed it, and within a hundred yards of the big tree the dogs killed it.  Hendrika wanted to turn back at once, but I said that we would rest under the shade of the tree, for I knew that there was a spring of water near.  Well, we went; and there I saw you all lying like dead; but Hendrika, who is very clever in some ways, said no—­and you know the rest.  Yes, it is very wonderful.”

“It is indeed,” I said.  “Now tell me, Miss Stella, who is Hendrika?”

She looked round before answering to see that the woman was not near.

“Hers is a strange story, Mr. Allan.  I will tell you.  You must know that all these mountains and the country beyond are full of baboons.  When I was a girl of about ten I used to wander a great deal alone in the hills and valleys, and watch the baboons as they played among the rocks.  There was one family of baboons that I watched especially—­they used to live in a kloof about a mile from the house.  The old man baboon was very large, and one of the females had a grey face.  But the reason why I watched them so much was because I saw that they had with them a creature that looked like a girl, for her skin was quite white, and, what was more, that she was protected from the weather when it happened to be cold by a fur belt of some sort, which was tied round her throat.  The old baboons seemed to be especially fond of her, and would sit with their arms round her neck.  For nearly a whole summer I watched this particular white-skinned baboon till at last my curiosity quite overmastered me.  I noticed that, though she climbed about the cliffs with the other monkeys, at a certain hour a little before sundown they used to put her with one or two other much smaller ones into a little cave, while the family went off somewhere to get food, to the mealie fields, I suppose.  Then I got an idea that I would catch this white baboon and bring it home.  But of course I could not do this by myself, so I took a Hottentot—­a very clever man when he was not drunk—­who lived on the stead, into my confidence.  He was called Hendrik, and was very fond of me; but for a long while he would not listen to my plan, because he said that the babyans would kill us.  At last I bribed him with a knife that had four blades, and one afternoon we started, Hendrik carrying a stout sack made of hide, with a rope running through it so that the mouth could be drawn tight.