I returned to the huts at mid-day to get some dinner.  Stella said that she was going to pack during the afternoon, so I did not think it necessary to caution her about going out alone, as I did not wish to allude to the subject of Hendrika and the baboons unless I was obliged to.  I told her, however, that I would come back to help her as soon as I could get away.  Then I went down to the native kraals to sort out such cattle as had belonged to Mr. Carson from those which belonged to the Kaffirs, for I proposed to take them with us.  It was a large herd, and the business took an incalculable time.  At length, a little before sundown, I gave it up, and leaving Indaba-zimbi to finish the job, got on my horse and rode homewards.

Arriving, I gave the horse to one of the stable boys, and went into the central hut.  There was no sign of Stella, though the things she had been packing lay about the floor.  I passed first into our sleeping hut, thence one by one into all the others, but still saw no sign of her.  Then I went out, and calling to a Kaffir in the garden asked him if he had seen his mistress.

He answered “yes.”  He had seen her carrying flowers and walking towards the graveyard, holding the little white girl—­my daughter—­as he called her, by the hand, when the sun stood “there,” and he pointed to a spot on the horizon where it would have been about an hour and a half before.  “The two dogs were with them,” he added.  I turned and ran towards the graveyard, which was about a quarter of a mile from the huts.  Of course there was no reason to be anxious—­evidently she had gone to lay the flowers on her father’s grave.  And yet I was anxious.

When I got near the graveyard I met one of the natives, who, by my orders, had been set round the kraals to watch the place, and noticed that he was rubbing his eyes and yawning.  Clearly he had been asleep.  I asked him if he had seen his mistress, and he answered that he had not, which under the circumstances was not wonderful.  Without stopping to reproach him, I ordered the man to follow me, and went on to the graveyard.  There, on Mr. Carson’s grave, lay the drooping flowers which Stella had been carrying, and there in the fresh mould was the spoor of Tota’s veldschoon, or hide slipper.  But where were they?

I ran from the graveyard and called aloud at the top of my voice, but no answer came.  Meanwhile the native was more profitably engaged in tracing their spoor.  He followed it for about a hundred yards till he came to a clump of mimosa bush that was situated between the stream and the ancient marble quarries just over the waterfall, and at the mouth of the ravine.  Here he stopped, and I heard him give a startled cry.  I rushed to the spot, passed through the trees, and saw this.  The little open space in the centre of the glade had been the scene of a struggle.  There, in the soft earth, were the marks of three pairs of human feet—­two shod, one naked—­Stella’s, Tota’s, and Hendrika’s.  Nor was this all.  There, close by, lay the fragments of the two dogs—­they were nothing more—­and one baboon, not yet quite dead, which had been bitten in the throat by the dogs.  All round was the spoor of numberless baboons.  The full horror of what had happened flashed into my mind.