Accordingly, when Ralph had reloaded his gun, which took some time—­for in those days we had scarcely anything but flintlocks—­yes, it was with weapons like these that a handful of us beat the hosts of Dingaan and Moselikatse—­they started to follow the blood spoor up the kloof, which was not difficult, as the animal had bled much.  Near to the top of the kloof the trail led them through a thick clump of mimosas, and there in the dell beyond they found the riet-buck lying dead.  Riding to it they dismounted and examined it.

“Poor beast,” said Suzanne; “look how the tears have run down its face.  Well, I am glad that it is dead and done with,” and she sighed and turned away, for Suzanne was a silly and tender-hearted girl who never could understand that the animals—­yes, and the heathen Kaffirs, too—­were given to us by the Lord for our use and comfort.

Presently she started and said, “Ralph, do you remember this place?”

He glanced round and shook his head, for he was wondering whether he would be able to lift the buck on to the horse without asking Suzanne to help him.

“Look again,” she said; “look at that flat stone and the mimosa tree lying on its side near it.”

Ralph dropped the leg of the buck and obeyed her, for he would always do as Suzanne bade him, and this time it was his turn to start.

“Almighty!” he said, “I remember now.  It was here that you found me, Suzanne, after I was shipwrecked, and the tigers stared at us through the boughs of that fallen tree,” and he shivered a little, for the sight of the spot brought back to his heart some of the old terrors which had haunted his childhood.

“Yes, Ralph, it was here that I found you.  I heard the sound of your voice as you knelt praying on this stone, and I followed it.  God heard that prayer, Ralph.”

“And sent an angel to save me in the shape of a little maid,” he answered; adding, “Don’t blush so red, dear, for it is true that ever since that day, whenever I think of angels, I think of you; and whenever I think of you I think of angels, which shows that you and the angels must be close together.”

“Which shows that you are a wicked and silly lad to talk thus to a Boer girl,” she answered, turning away with a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes, for his words had pleased her mind and touched her heart.

He looked at her, and she seemed so sweet and beautiful as she stood thus, smiling and weeping together as the sun shines through summer rain, that, so he told me afterwards, something stirred in his breast, something soft and strong and new, which caused him to feel as though of a sudden he had left his boyhood behind him and become a man, aye, and as though this fresh-faced manhood sought but one thing more from Heaven to make it perfect, the living love of the fair maiden who until this hour had been his sister in heart though not in blood.

“Suzanne,” he said in a changed voice, “the horses are tired; let them rest, and let us sit upon this stone and talk a little, for though we have never visited it for many years the place is lucky for you and me since it was here that our lives first came together.”