Instead of tiring out Schillingschen we made an early camp by a watercourse, and built a very big protection for the donkeys against lions—­a high thorn enclosure, and an outer one not so high, with a space between them wide enough for the two tents and half a dozen big fires.  Before dark we had enough fuel stacked up to keep the fires blazing well all night long.

Neither Coutlass nor Brown had had a drink of whisky that day, so it was all the more remarkable that Coutlass lay down early in a corner of the tent and fell into a sound sleep almost at once.  We were thoroughly glad of it.  Our plan was for two of us to creep out of camp when it was dark enough, and recover the contents of that tin box before Schillingschen or the blacks could forestall us.

The lions began roaring again at about sundown, but they love donkey-meat more than almost any except giraffe, and it was not likely they would trouble us.  We were so sure the task was not particularly risky that Fred, who would have insisted on the place of greater danger for himself, consented willingly enough to stay in camp while Will and I went back.  Our original intention was to take Schillingschen’s patent, wind-proof, non-upsettable camp lantern to find the way with and keep wild beasts at bay; but just as Will went toward the tent to fetch it (Fred’s back was turned, over on the far side where he was seeing to the camp-fires) we both at once caught sight of Coutlass creeping on hands and knees along a shadow.  We had closed the gap in the outer wall of thorn, but he dragged aside enough to make an opening and slipped through, thinking himself unobserved.

To have followed him with a lantern would have been worse than my crime of stalking lions in the dark.  Will ran to tell Fred what had happened while I followed the Greek through the gap, and presently Will and I were both hot on his trail, as close to him as we could keep without letting him hear us.

“Fred says,” Will whispered, “if we catch him talking with Schillingschen, shoot ’em both!  Fred won’t let him into camp again unless we bring back proof he’s not a traitor!”

We were pursuing a practised hunter, who at first kept stopping to make sure he was not followed.  He took a line across that wild country in the dark with such assurance, and so swiftly that it was unbelievably hard to follow him quietly.  It was not long before we lost sound of him.  Then we ran more freely, trusting to luck as much as anything to keep him thinking he had the darkness to himself.

Our short day’s journey seemed to have trebled itself!  We were leg-weary and tired-eyed when at last we reached, and nearly fell into a hollow we recognized.  Will went down and struck a match to get a look at his watch.

“There ought to be a moon in about ten minutes,” he whispered.  “We’re within sight of the place.  Suppose we climb a tree and scout about a bit.”