I was not slow to take Indaba-zimbi's hint. About a hundred and fifty
yards to the left of the laager was a little dell where I had hidden
my horse, together with one belonging to the Boers, and my saddle and
bridle. Thither we went, I carrying the swooning Tota in my arms. To our
joy we found the horses safe, for the Zulus had not seen them. Now, of
course, they were our only means of locomotion, for the oxen had been
sent away, and even had they been there we could not have found time to
inspan them. I laid Tota down, caught my horse, undid his knee halter,
and saddled up. As I was doing so a thought struck me, and I told
Indaba-zimbi to run to the laager and see if he could find my
double-barrelled gun and some powder and shot, for I had only my
elephant "roer" and a few charges of powder and ball with me.

He went, and while he was away, poor little Tota came to herself and
began to cry, till she saw my face.

"Ah, I have had such a bad dream," she said, in Dutch: "I dreamed that
the black Kaffirs were going to kill me. Where is my papa?"

I winced at the question. "Your papa has gone on a journey, dear," I
said, "and left me to look after you. We shall find him one day. You
don't mind going with Heer Allan, do you?"

"No," she said, a little doubtfully, and began to cry again. Presently
she remembered that she was thirsty, and asked for water. I led her to
the river and she drank. "Why is my hand red, Heer Allan?" she asked,
pointing to the smear of Bombyane's blood-stained fingers.

At this moment I felt very glad that I had killed Bombyane.