"It is only paint, dear," I said; "see, we will wash it and your face."

As I was doing this, Indaba-zimbi returned. The guns were all gone;
he said the Zulus had taken them and the powder. But he had found some
things and brought them in a sack. There was a thick blanket, about
twenty pounds weight of biltong or sun-dried meat, a few double-handfuls
of biscuits, two water-bottles, a tin pannikin, some matches and
sundries.

"And now, Macumazahn," he said, "we had best be going, for those
Umtetwas are coming back. I saw one of them on the brow of the rise."

That was enough for me. I lifted little Tota on to the bow of my saddle,
climbed into it, and rode off, holding her in front of me. Indaba-zimbi
slipped a reim into the mouth of the best of the Boer horses, threw
of the sack of sundries on to its back and mounted also, holding the
elephant gun in his hand. We went eight or nine hundred yards in silence
till we were quite out of range of sight from the waggons, which were
in a hollow. Then I pulled up, with such a feeling of thankfulness in
my heart as cannot be told in words; for now I knew that, mounted as
we were, those black demons could never catch us. But where were we to
steer for? I put the question to Indaba-zimbi, asking him if he thought
that we had better try and follow the oxen which we had sent away with
the Kaffirs and women on the preceding night. He shook his head.

"The Umtetwas will go after the oxen presently," he answered, "and we
have seen enough of them."

"Quite enough," I answered, with enthusiasm; "I never want to see
another; but where are we to go? Here we are alone with one gun and a