"Now," said Jan, "why do you ride my best horse to death in this
fashion?"

"Have I not told you, father of Swallow," she answered, "that it was
to save you from death? But a few minutes over an hour ago, fifteen
perhaps, a word was spoken to me at your stead yonder and now I am here,
seven leagues away, having ridden faster than I wish to ride again,
or than any other horse in this country can travel with a man upon its
back."

"To save us from death! What death?" asked Jan astounded.

"Death at the hands of Swart Piet and his Kaffir tribesmen for the three
of you and the two slaves, and for the fourth, the lady Swallow there,
a love which she does not seek, the love of the murderer of her father,
her mother, and her chosen."

Now we stared at each other; only Suzanne ran to Sihamba, and putting
her arms about her, she kissed her.

"Nay," said the little woman smiling, "nay, Swallow, I do but repay to
you one-hundredth part of my debt, and all the rest is owing still."

Then she told her story in few words, and when it was done, having
first looked to see that Swart Piet and his men were not coming, at the
bidding of Jan we all knelt down upon the veldt and thanked the Almighty
for our deliverance. Only Sihamba did not kneel, for she was a heathen,
and worshipped no one unless it were Suzanne.

"You should pray to the horse, too," she said, "for had it not been for