When we had finished, old Allan said:--



"With your leave I'll tell you a story of what I think was one of the
bravest things I ever saw. It happened at the beginning of the Zulu War,
when the troops were marching into Zululand. Now at that time, as you
know, I was turning an honest penny transport-riding for the Government,
or rather for the military authorities. I hired them three wagons with
the necessary voorloopers and drivers, sixteen good salted oxen to each
wagon, and myself in charge of the lot. They paid me, well, never mind
how much--I am rather ashamed to mention the amount. The truth is that
the Imperial officers bought in a dear market during that Zulu War;
moreover, things were not always straight. I could tell you stories of
folk, not all of them Colonials, who got rich quicker than they ought,
commissions and that kind of thing. But perhaps these are better
forgotten. As for me, I asked a good price for my wagons, or rather for
the hire of them, of a very well-satisfied young gentleman in uniform
who had been exactly three weeks in the country, and to my surprise,
got it. But when I went to those in command and warned them what would
happen if they persisted in their way of advance, then in their pride
they would not listen to the old hunter and transport-rider, but
politely bowed me out. If they had, there would have been no Isandhlwana
disaster."

He brooded awhile, for, as I knew, this was a sore subject with him, one
on which he would rarely talk. Although he escaped himself, Quatermain
had lost friends on that fatal field. He went on:--

"To return to old Magepa. I had known him for many years. The first time