struck　me。　　It　was　true；　I　could　prove　nothing；　having　no　witnesses；　and
  henceforward　I　should　be　a　Cain　among　the　Boers；　one　who　had　slain　a　man
  for　jealousy。　　His　gun　was　empty；　yes；　but　it　might　be　said　that　I　had
  fired　it　after　his　death。　　And　as　for　the　graze　upon　my　cheekwhy；　a
  twig　might　have　caused　it。　　What　should　I　do；　then？　　Drive　him　before　me
  to　the　camp；　and　tell　this　tale？　　Even　then　it　would　be　but　my　word
  against　his。　　No；　he　had　me　in　a　forked　stick。　　I　must　let　him　go；　and
  trust　that　Heaven　would　avenge　his　crime；　since　I　could　not。　　Moreover；
  by　now　my　first　rage　was　cooling；　and　to　execute　a　man　thus
  〃Hernan　Pereira；〃　I　said；　〃you　are　a　liar　and　a　coward。　　You　tried　to
  butcher　me　because　Marie　loves　me　and　hates　you；　and　you　want　to　force
  her　to　marry　you。　　Yet　I　cannot　shoot　you　down　in　cold　blood　as　you
  deserve。　　I　leave　it　to　God　to　punish　you；　as；　soon　or　late；　He　will；
  here　or　hereafter；　you　who　thought　to　slaughter　me　and　trust　to　the
  hyenas　to　hide　your　crime；　as　they　would　have　done　before　morning。　　Get
  you　gone　before　I　change　my　mind；　and　be　swift。〃
  Without　another　word　he　turned　and　ran　swiftly　as　a　buck；　leaping　from
  side　to　side　as　he　ran；　to　disturb　my　aim　in　case　I　should　shoot。
  When　he　was　a　hundred　yards　away　or　more　I；　too；　turned　and　ran；　never
  feeling　safe　till　I　knew　there　was　a　mile　of　ground　between　us。
  It　was　past　ten　o'clock　that　night　when　I　got　back　to　the　camp；　where　I
  found　Hans　the　Hottentot　about　to　start　to　look　for　me；　with　two　of　the
  Zulus；　and　told　him　that　I　had　been　detained　by　accidents　to　the　wagon。
  The　Vrouw　Prinsloo　was　still　up　also；　waiting　to　hear　of　my　arrival。
  〃What　was　the　accident；　Allan？〃　she　asked。　　〃It　looks　as　though　there
  had　been　a　bullet　in　it；〃　and　she　pointed　to　the　bloody　smear　upon　my
  cheek。
  I　nodded。
  〃Pereira's？〃　she　asked　again。
  I　nodded　a　second　time。
  〃Did　you　kill　him？〃
  〃No；　I　let　him　go。　　It　would　have　been　said　that　I　murdered　him；〃　and　I
  told　her　what　had　happened。
  〃Ja；　Allan；〃　she　remarked　when　I　had　finished。　　〃I　think　you　were　wise；
  for　you　could　have　proved　nothing。　　But　oh！　for　what　fate；　I　wonder；　is
  God　Almighty　saving　up　that　stinkcat。　　Well；　I　will　go　and　tell　Marie
  that　you　are　back　safe；　for　her　father　won't　let　her　out　of　the　hut　so
  late；　but　nothing　more　unless　you　wish　it。〃
  〃No；　Tante；　I　think　nothing　more；　at　any　rate　at　present。〃
  Here　I　may　state；　however；　that　within　a　few　days　Marie　and　everyone
  else　in　the　camp　knew　the　story　in　detail；　except　perhaps　Marais；　to
  whom　no　one　spoke　of　his　nephew。　　Evidently　Vrouw　Prinsloo　had　found
  herself　unable　to　keep　secret　such　an　example　of　the　villainy　of　her
  aversion；　Pereira。　　So　she　told　her　daughter；　who　told　the　others
  quickly　enough；　though　I　gathered　that　some　of　them　set　down　what　had
  happened　to　accident。　　Bad　as　they　knew　Pereira　to　be；　they　could　not
  believe　that　he　was　guilty　of　so　black　a　crime。
  About　a　week　later　the　rest　of　us　started　from　Marais's　camp；　a　place
  that；　notwithstanding　the　sadness　of　many　of　its　associations；　I　confess
  I　left　with　some　regret。　　The　trek　before　us；　although　not　so　very　long；
  was　of　an　extremely　perilous　nature。　　We　had　to　pass　through　about　two
  hundred　miles　of　country　of　which　all　we　knew　was　that　its　inhabitants
  were　the　Amatonga　and　other　savage　tribes。　　Here　I　should　explain　that
  after　much　discussion　we　had　abandoned　the　idea　of　retracing　the　route
  followed　by　Marais　on　his　ill…fated　journey　towards　Delagoa。
  Had　we　taken　this　it　would　have　involved　our　crossing　the　terrible
  Lobombo　Mountains；　over　which　it　was　doubtful　whether　our　light　cattle
  could　drag　the　wagons。　　Moreover；　the　country　beyond　the　mountains　was
  said　to　be　very　bare　of　game　and　also　of　Kaffirs；　so　that　food　might　be
  lacking。　　On　the　other　hand；　if　we　kept　to　the　east　of　the　mountains　the
  veld　through　which　we　must　pass　was　thickly　populated；　which　meant　that
  in　all　probability　we　could　buy　grain。
  What　finally　decided　us　to　adopt　this　route；　however；　was　that　here　in
  these　warm；　low…lying　lands　there　would　be　grass　for　the　oxen。　　Indeed；
  now；　at　the　beginning　of　spring；　in　this　part　of　Africa　it　was　already
  pushing。　　Even　if　it　were　not；　the　beasts　could　live　upon　what　herbage
  remained　over　from　last　summer　and　on　the　leaves　of　trees；　neither　of
  which　in　this　winter　veld　ever　become　quite　lifeless；　whereas　on　the
  sere　and　fire…swept　plains　beyond　the　mountains　they　might　find　nothing
  at　all。　　So　we　determined　to　risk　the　savages　and　the　lions　which
  followed　the　game　into　these　hot　districts；　especially　as　it　was　not　yet
  the　fever　season　or　that　of　the　heavy　rains；　so　that　the　rivers　would　be
  fordable。
  I　do　not　propose　to　set　out　our　adventures　in　detail；　for　these　would　be
  too　long。　　Until　the　great　one　of　which　I　shall　have　to　tell　presently；
  they　were　of　an　annoying　rather　than　of　a　serious　nature。　　Travelling　as
  we　did；　between　the　mountains　and　the　sea；　we　could　not　well　lose　our
  way；　especially　as　my　Zulus　had　passed　through　that　country；　and　when
  their　knowledge　failed　us；　we　generally　managed　to　secure　the　services
  of　local　guides。　　The　roads；　however；　or　rather　the　game　tracks　and
  Kaffir　paths　which　we　followed；　were　terrible；　for　with　the　single
  exception　of　that　of　Pereira　for　part　of　the　distance；　no　wagon　had　ever
  gone　over　them　before。　　Indeed；　a　little　later　in　the　year　they　could
  not　have　been　travelled　at　all。　　Sometimes　we　stuck　in　bogs　out　of　which
  we　had　to　dig　the　wheels；　and　sometimes　in　the　rocky　bottoms　of　streams；
  while　once　we　were　obliged　literally　to　cut　our　way　through　a　belt　of
  dense　bush　from　which　it　took　us　eight　days　to　escape。
  Our　other　chief　trouble　came　from　the　lions；　whereof　there　were　great
  numbers　in　this　veld。　　The　prevalence　of　these　hungry　beasts　forced　us
  to　watch　our　cattle　very　closely　while　they　grazed；　and　at　night；
  wherever　it　was　possible；　to　protect　them　and　ourselves　in　〃bombast；〃　or
  fences　of　thorns；　within　which　we　lit　fires　to　scare　away　wild　beasts。
  Notwithstanding　these　precautions；　we　lost　several　of　the　oxen；　and
  ourselves　had　some　narrow　escapes。
  Thus；　one　night；　just　as　Marie　was　about　to　enter　the　wagon　where　the
  women　slept；　a　great　lion；　desperate　with　hunger；　sprang　over　the　fence。
  She　leapt　away　from　the　beast；　and　in　so　doing　caught　her　foot　and　fell
  down；　whereon　the　lion　came　for　her。　　In　another　few　seconds　she　would
  have　been　dead；　or　carried　off　living。
  But　as　it　chanced；　Vrouw　Prinsloo　was　close　at　hand。　　Seizing　a　flaming
  bough　from　the　fire；　that　intrepid　woman　ran　at　the　lion　and；　as　it
  opened　its　huge　mouth　to　roar　or　bite；　thrust　the　burning　end　of　the
  bough　into　its　throat。　　The　lion　closed　its　jaws　upon　it；　then　finding
  the　mouthful　not　to　its　taste；　departed　even　more　quickly　than　it　had
  come；　uttering　the　most　dreadful　noises；　and　leaving　Marie　quite　unhurt。
  Needless　to　say；　after　this　I　really　worshipped　the　Vrouw　Prinsloo；
  though　she；　good　soul；　thought　nothing　of　the　business；　which　in　those
  days　was　but　a　common　incident　of　travel。
  I　think　it　was　on　the　day　after　this　lion　episode　that　we　came　upon
  Pereira's　wagon；　or　rather　its　remains。　　Evidently　he　had　tried　to　trek
  along　a　steep；　rocky　bank　which　overhung　a　stream；　with　the　result　that
  the　wagon　had　fallen　into　the　stream…bed；　then　almost　dry；　and　been
  smashed　beyond　repair。
  The　Tonga　natives　of　the　neighbourhood；　who　had　burned　most　of　the
  woodwork　in　order　to　secure　the　precious　iron　bolts　and　fittings；
  informed　us　that　the　white　man　and　his　servants　who　were　with　the　wagon
  had　gone　forward　on　foot　some　ten　days　before；　driving　their　cattle　with
  them。　　Whether　this　story　were　true　or　not　we　had　no　means　of　finding
  out。　　It　was　quite　possible　that　Pereira　and　his　companions　had　been
  murdered；　though　as　we　found　the　Tongas　very　quiet　folk　if　well　treated
  and　given　the　usual　complimentary　presents　for　wayleaves；　this　did　not
  seem　probable。　　Indeed；　a　week　later　our　doubts　upon　this　point　were
  cleared　up　thus。
  We　had　reached　a　big　kraal　called　Fokoti；　on　the　Umkusi　River；　which
  appeared　to　be　almost　deserted。　　We　asked　an　old　woman　whom　we　met　where
  its　people　had　gone。　　She　answered　that　they　had　fled　towards　the
  borders　of　Swaziland；　fearing　an　attack　from　the　Zulus；　whose
  territories　began　beyond　this　Umkusi　River。　　It　seemed　that　a　few　days
  before　a　Zulu　impi　or　regiment　had　appeared　upon　the　banks　of　the　river；
  and　although　there　was　no　war　at　the　time　between　the　Zulus　and　the
  Tongas；　the　latter　had　thought　it　wise　to　put　themselves　out　of　reach　of
  those　terrible　spears。
  On　hearing　this　news　we　debated　whether　it　would　not　be　well　for　us　to
  follow　their　example　and；　trekking　westwards；　try　to　find　a　pass　in　the
  mountains。　　Upon　this　point　there　was　a　division　of　opinion　among　us。
  Marais；　who　was　a　fatalist；　wished　to　go　on；　saying　that