“Possible! Oh, Galbrth, do you think I could have ever lived without you? You went—oh, cruel, cruel!—but I followed—pardon me.”
“What! followed, Zenuta? Have you braved the dangers of the bush alone, and for my sake?” I said, in much astonishment and emotion.
“Dangers!” she repeated, smiling, “I did not think of them. What were they to me when I knew by surmounting them I should again see you; and if I did not,” she added seriously, “I thought we might meet again there,”—pointing upward—“as you have so often told me we should.”
The tears started to my eyes at the affection of this poor girl, and, taking her hand, I said, “Heaven bless you, Zenuta! I shall never be able to repay you—never, indeed, for it must be to you that I owe my life.”
“Yes, yes! to me, Galbrth, to me!” she cried, a bright joy radiating her features, as she clapped her hands with delight; “you owe your life to me, poor Zenuta! Oh, I am glad—so glad!”
“But tell me how, dear Zenuta. I really thought my hour had at last come.”
As she was about to commence her story we were interrupted by the return of Umatula and Jack, whose surprise at the appearance of Zenuta was equally as great as mine had been. The Kaffir, I fancied, regarded her angrily, and I secretly resolved that, if he expressed his disapproval in words, the affectionate girl should find a powerful protector in me; but as he remained quiet, and the first vexed expression died out of his features, I explained to them the danger I had run, and learned from Umatula that it was no uncommon thing for the honey guide to lead persons occasionally to the lair of some fierce beast of the forest instead of to the bees’ treasure, which unpleasant propensity makes the natives very cautious when they follow the bird.
“But how, Zenuta,” I added, turning again to her, “were you able so soon to follow us and thus become my protector, my preserver?”
“At the same time that you left the kraal,” she said, “it seems that a party of warriors was sent to bring us, the women, and cattle to their new home. My people travel faster than white men, and a few hours after I heard—oh, Galbrth! I heard that you had gone—gone for ever to the white settlement. I threw myself in agony on the ground; but I could not weep. My head felt on fire, and at last, starting up, I resolved to follow you. Creeping, in the confusion, out of the kraal, I fled to the bush. I did not care if I died there: I only felt I could no longer live with my people when you were away.”