"In the valley itself; and our men are scattered here and there on the ridges at the mercy of these wolves, though they fight hard. Ngonyama, tell me!"
"There is only one thing to do," said Venning, joining in.
"I listen," she cried, leaning forward. "Quick, wise one. You who played with the little ones at the huts, you who talk to the ants, tell me."
"The one thing to do is to let the water in."
"Ye mock me," she cried fiercely.
"Let in the water, and the canoes will be dashed to pieces; the women and the little ones saved." "But how can this be done?"
"You know this place and the secrets of it. Those holes behind you that look out on the valley were made by hands. Is there no place where the wall is thin?"
The woman lifted up her hands and shouted a cry of exultation, then she ran swiftly, and they saw her presently standing above the V- shaped wedge in the wall, a deep scar in the cliff made by the fall of a portion of the rock. With wonderful agility she climbed down to the apex and set to work on the face of the rock with a kind of maniacal fury. When she climbed out to the top they saw she had drawn a square, with a mark at each corner plainly visible.
"Ngonyama, for the sake of the little ones and the women, for your own sakes, if ye wish to live, send a bullet to each mark."
"By Jove!" said Venning, "that's a good notion. The rock must be thin there, and the force of the bullet should crack it."