At last he felt the ridge made by the eye, and climbing up, helped her to ascend, then asked her if she could go on to the cave; then, as she went on, he sat with his head bowed on his hands.
“What is it, friend?” asked Sirayo, as he, in his turn, reached the place.
“I am blind, chief, blind!” was the bitter reply.
“Yoh!” and, overcome by the terrible nature of the injury the Zulu remained dumb.
“Say nothing to her, for it will soon be morning, and she must stand in the eye and watch. Bind this handkerchief about my eyes.”
“I cannot—my arm is broken; but I will send Klaas with water. It is bad—this thing that has happened. It would have been better had you let me go out on the ledge.”
“And your arm is broken,” muttered Hume. “We owe our lives to her, and the mountain is slipping away.”
Sirayo caught him, and laid him in a corner of the rock, then went down rapidly to the cave, where he called to Klaas.
“Where is he?” asked Laura.
“He is tired; moreover, he says the morning is near at hand, when you will stand in the place above.”