The match went out, and the stranger chief gave a sharp exclamation.
“What the devil is in the wind now?” demanded Webster impatiently.
“Treachery,” said Hume. “Was that the informer?” he asked in Zulu.
“Eweh,” said Sirayo fiercely; “my fingers itched to grasp him by the throat as he sat there like an evil toad through the afternoon. He is one of those who knew the secret, so says Umkomaas, the chief, and he must have given the word to the Zulus last night.”
“And now he will go straight to them, tell them where we are, and that half of us are wounded.”
“Eweh, he will do that.”
“For Heaven’s sake,” said Webster, “give me the bearings of this matter.”
Hume explained.
Webster laughed fiercely.
“We’ve missed port again, but I’m hanged if I weigh anchor now.”