“A few minutes ago you were anxious to get away from here.”
“Look here, Frank, we are after a treasure. There’s no doubt we’ve been mad to push on; but if there is a treasure here we would be mad to give it up. What do you think yourself?”
“Leave me out of the question; let Laura decide.”
Sirayo’s deep voice interposed.
“The chief Umkomaas has a plan.”
“Wait awhile, Laura. What is this plan?”
“He says it would be no good to leave this place unless you take the backward path up the mountain, for on the plain you would be seen and attacked in the open. This is a strong place, and the only place that a few men can hold. The Zulus will attack in the morning after they have eaten. You will hold them off till the sun is high. To-night one of us will leave, cross the river, and gather the people to fall on the Zulus. He cannot go, for his hurts are deep; neither a white man, for the people would not follow him; neither the Gaika, for he is not of their race. It is I who will go. Soh! That is the plan, and it is good.”
Hume interpreted, and Webster banged his clenched hand into the open palm.
“Splendid!” he cried.
“Now, Laura, the decision remains with you.”