“I have been still too long—where are you?”
“Listen. The men know that hiding-place. I heard two come and retreat. They will return in greater numbers. Be not afraid for your people; they are safe with Umkomaas, my chief, under the ground here;” and she stamped with her feet.
“They are safe,” he muttered—“safe, you say? Why did they leave me?”
“You must stay there and tell the Amazulus that your people have fled.”
“And then?”
“They will kill you. Your strength has gone; it is well.”
“Good heavens!” he gasped in horror; “did they know that? No, no, no! It is a lie. They would not leave me. Jim!”
“Ssh!” she hissed, then swiftly climbed the wild vine and crouched flat on the wall.
“My God!” he cried, “my God! and is this the end, to be left in a hole, blind, helpless, and alone? And I lost my sight for them! would have lost my life to save them”—he paused—“ay,” he continued softly, “may do so yet.” There was the ring of metal against stones, and he drew in his head instinctively and grasped his rifle. “Good!” he muttered fiercely; “I hope there are many, so that even a blind man may strike home.”
He heard the soft sound of men brushing against the stones, heard their exclamations of fury as they kicked against the bodies of dead Zulus, and knew they had reached the inner chamber.