“Certainly,” said the doctor; and soon after the little party returned to their inn, the boys talking eagerly about their new acquaintance.
“But I say, father,” said Mark, “why, what a party we are going to be—five men, our four selves, four ponies, and all those oxen. Let’s see; that’s all, isn’t it?”
“No,” said Sir. James; “you forget the guide.”
“Black, isn’t he, uncle?”
“Yes; I suppose he’s a regular Kaffir, a sort of Zulu. What did the captain say he was, doctor?”
“An Illaka, he called him, I believe, something of the same sort of black, as the Matabeles. But you have forgotten two more.”
“Two more, sir?” said Dean. “No, we have counted them all.”
“What about the two black forelopers?”
“Why, what are they?” cried Mark.
“The two blacks who go in front of the foremost bullocks.”