“Yes,” answered the person addressed. “I believe I mentioned Zeerust, in the story I told you about Matamo. It is a long way there—three or four hundred miles, I should think. And it was, in the days when I was speaking about, a very dangerous journey. But I have no doubt it is much easier now. You mustn’t be cast down, my lad,” he continued kindly, observing how much George appeared to be distressed. “You are a stout young fellow, with a head on your shoulders, and a brave heart to boot. You will get there, I have no doubt, quite safe. Don’t you think so, Hardy?”
“I have no doubt of it,” answered the person addressed. “The only thing is that I don’t think Mr Rivers can attempt the journey just now.”
“Why not?” asked George. “I heard what you said about Mrs and Miss Baylen, and I quite agreed in it, but there will be no ladies in our party, and I can make my hand guard my head. At least, I have never failed to do so yet.”
“I don’t doubt it, Mr Rivers,” said Hardy. “But the danger to you would not be only from ruffians and robbers; there would be risk from wild animals to any one not acquainted with the country. There are not many lions or rhinoceroses or elephants in those parts, no doubt; you seldom or never meet with them about there in these days. But there are plenty of leopards and buffaloes, and, what is more dangerous, deadly serpents—puff-adders, ondaras, cobras, and the like. And you may catch marsh fever any day, if you sleep in the swamp neighbourhood. You would require one skilful guide at least, and it would be better if you had two or three. Now these are not to be had at present. You must wait till this war is over, which we may hope will not be a long one. Then perhaps Mr Baylen here will lend you Matamo and Utango. They would take you across safely enough.”
“I think that might be managed,” assented Farmer Baylen. “Hardy’s advice is good. You will do wisely to wait till this war is ended.”
“I have no doubt of his kindness, or of yours either, sir,” said George; “but I own that this delay, coming after so many months of expectation, does vex me. How long do you think it will be before the war is over, Mr Hardy?”
“That is hard to say,” answered Hardy. “It depends on how our troops are handled, and how quickly they may be able to force on a battle.”
“You have no doubt as to what will be the issue of the battle, when it does take place?” suggested Redgy.
“Well, no. Against disciplined English troops, unless there were great incapacity or great cowardice, the blind courage of these Zulus would avail little. But there can hardly be incapacity, for Colonels Wood and Pearson are undoubtedly able officers, and Lord Chelmsford has the name of being a good general—though that has not been so clearly proved. And such a thing as cowardice in English soldiers is unheard of. I am not so sure, however, about the Natal contingent. There is such a terror of Cetewayo among the natives, that, but for the presence and example of English troops, I do not feel certain that they could be got to face the Zulus. However, the chances are that a few weeks will see the Zulu king defeated and put down.”
“Well, I don’t think I can do better than take your advice,” said George. “I suppose Redgy and I had better go with your party to Rorke’s Drift, if you will allow us. Perhaps I may be of some use there.”