“So here you are again,” he said cheerfully.
“Yes,” I answered, “and it is strange to meet you at the same spot. Were you expecting us?”
“Not more than I expect many things,” he replied with a shrewd glance at me, adding, “I always rise with the sun, and thinking that I heard a shot fired in the distance, came to see what was happening. The Basutos attacked you at daybreak, did they not?”
“They did, but how did you know that, Mr. Marnham?”
“Your servants told me. I met them running to the house looking very frightened. You are wounded, Mr. Anscombe?”
“Yes, a couple of days ago on the border of Sekukuni’s country where the natives tried to murder us.”
“Ah!” he replied without surprise. “I warned you the trip was dangerous, did I not? Well, come on home where my partner, Rodd, who luckily has had medical experience, will attend to you. Mr. Quatermain can tell me the story as we go.”
So we went on up the long slope, I relating our adventures, to which Mr. Marnham listened without comment.
“I expect that the Kaffirs will have looted the wagon and be on the way home with your oxen by now,” he said when I had finished.
“Are you not afraid that they will follow us here?” I asked.