“Oh, Mynheer Marais!” I cried, “I am no ghost, I am Allan himself come to save you.”
Marais made no answer; he seemed bewildered. But one of the men cried out crazily:
“How can you save us, youngster, unless you are ready to be eaten? Don’t you see, we starve, we starve!”
“I have wagons and food,” I answered.
“Allemachte! Henri,” exclaimed the man, with a wild laugh, “do you hear what your English spook says? He says that he has wagons and food, food, food!”
Then Marais burst into tears and flung himself upon my breast, nearly knocking me down. I wrenched myself free of him and ran to Marie, who was lying face upwards on the ground. She seemed to hear my step, for her eyes opened and she struggled to a sitting posture.
“Is it really you, Allan, or do I dream?” she murmured.
“It is I, it is I,” I answered, lifting her to her feet, for she seemed to weigh no more than a child. Her head fell upon my shoulder, and she too began to weep.
Still holding her, I turned to the men and said:
“Why do you starve when there is game all about?” and I pointed to two fat elands strolling among the trees not more than a hundred and fifty yards away.