“I hear, Inkosazana,” answered the old induna, “and thy words split my heart.”
“Yet you will obey them, Tamboosa.”
“Yes, I will obey them who know what would befall me otherwise, and that it is the King’s will that none should dare to thwart thee, even if they could. Yet I think that very soon thou wilt return to thy children. Therefore, why not abide with us until to-morrow, when the waters will be low?”
“Tamboosa,” said Rachel, leaning forward and looking him in the eyes, “why did Ibubesi cross this river with soldiers but a few hours ago—Ibubesi, who fled from the Great Place when the moon was young that now is full? Look, there goes their spoor in the mud.”
“I know not,” he answered, looking down. “Inkosazana, to-morrow I will bring on the white ox to Ramah, and I will bring it alone.”
“So be it, Tamboosa, but if by chance you should not find me, ask where Ibubesi is, and if need be, seek for me with an impi, Tamboosa—for me and for this white man, Dario,” and again she bent forward and looked at him.
“I know not what thou meanest, Inkosazana,” he replied. “But of this be sure, that if I cannot find thee, then I will seek for thee, if need be with every spear in Zululand at my back.”
“Farewell, then, Tamboosa, and to the regiment farewell also. Say to the captains that it is my will that they should return to the Great Place, bearing my greetings to the King and those of the white lord, Dario. Look for me to-morrow at Ramah.”
Then, followed by Richard, she rode her horse past him into the lip of the water. As she went Tamboosa drew himself up and gave her the Bayète, the royal salute.
Although it was red with earth and flecked with foam and the roar of it was loud as it sped towards the sea, the river did not prove very difficult to ford. But once, indeed, were the horses swept off their feet and forced to swim, and then but for a few paces, after which they regained them, and plunged to the farther bank without accident.