“No, Rachel, somehow I think it best that you should go, not only for Noie’s sake, but for your own. If your father would leave here to-day or to-morrow, as you suggested, it might be otherwise, but he won’t do that, so it is no use talking of it. Let us hope for the best.”
“As you wish, mother.”
“Now, dear, kiss me and go. I hear your father calling you; and, Rachel, if we should not meet again in this world, I know you won’t forget me, or that there is another where we shall. I did not want to frighten you with my fancies, which come from my not being well. Goodbye, my love, good-bye. God be with you, and make you happy, always—always.”
Then Rachel kissed her in silence, for she could not trust herself to speak, and turning, left the room whence her mother watched her go, also in silence. In another minute she was mounted, and, accompanied by her father, riding on the road along which Tamboosa had led the white ox.
Presently they overtook him, whereon he stopped, and looking at Mr. Dove, said:
“Inkosazana, the King’s orders are that none should accompany you into Zululand.”
“Be silent,” answered Rachel, proudly. “He rides with me as far as the river bank.”
Then they went on, and Rachel was relieved to find that whatever might have been her mother’s mood, that of her father was fairly cheerful. Indeed, his mind was so occupied with the details and object of her journey that he quite forgot its dangers.
Two hours’ steady riding brought them to the ford of the Tugela river, across which lay Zululand. On the hills beyond it they could see a number of Kaffirs watching, who on catching sight of Rachel, ran down to the river and entered it, shouting and beating the water with their sticks, as she guessed, to scare away any crocodiles that might be lurking there.
Now that the moment of separation had come, Mr. Dove grew loth to part with his daughter, and again suggested to Tamboosa that he should accompany her to Dingaan’s Great Place.