The reply to Mr. Kippilaw's telegram to South Africa gave him, and even his noble client, cause for some anxiety.
It was dated from Headquarters, Ulundi, on the last day of August, and stated that Lieutenant MacIan 'was down with fever, and not expected to live.'
So—if he died—the title of Fettercairn, being a Scottish one, would go to Finella, and the heir male of whosoever she married.
CHAPTER XIV.
IN THE NGOME FOREST.
We now approach the last scenes of Florian's foreign service.
By the 13th of August the cordon of European troops and Native lines drawn round the district in which the fugitive King of the Zulus lurked had been drawn closer, and it was now distinctly known at headquarters in Ulundi that he had sought refuge in the Forest of Ngome, a wild, most savage and untrodden district between two rivers (with long and grotesque names), tributaries of the Black Umvolosi, and overshadowed by a mountain chain called the Ngome.
Various parties detailed for the pursuit, search, and capture failed, till, on the 26th August, the Chief of the Staff received information indicating where Cetewayo was certain to be found, and Major Marter, of the King's Dragoon Guards, was ordered to proceed next day in that direction with a squadron of his own regiment, a company of the Native Contingent, Lonsdale's Horse, and a few Mounted Infantry, led by Florian and another officer. The former was already suffering from fever caught by exposure to the night dews when scouting, and felt so weak and giddy that at times he could barely keep in his saddle; but, full of youthful ardour and zeal, fired by the promotion and praises he had won, he was anxious only, if life were spared him, to see the closing act of the great campaign in South Africa.
The early morning of the 27th saw the Horse depart, the King's Dragoon Guards leading the way, after the Mounted Infantry scouts; and picturesque they looked in their bright scarlet tunics and white helmets, with accoutrements glittering as they rode in Indian file through the scenery of the tropical forest, and then for a time debouched upon open ground.
Nodding in his saddle, Florian felt spiritless and sick at heart, wishing intensely that the last act was over.