Another attempt to fulfil their mission might be successful.
If so, Hendrik and Arend within a few weeks would be in the society of those of whom they were hourly thinking, and Hans would be making preparations for the long-contemplated visit to Europe.
The chief Macora had not shown the least inclination to abandon them on the failure of the first attempt. He had promised his assistance until the object they desired should be obtained; and, although domestic and political duties called him home, he stated his determination to stay with them.
His promise had been given to Willem, and everything was to be sacrificed before that could be broken.
For his devoted friendship the hunters were not ungrateful. They had learnt by this that without his assistance they could do nothing.
On the evening before the day intended for the second trial of the hopo, the giraffe hunters, in high spirits, were sharing with the chief their last bottle of Schiedam, as a substantial tribute of respect to the man who had made their wishes his own.
While indulging in pleasant anticipations of the morrow, their designs were suddenly upset by a communication from Sindo.
He had but just returned from a journey to the north,—to the place where he had found a home after being banished by Macora,—to the tribe which owned for its chief him whose horses had been shot by our hunters.
Sindo’s visit had been a stolen one, for the purpose of bringing away his wife and children. In this he had been successful; but he had also succeeded in bringing away something more,—information that the Zooloo chief, that our young hunters had offended, was still thirsting for revenge for his losses and disappointments.
He had seen Moselekatse, the tyrant-king of all that part of Africa, and had informed him that the Makololo chief, Macora,—his old enemy,—had returned to his former home, and had robbed a friend of the noble chief Moselekatse of valuable property,—of horses, guns, and slaves.