In the affray, Macora lost but six men, and was so gratified with the result that he was half inclined to pursue his enemies, in the hope of rendering the victory more substantial and complete. Knowing, however, that any advantage he might obtain would be but temporary, that several thousand men would soon be against him, and that in the end he would be compelled to retreat, he abandoned the idea of pursuing the discomfited enemy, and continued the crossing of the stream.
By sunset the whole tribe, with all their property, was safe on the opposite shore, where the warriors were placed in a strong position to repel any attempt on the part of the Matabili to effect a crossing. This being done, the retreat was continued. Macora had now no country. He had lost his home, by assisting his white friends. He was now a fugitive, with a vengeful foe in his rear, and without friends in front. His tribe was too small to command respect amongst those he might encounter upon his march. They would soon hear that he was pursued by the great chief Moselekatse, and there was a prospect of his people being hunted from place to place, and allowed no rest until robbed of all their cattle,—their only wealth,—and perhaps also of their lives.
While Willem and his companions were regretting the misfortunes they had been the means of bringing upon their protector, the chief’s greatest trouble appeared to be his disappointment in having failed to assist them.
The last things taken over the river were the bodies of the Makololo killed in the battle; and these were buried during the night.
On the contrary, the bodies of the Matabili were left where they had fallen, to be stripped of their flesh by the beasts of prey.
To give the hunters some idea of the character and customs of his enemies, Macora informed them that none of the Matabili ever buried their dead, not even their own kindred; but that sons will drag the bodies of their parents out from their village into the open plain, and there leave them to the tender mercies of the hyenas and vultures.
During the night, the roars, growls, and other evidences of brutish strife, heard across the river, convinced the Makololo guard left there, that by morning only the bones of their slain enemies would be found upon the field of battle. This was music to the ears of the Makololo, while the thought of their having defeated the renowned warriors of Moselekatse almost compensated them for the loss of their homes.