"When they left the royal kraal at Zombode many of the warriors made menacing gestures toward them, and they came back glad to escape with their lives. That is Labotsibeni's answer to the mother of the rightful king of Swaziland and the royal widow of King Buno!"
She was very indignant. After a little conversation, during which we complimented her, as was proper, we withdrew. I noticed that there was a gin-bottle in the corner of the royal hut and realized that Tzaneen was not different from other kaffir royalty.
Sugden was very low when we returned. He was the finest sort of patient, however, for the worse became his physical condition, the more determined he was that he would live. He kept murmuring, "Don't give up the ship!" but I could see that he would hardly last until morning.
I called Crespinell and Rossman into my tent and explained how sick the doctor was, telling them that I feared he did not have a chance. His cheery way of looking at things had fooled them, and they were shocked when I told them that I did not expect we would have him with us much longer.
"I've done everything for him that I can," I explained, "but I can't get his fever down or stop his dysentery. He is so weak now that it is only a question of hours before he leaves Swaziland for good.
"There is something I want you fellows to do, however. I shall remain with him all night and will call you if he wants to make a will or say anything. We've got to bury him like a white man, and I want you to knock a coffin together. Take some of the boards from the packing-cases and the big wagon and fix a decent sort of box. Don't do any hammering where he might hear you, because he's keyed up and might suspect what you were doing."
A few minutes later I saw them sneaking off among the trees, with several of the black boys loaded down with boards. We were all blue over Sugden's illness and the thought that he was dying cast a gloom over the party that nothing could lift.
That was a bad night. Sugden seemed to get weaker and weaker, and soon I was keeping him alive with brandy. Tuys and I sat beside him in turn, and the old Boer was as distressed as the rest of us.
"He is such a fighting devil," he said in a whisper, when I came to relieve him shortly before dawn. "A few moments ago he opened his eyes and croaked that he was going back to New York when this expedition was over and have 'one hell of a time.' I told him that I'd go with him, and he began to tell me what we'd do. Right in the middle of a sentence he fainted through weakness. When I brought him to with brandy, he opened his eyes and smiled at me!"
Dawn found Sugden still hanging on. I marveled at the vitality of the man. His body was wasted to a mere shell, but his courage burned bright and undiminished. Shortly after sun-up I realized that he was likely to live another day, but that seemed the most we could hope for.