With the alertness and methodical precision of a crack British regiment, the circle of warriors dissolved, and the men reformed into a close column. Up doubled a party of men with the two litters in which Colin and Tiny had been carried through the forest.
With his own hands the Chief unknotted the bonds that secured the lads' arms. Then he signed to them to retake possession of their scanty belongings except their rifles. The amulet was retained by the Chief, who motioned to the two chums to seat themselves in the litters.
"This is going to be a bit of a picnic, after all, Tiny, old son," remarked Colin.
"Hope so," replied Desmond. "Only isn't it a bit too early to talk about picnics and joy rides? That chap seems jolly pleased to be able to bag your amulet. Now he's got that, what does he want us for? That's what I want to know."
At a sign from the Chief, Colin and Tiny climbed into the litters. Their previous acquaintance with this mode of conveyance had been in a state of being bound hand and foot. Now their limbs were freed and they were able to sit up and look about them, while an awning had been provided to shelter them from the glare of the sun.
The chums were in the middle of a long column of men marching four abreast, the warriors keeping step but taking much longer paces than is the case with European troops. They moved almost silently, their bare feet treading lightly upon the ground. Except when a command was given, not a word was spoken.
Following the base of the line of cliffs the Makoh'lenga marched for nearly two miles until they arrived at a shallow stream running through a deep gorge. Here the warriors turned sharp to the left, in file, and began ascending the stream, which varied from ankle to knee-deep.
Although the rivulet was not less than ten feet in width the walls of the gorge, which averaged two hundred feet in height, almost met at the top, so that the inclosed space was deep in gloom. It was a weird experience to the two chums, as they watched the symmetrical lines of dark figures making their way up-stream.
At length, above the swish of the water as hundreds of feet forced their way against the steady current, came the dull roar of a waterfall. Louder and louder grew the sound, until Colin could see an apparently unbroken sheet of water falling from a height of quite a hundred and fifty feet and breaking into a cloud of foam as it came in contact with the bed of the gorge.
Into this waterfall the Makoh'lenga plunged unhesitatingly. They, evidently, did not share the dislike, amounting almost to fear, of Zulu tribes for running water, yet it puzzled Colin to know where the men went. They seemed to be swallowed up in the clouds of spray as file after file disappeared. Beyond the waterfall was solid rock, and yet the column held on without a check.