"No," I said, "he lives, and will live."
"Then all is well, Macumazahn." (A pause.) "It was a spy in the bush, not a buck. He overheard our talk. The king's slayers came. Gita held the door of the hut while I took the child, cut a hole through the straw with my assegai, and crept out at the back. She was full of spears before she died, but I got away with the boy. Till your Kaffirs found me I lay hid in the bush, hoping to escape to Natal. Then I ran for the river, and saw you on the further bank. I might have got away, but that child is heavy." (A pause.) "Give him food, Macumazahn, he must be hungry," (A pause.) "Farewell. That was a good saying of yours—the swift runner is outrun at last. Ah! yet I did not run in vain." (Another pause, the last.) Then he lifted himself upon one arm and with the other saluted, first the boy Sinala and next me, muttering, "Remember your promise, Macumazahn."
* * * * * * *
"That is how Magepa the Buck died. I never saw any one carrying weight who could run quite so well as he," and Quatermain turned his head away as though the memory of this incident affected him somewhat.
"What became of the child Sinala?" I asked presently.
"Oh, I sent him to an institution in Natal, and afterwards was able to get some of his property back for him. I believe that he is being trained as an interpreter."
FOOTNOTE:
[2] For this story see the book named "Child of Storm," by H. Rider Haggard.