The stranger turned as he spoke, revealing a stained bandage beneath his Norfolk-coat at the neck.
"A spent assegai," he explained; "it caught me just in the fleshy bit between shoulder and neck; it was shied from an ambush as I galloped by; a few more inches one way and I should have been done for. That's the party which is heading in this direction."
"How far off was that?" asked Gerston, while his wife ran for warm water and a clean bandage.
"Ten miles," said the other, "more or less. You'd better begin fixing up your zareba at once. What's the nearest farm to yours, going east?"
"There isn't one nearer than Thomson's at the Black Kopje, twenty-five miles away; several places are bought up in between, but the owners haven't settled in yet."
"So much the better for them. Twenty-five miles? Lord! I don't know how I'm going to do it. You'd swop a horse for mine, no doubt; but in plain truth I'm fagged out, and this wound is burning like fire and fury just now!"
"Let me go instead of him, father!" suddenly exclaimed young Bruce. "I know the way, every inch of it; I could ride Donald over in an hour and a half."
Gerston looked pleased, but shook his head—
"No, no, my boy," he said, "that wouldn't do; you're not man enough yet, though I'm glad to see you've the spirit to offer. I shall ride across myself, for it's clear our poor friend here can go no farther to-day. Be getting Donald ready for me, Bruce lad, while I start with the defences."
But neither his wife nor Kittie would hear of allowing Gerston to leave them and go out upon this dangerous enterprise. He must stay, whoever else went, and look after his property and the lives of those who were dear to him.