He stopped short and dropped into concealment behind a boulder. There, among the trees, immediately before the cave, stood the erect, rigid figure of Nomandewu—the head bent forward and the open hands pendent. But how still she was; she did not seem even to breathe. Dumani stared; he felt no fear, yet he recognised that it would be only a measure of common prudence to wait until he had recovered his wind before advancing to the attack. A rustle of leaves whispered around him; the upper boughs of the trees began gently to sway; the figure turned slowly until it faced him. Then Dumani sprang to his feet and rushed forward, for he saw that Nomandewu was dead. She was hanging from a bough by a rope made out of the shreds of a torn blanket.
Dumani climbed to the mouth of the cave. As he surmounted the level of the floor he closed his eyes and bent his head for an instant, dreading that which he might next see. Then he lifted his head and looked. Little Lucy, fast asleep and apparently quite unhurt, was before him, tied securely within the spreading arms of the white-ironwood log.
Dumani lay upon the ground for a space, his pulses faint from reaction, his breath coming in husky sobs. He arose, climbed out of the cave, untied the swaying horror from the tree and flung it out of sight into a deep cleft. Then he returned and released the child. She was dazed with fright, but she soon recovered and clung, sobbing, to her rescuer. Just in front of the log was a small mound of earth. This, it was afterwards found, was the grave of Nolala.
Dumani carried Lucy homewards through the forest and restored her to her distracted parents. Soon a gun-shot—the signal that the child had been found—rang through the valley, and the searchers hurried back to the homestead.
Dumani, after an enormous meal of meat, lay down in his hut and slept for nearly forty-eight hours. Then he quietly resumed his herding of cattle. He still kept his own counsel; in fact it was not until after his marriage, several years subsequently, that he revealed how he came to save little Lucy from a horrible death. He married an extremely well-favoured damsel who dwelt at the location upon the adjoining farm, and his master contributed liberally towards the dowry. His wife drew the story from him bit by bit. She was too proud of her husband’s achievement to keep it to herself.