In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The little zebra did not object to come up the hill, but when he reached the black spot where the house had stood, he stopped, gazing at it, and I thought trembled.

“It seems to me,” said Natty, after remaining silent for a minute or two, “that the zebra must have made his escape when the huts were on fire, and the other animals were set free. Oh! I do—I do hope that our friends escaped! I will not believe that they did not!”

I would not let Natty quit the zebra, but allowed him to sit down on a stone, holding the rein, while I examined the ruins in the neighbourhood. Though I searched carefully in every direction, not a trace of any sort could I discover. Everything they had must have been destroyed or carried off by them I trusted that the latter was the case.

“It is of no use, Natty,” I said at last. “Here they are not, and we must go in search of them.”

“What do you think, Andrew?” said Natty. “Perhaps they have gone to Kabomba, where the people know the captain and Timbo, and would, I am sure, receive them kindly.”

“I trust you are right, Natty,” I said; “and we will set off there immediately.”

Without loss of time we descended the hill. I had spent so much time, however, in examining the ruins, that we could get but a little distance before it grew dark. I made our camp as usual, and had only finished a hut sufficient to hold Natty before darkness overtook us. I made up a good fire, also, and hoped by tethering the zebra close to the hut, that no wild beast would injure him during the night. There was little fear of my fire going out, for my anxiety concerning our friends kept me awake. Over and over again I thought of all sorts of accidents which might have happened. We had but little food remaining, and all but my last charge of powder was expended. Still, my anxiety about our friends prevented me thinking of our own condition.

We travelled on all next day, and I began to fear that we must have passed the village. Just, however, as the sun was about to set, his rays lighted up the tops of some huts in the distance. We made towards them, though still doubtful whether they were those of Kabomba or not. Perhaps the inhabitants had themselves attacked and destroyed our friends. I had often heard of the treachery of the natives, and these might be as bad as others.

“Still, we must hazard everything for the sake of ascertaining the truth.” I said to Natty.

“Oh yes, yes,” he answered. “I do not fear them; and after all, Andrew, they can but kill us; and if they have killed our friends, were it not wrong, I should almost wish that they would kill us.”