“Faith! as to that, it wags much as usual. Skins are fetching fair prices, which is good news for you; but the Kathlamba bushmen are again becoming troublesome, and have lately carried off several head of cattle and horses from the settlers in that direction, which is a bad matter for them, while the new arrivals are grumbling and complaining as usual because they do not find the colony the Eldorado they expected, before they have had time to dig a spade into the ground or run a plough over it. For my part, I’m mighty glad to get out of their company and find myself in the wilderness.”

“So am I generally, after I have been a short time at home, I confess, though I have many friends in Maritzburg, with whom I am glad now and again to spend a few days,” replied Hendricks. “Had you, however, waited a little longer, I intended to propose that we should join forces and travel together. I thought it possible indeed that I might fall in with you, although as I did not expect to do so for several days to come I was in hopes that you would be induced to wait for me till I was ready to make a fresh start.”

“I would willingly have delayed my journey or waited for you, had we met closer to the Natal border,” answered Mr Maloney; “but as you know, it would not be prudent to remain longer than possible in this part of the country, and even now, as I shall spend some time trading and hunting to the south of the Drakensberg, you will probably overtake me before I get over the mountains.”

“It will be from no fault of mine if I do not,” said Hendricks. “I shall not be long in transacting my business at Maritzburg. However, we’ll talk of that presently; and now come along to my camp, for supper will be ready by the time we get there. By the bye, who is the lad with you? He looks somewhat tired from his journey.”

“He is my son Denis, a chip of the old block,” answered Mr Maloney. “To say the truth, however, he is just now somewhat sick, and I’d rather see him safe at Maritzburg than travelling with me into the wilderness. I have a favour to ask—it is that you will take charge of him and let him accompany you back to the town. I shall be mighty thankful to you if you will.”

“I will do as you wish,” said Hendricks, “though the lad, I suspect, would rather be hunting with you than kicking his heels in town with nothing to do.”

“He has been too well-trained to dispute my authority,” observed Mr Maloney. “I took him from the office of his uncle, my worthy brother-in-law, and he must go back for a few months until I return and am ready to make my next trip. By that time he’ll have more muscle and stamina, and be better able to stand the fatigue and hard life we hunters have to endure.”

“I’ll carry out your wishes with all my heart, and will look after the lad while I remain in the colony,” said Hendricks.

This conversation took place while the two leaders were riding on towards the camp, the lad following a short distance behind them.

Mr Hendricks briefly related to his companion the attack on the kraal, and the way in which the Zulu chief, his bride and the little boy had been rescued. “I intend to take the child with me, to leave him in charge of my good sister, Susannah Jansen,” he added. “We may some day discover to whom he belongs, but I will, in the meantime, act the part of a guardian to him.”

“It is a kind act of yours, but faith! I suppose I should be after doing the same sort of thing myself, though I find one son as much as I can manage. To be sure, all boys are not like Denis here, who boasts that he shot a springboc before he was ten years old, and that he has since killed a lion and a wild boar, his great ambition being now to bring an elephant to the ground.”

As his father was speaking, Denis, who had hitherto kept in the rear, hearing his name mentioned rode up.

“I have asked Mr Hendricks to take you back with him to Maritzburg, where you must wait with all the patience you can muster till my next trip,” said Mr Maloney. “You are not strong enough for the work before us; and if you knock up, the object of my expedition will be defeated, for I shall have to nurse you instead of being able to hunt or carry on trade.”

“I am much obliged to Mr Hendricks, but I don’t intend to knock up,” said Denis, not looking very well pleased at his father’s proposal. “I’m a little sick now, but I shall be all to rights in a day or two, and will be able to continue the journey.”

His looks, however, belied his assertion, though he was evidently doing his utmost to appear at his ease.

“Well, well, we’ll see about it, my boy; but for your own sake, as well as mine, I wish you to go back. I took you somewhat against my better judgment, in the hopes that the journey would strengthen you, instead of which you look worse than when we started.”

Denis still begged to be allowed to go on, until his father, losing patience, told him to say no more about the matter; that he should decide what was best to be done, and should act accordingly.

Hearing his father say this, Denis, not venturing to make any further appeal, again dropped behind.

“You see the boy has a will of his own,” observed Mr Maloney. “Though so tall and full of spirit, he is scarcely twelve years of age, and has in truth outgrown his strength. Since he lost his mother he has only had his uncle, Tom Lumly, to look after him when I have been away, and my good brother-in-law being much taken up with business has had little time to attend to him, so that he has been allowed to run rather wild. However, as he is now well able to make himself useful, Tom will give him work to do, and that will help to keep him out of harm’s way.”

“You are right, my friend; there’s nothing like plenty of work to help keep a person out of mischief; but, after all, he must have steadiness and good principles. They alone are to be depended on, and I hope your son has got those as ballast.”

The two gentlemen, followed by Denis, soon arrived at the camp. They found the promised repast spread out under the shade cast by the waggon as the sun sank towards the western hills.

The two ciders did ample justice to the venison steaks and other African luxuries placed before them; but though Denis managed to eat a little, he had to acknowledge that he was somewhat off his feed.

Umgolo, who ranked as a chief amongst his followers, and shared his master’s board, ate considerably more than the two white men together. Mangaleesu and Kalinda, who had been invited, at first hung back, but overcoming their bashfulness at length came and joined the party, and did ample justice to the food offered them. At last, little Unozingli, the white boy, or Lionel, as his protector determined to call him, crept out from the corner of the waggon, and, tempted by the smell of the viands, came and placed himself by the side of the Zulu chief, of whom he showed no fear.

“The child has been well treated, or he would keep away from our dark-skinned friend there,” observed Mr Maloney. “It’s mighty curious that he’s unable to utter a word of English; but he’ll find his tongue soon, when he has stowed away a little food.”

The little fellow, unlike the Zulus, ate moderately, and after taking a draught of cold water declared that he was satisfied. His wounded arm, which Hendricks had placed in a sling, did not appear to cause him much pain; at all events, he did not complain as most boys more delicately nurtured than he had been would have done.

The Zulu chief now addressed him in a kind tone. He at once answered, and was soon chattering away either with him or Kalinda, with whom he appeared to be a favourite. After this, as he had recovered his spirits, Hendricks called him to come and sit by his side, and speaking in the Zulu language, questioned him as to his early recollections, when his answers fully confirmed the account given by Mangaleesu.

“Do you