of
the now setting sun shot redly. And now a strange, eerie, fluttering
sort of life seemed to spring up within the gloom of those forest
shades, and Gerard could not repress an exclamation of astonishment as
he looked. For the place was alive with armed warriors, starting up
like ghosts, silently, noiselessly, out of nowhere. There seemed to be
no end to their number, and he could mark the surprise on each dark
face, could hear the low ejaculation and the quivering rattle of assegai
hafts as they became aware of his presence.

"Who--what are these?" he asked.

"You wanted to see the chief, _Umlungu_," was the reply. "Have
patience. You shall see him."

Gerard's first thought was that the talked of Anglo-Zulu war had
actually broken out, and this was a force proceeding against his
countrymen, and his heart sank. For if that were so, what chance was
there for Dawes, in the power of one of Cetywayo's savage vassals? The
king was not likely to risk offending one of his most influential chiefs
by demanding the release of a member of the race which was making war
upon his nation and dynasty. His meditations on this head were promptly
cut short, for his escort had emerged upon a small open glade overhung
by a high rock, whose summit was plumed by a dark line of
straight-stemmed euphorbia, and beneath this sat a group of men, in
whose aspect there was something which instinctively told him they were
men of the highest authority.

His escort made a sign for him to halt, while a couple of them went
forward to confer with these. Then he was told to advance.

"The chief--that is he!" said one of them.

The man indicated, a large finely built Zulu, was seated in the centre
of the group. As his gaze fell upon him Gerard stared; then he started
with astonishment--this time openly and undisguisedly--then stared
again.

"Sobuza!" he cried. And to the unbounded amazement of his escort, and
indeed of all beholders, he dropped his rifle and stepped forward to the
chief with outstretched hand.

The latter, indeed, was hardly less astonished than himself, but, with
the self-control of his race and rank, showed it but little. A slight
smile came over his face, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he shook
Gerard by the hand with a hearty grip.

"_Au_! Jeriji. I remember you," he said kindly.

There was that in the act, in the tone, which went straight to Gerard's
heart. Here, in this unknown wilderness, after his