So horrible was the sight that the driver, Footsack, leapt from
the cart, uttering a kind of low howl, ran to Rodd's horse,
scrambled into the saddle and galloped off, striking it with his
fist, where to I do not know. Anscombe put his hand before his
eyes, Heda sank down on the seat in a heap, and the coloured
woman, Kaatje, beat her breast and said something in Dutch about
being accursed or bewitched. Luckily I kept my wits and went to
the horses' heads, fearing lest they should start and drag the
trap into the pool. "Wake up," I said. "That fellow has only
got what he deserved, and you were quite right to shoot him."

"I am glad you think so," answered Anscombe absently. "It was so
like murder. Don't you remember I told you I should kill a man
in this place and about a woman?"

"I remember nothing," I answered boldly, "except that if we stop
here much longer we shall have those Basutos on us. That brute
was whistling to them and holding the horses till they came to
kill us. Pull yourself together, take the reins and follow me."

He obeyed, being a skilful whip enough who, as he informed me
afterwards, had been accustomed to drive a four-in-hand at home.
Mounting my horse, which stood by, I guided the cart out of the
wood and down the slope beyond, till at length we came to our old
outspan where I proposed to turn on to the wagon track which ran
to Pilgrim's Rest. I say proposed, for when I looked up it I
perceived about five hundred yards away a number of armed Basutos
running towards us, the red light of the sunset shining on their
spears. Evidently the scout or spy to whom Rodd whistled, had
called them out of their ambush which they had set for us on the
Pilgrim's Rest road in order that they might catch us if we tried
to escape that way.

Now there was only one thing to be done. At this spot a native
track ran across the little stream and up a steepish slope
beyond. On the first occasion of our outspanning here I had the
curiosity to mount this slope, reflecting as I did so that
although rough it would be quite practicable for a wagon. At the
top of it I found a wide flat plain, almost high-veld, for the
bushes were very few, across which the track ran on. On
subsequent inquiry I discovered that it was one used by the
Swazis and other natives when they made their raids upon the
Basutos, or when bodies of them went to work in the mines.

"Follow me," I shouted and crossed the stream which was