w well, the hunters
with him would feast upon meat until they could scarcely stir, and that
would be his opportunity. Nahoon, however, might not succumb to this
temptation; therefore he must trust to luck to be rid of him. If it came
to the worst, he could put a bullet through him, which he considered
he would be justified in doing, seeing that in reality the man was his
jailor. Should this necessity arise, he felt indeed that he could face
it without undue compunction, for in truth he disliked Nahoon; at times
he even hated him. Their natures were antagonistic, and he knew that the
great Zulu distrusted and looked down upon him, and to be looked down
upon by a savage "nigger" was more than his pride could stomach.

At the first break of dawn Hadden rose and roused his escort, who were
still stretched in sleep around the dying fire, each man wrapped in his
kaross or blanket. Nahoon stood up and shook himself, looking gigantic
in the shadows of the morning.

"What is your will, _Umlungu_ (white man), that you are up before the
sun?"

"My will, _Muntumpofu_ (yellow man), is to hunt buffalo," answered
Hadden coolly. It irritated him that this savage should give him no
title of any sort.

"Your pardon," said the Zulu reading his thoughts, "but I cannot call
you _Inkoos_ because you are not my chief, or any man's; still if the
title 'white man' offends you, we will give you a name."

"As you wish," answered Hadden briefly.

Accordingly they gave him a name, _Inhlizin-mgama_, by which he was
known among them thereafter, but Hadden was not best pleased when he
found that the meaning of those soft-sounding syllables was "Black
Heart." That was how the _inyanga_ had addressed him--only she used
different words.

An hour later, and they were in the swampy bush country that lay behind
the encampment searching for their game. Within a very little while
Nahoon held up his hand, then pointed to the ground. Hadden looked;
there, pressed deep in the marshy soil, and to all appearance not ten
minutes old, was the spoor of a small herd of buffalo.

"I knew that we should find game to-day," whispered Nahoon, "because the
Bee said so."

"Curse the Bee," answered Hadden below his breath. "Come on."

For a quarter of an hour or more they followed the spoor through thick
reeds, till suddenly Nahoon whistled very softly and touched Hadden's
arm. He looked up, and there, about two hundred yards away, feeding
on some higher ground a