ril's
only, smote my ears. I half turned round. As I did so, an arrow grazed
the breast of my flannel shirt and drove deep into the left bosom of
Mapana. She uttered a little choking cry, and fell into my arms, a
dying woman. I could not let her go in her last agony, poor soul; yet I
knew there was deadly danger about me even as I supported her. Those
moments were like some vile and terrible dream. In a second or two
another arrow transfixed the fleshy part of my upper arm. Almost at the
same instant the report of a rifle rang out; there was a cry, and a
fall, and I knew Mapana was avenged--by April.

"Next came April's voice: `Baas, Baas, are you there? Come quickly.'

"I cried out: `All right; I'm coming;' and then looked into my poor lost
Mapana's face again. She had given a shiver or two, a last struggle,
and was now dead in my arms. I laid her quietly upon the earth and
kissed her brow. She had in her hands, poor thing, as she often had,
the old sword. Her grip upon the scabbard was so strong that I could
not easily loosen it. I drew the blade quickly from the sheath, and
with one last look at her as she lay, still wonderfully beautiful even
in death, I left Mapana.

"Meanwhile, the whole town was in a frightful uproar. Poor Mapana's
women were shrieking in her hut. Men's voices were yelling excitedly in
different directions. War-drums were beating already.

"I rushed to the _kotla_ entrance. April was there with the two horses,
saddled and bridled, and our rifles both loaded. First, I made him
break and draw the arrow from my arm. He pointed to the body of Seleni,
whom he had shot dead just as he fired his second arrow at me. We
jumped into our saddles and galloped straight for the river. It was our
only chance. By great good luck we reached the banks safely, swam our
horses across, and chanced the crocodiles. Once on the other side, we
cantered steadily, all through the night, due south. At early morning
we swam the river again, much against the grain, and then, after an
hour's rest in thick bush, steadily continued our flight, now more to
the eastward. To cut a long story short, by dint of nursing our nags,
we made good our escape, reached the wagons in safety, and trekked hard
till we had put a hundred and fifty miles between us and Umfanziland.

"Whether the Umfanzis followed us or not, I don't know. Quite possibly,
the death of Mapana, and the consequent turmoil, so bothered them