Death
in the Revelation of St John, as now and again lifting his fierce
set face he gazed out along the road, and pointed with his axe
towards some distant rise or house.

And so on, still on, without break or pause for hour after hour.

At last I felt that even the splendid animal that I rode was
beginning to give out. I looked at my watch; it was nearly midnight,
and we were considerably more than half way. On the top of a
rise was a little spring, which I remembered because I had slept
by it a few nights before, and here I motioned to Umslopogaas
to pull up, having determined to give the horses and ourselves
ten minutes to breathe in. He did so, and we dismounted -- that
is to say, Umslopogaas did, and then helped me off, for what
with fatigue, stiffness, and the pain of my wound, I could not
do so for myself; and then the gallant horses stood panting there,
resting first one leg and then another, while the sweat fell
drip, drip, from them, and the steam rose and hung in pale clouds
in the still night air.

Leaving Umslopogaas to hold the horses, I hobbled to the spring
and drank deep of its sweet waters. I had had nothing but a
single mouthful of wine since midday, when the battle began,
and I was parched up, though my fatigue was too great to allow
me to feel hungry. Then, having laved my fevered head and hands,
I returned, and the Zulu went and drank. Next we allowed the
horses to take a couple of mouthfuls each -- no more; and oh,
what a struggle we had to get the poor beasts away from the water!
There were yet two minutes, and I employed it in hobbling up
and down to try and relieve my stiffness, and in inspecting the
condition of the horses. My mare, gallant animal though she
was, was evidently much distressed; she hung her head, and her
eye looked sick and dull; but Daylight, Nyleptha's glorious horse
-- who, if he is served aright, should, like the steeds who saved
great Rameses in his need, feed for the rest of his days out
of a golden manger -- was still comparatively speaking fresh,
notwithstanding the fact that he had had by far the heavier weight
to carry. He was 'tucked up', indeed, and his legs were weary,
but his eye was bright and clear, and he held his shapely head up
and gazed out into the darkness round him in a way that seemed to
say that whoever failed _he_ was good for those five-and-forty miles
that yet lay between us and Milosis. Then Umslopogaas helped me
into the saddle and -