"They're true, all the same," I answered, with a laugh. "For that
reason we make ourselves comfortable when we can."

"By Jove, Glanton, that waterhole of yours is dashed cold," said
Falkner, who came up, looking a fresh and healthy specimen of young
England after his bath.

"Yes, but go and get dressed, Falkner," said his aunt. "We're just
going to breakfast."

The table was laid as before, under the waggon sail, upon which the not
long risen sun was fast drying up the heavy dew. Away below, over the
Zulu country, a thick white mist, in billowy masses of cloud, was
rolling back, revealing distant rock and dark forest belt shimmering in
sheeny patches of dew beneath the unbroken blue. All were in high
spirits, especially Falkner, who had soon joined us, over the prospect
of the coming hunt. With his faults, such as they were, he had the
redeeming virtue in my eyes of being a keen sportsman.

We had done breakfast, and I was pointing out to Miss Sewin various
points of interest in the landscape near and far, when we descried a
tall figure coming towards us.

"Who is this?" she said, as the newcomer saluted. He was a fine,
straight, warrior-like young fellow, and carried a small shield and a
bundle of hunting assegais which he deposited on the ground.

"Ivuzamanzi, the son of Tyingoza--Ah, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed
Miss Sewin," after a few words with him. "The chief sends word that he
will not be able to come this morning, but his son will direct the
hunting party instead. He will come up this evening if he can."

"Well, I suppose I ought to be more anxious than ever to see him," she
said, "as he is so unapproachable."

"Well, don't prepare for any display of royalty," I warned. "Tyingoza
is just like any other highbred Zulu, in fact you wouldn't know him from
another unless you were told."

Soon groups of natives began to straggle up, not in regular formation
this time. They had discarded their adornments and carried only small
shields, knobsticks and light, casting assegais. At their heels trotted
a number of dogs, from the slinking mongrel, to the well-bred tawny or
brindled greyhound; and indeed the snarling and fighting that presently
arose among these, soon took up enough of their owners' time to keep
them apart. The process was simple by the way. If two or more dogs got
fighting their owners simply whacked them with kerries until they
desisted.

"Ah--ah, Ivuzamanzi," I went on, ch