n Ralph, seizing the first weapon that came to
hand, which, as it chanced, was the broad assegai that Gaasha had
taken that day from the side of the dead Zulu, ran forward up the trail
followed by Jan and myself. Another two hundred yards and the path took
a turn which led to the entrance of the first scherm, the same that the
Zulus had captured by forcing the passage of the river. The gateway was
open now, and Ralph entered.

At first he could see no one, but presently he heard a voice saying:

"Will you not tell, for death is very near you? Drink, witch, tell and
drink."

"Fool," answered another voice, a grating, broken voice, "I say that
death is near to both of us, and since she is saved I die gladly, taking
my secret with me."

"Then witch, I will try steel," said the first voice.

Now Ralph looked over the rock from behind which the sound of voices
came and saw the body of a little woman tied to a stone by the edge of
the water, while over her leant a man, a white man, holding a knife in
one hand and in the other a gourd of water, which he now placed close
to her lips, and now withdrew from them. He knew that woman, it was
Sihamba. Just at this moment the man looked up and their eyes met, and
Ralph knew him also.

It was Piet Van Vooren.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE AVENGER OF BLOOD

For a moment the two men stood looking at each other, yes, the shedder
of blood and the avenger of blood stood quite still and silent, and
looked each other in the eyes, as though a spell had fallen upon them
striking them into stone. It was the voice of Sihamba that broke the
spell, and it issued from her parched throat with a sound like the sound
of a death-rattle.

"Ah! devil and torturer," it said, "did I not tell you that doom was at
hand? Welcome, Ralph Kenzie, husband of Swallow."

Then with a roar like that of a wounded beast, Ralph sprang forward, in
his hand the uplifted spear. For one instant Swart Piet hesitated, but
at the words of Sihamba a sudden terror had taken hold of him and he
dared not wait. Like a startled buck he turned and fled up the mountain,
but as he passed her he struck downwards with the knife he held,
stabbing Sihamba in the body.

Once also he looked round for help, but there was none, for during
the long torment of Sihamba all the black villains who served him had
slipped away, fearing lest others should secure their share of the
stolen cattle. Then he sped on up the pass and never did a ma