the _schimmel_ by the bridle allowed
him to eat a little grass while he waited for the moon to rise. Oh!
never was the moon so long in coming, but at length it came, and with
it clear, soft light. He looked, and there, not half a mile away, just
showing in the shadows, was the saw-edged rock he sought.

"There is little time to lose," Ralph muttered to himself as the
stallion swept across the plain towards the rock. "In three hours it
will be dawn, and these mountains are sheer and wide."

Now he was in the pass and galloping up its rocky steeps as fast as the
horse dare travel and not fall. Up he went through the moonlit silence
that was broken only by the distant roaring of lions; up for one hour
and for two. Now he was at the crest of the mountains, and beneath
him, miles away, lay the dim veldt, and there--yes, there in the far
distance--the moonbeams sparkled upon a white-topped koppie and the
waters of a river that washed its base. Miles and miles away, and but
one hour left to cover them. One short hour, and if it was not enough
then death by the Zulu assegai would be the portion of Suzanne and of
those among whom she sheltered. For a moment Ralph breathed the horse,
then he shook the reins, and with a snort of pride the _schimmel_
started upon his last gallop.

Ah! what a ride was that. Had ever man the like of it? Rushing down
an untrodden mountain way swifter than others dare travel on a plain,
bounding from rock to rock like a buck, dashing through streams, and
leaping dim gullies at a stride. On, on went the _schimmel_, with never
a slip and never a stumble. On, swifter than a sassaby and surer-footed
than a fox; now the worst of the road was passed, and a long, smooth
slope, almost free from stones, led them to the grassy plain beneath.
The _schimmel_ swept down it at a fearful pace and reached the level
land in safety, but the strain of that mad gallop told its tale upon
him, for he was drenched with sweat, his eye was red with blood, and the
breath whistled in his throat.

Ralph raised himself in his stirrups and scanned the sky, which began to
brighten with the coming dawn.

"There is time," he muttered, "for the koppie is near, and the Zulus
will not attack till they can see the white moons upon their finger
nails."

Now he was speeding up a long rise, for here the land lies in waves
like a frozen sea. He topped it, and in an instant--almost before he saw
them--he had swept through a Zulu impi m