“Of meat we have plenty with us, Macumazahn, and therefore you will not hunger on the way.  Your horse and everything that is yours shall be brought after you; since were you mounted on that swift beast and minded to escape, how could we catch you with our feet, and did you please to shoot us with your rifle, how could we who have only spears, save ourselves from dying?  As for the Opener of Roads, his servants have told us that he means to sleep all to-day that he may talk with spirits in his dreams, and therefore it is useless for you to wait to bid him farewell.  Moreover, the orders of the king are that we should bring you to him at once.”

After this for a time there was silence, while I sat immovable revolving the situation, and the Zulus regarded me with a benignant interest.  Goza took his snuff-box from his ear, shook out some into the palm of his hand and, after offering it to me in vain, inhaled it himself.

“The orders of the king are (sneeze) that we should bring you to him alive if possible, and if not (sneeze) dead.  Choose which you will, Macumazahn.  Perhaps you may prefer to go to Ulundi dead, which would—­ah! how strong is this snuff, it makes me weep like a woman—­save you the trouble of walking.  But if you prefer that we should carry you, be so good, Macumazahn, first to write the words which will cause the grey blankets to be delivered to us, for we know well that even your bones would desire to keep your promise.  Is it not a proverb in the land from the time of the slaying of Bangu when you gave the cattle you had earned to Saduko’s wanderers?”

I listened and an idea occurred to me, as perhaps it had to Goza.

“I hear you, Goza,” I said, “and I will start for Ulundi on my feet—­to save you the trouble of carrying me.  But as the times are rough and accidents may always happen; as, too, I wish to make sure that you should get those blankets, and it may chance that I shall arrive there on my back, first I will write words which, if they are delivered to the witch-doctoress Nombe, will, sooner or later, turn into blankets.”

“Write the words quickly, Macumazahn, and they will be delivered,” said Goza.

So I drew out my pocket-book and wrote—­

“DEAR ANSCOMBE,—­

“There is treachery afoot and I think that Zikali is at the bottom of it.  I am being carried off to Cetewayo at Ulundi, by a party of armed Zulus who will not allow me to communicate with you, probably by Zikali’s orders.  You must do the best you can for Heda and yourself.  Escape to Natal if you are able.  Of course I will help if I get the chance, but if war is about to break out Cetewayo may kill me.  I think that you can trust Nombe; also that Zikali does not wish to work you any ill unless he is obliged, though I have no doubt that he has trapped us here for some dark purpose of his own.  Tell him through Nombe that if harm comes to you I will kill him if I live, and that if I die, I will settle the score with him afterwards.  God save and bless you both.  Keep up your courage and use your wits.