Well, I turned down that kaross and next instant stepped back amazed and, to tell the truth, somewhat disappointed, for there, with her mouth open, lay no wondrous and spiritual Mameena, but the stout, earthly and most prosaic—­Kaatje!

“Confound the woman!” thought I to myself.  “What is she doing here?”

Then I remembered how wrong it was to give way to a sense of romantic disappointment at such a time, though as a matter of fact it is always in a moment of crisis or of strained nerves that we are most open to the insidious advances of romance.  Also that there was no one on earth, or beyond it, whom I ought more greatly to have rejoiced to see.  I had left Kaatje with Anscombe and Heda; therefore Kaatje could tell me what had become of them.  And at this thought my heart sank—­why was she here in this most inappropriate meeting-place, alone?  Feeling that these were questions which must be answered at once, I prodded Kaatje in the ribs with my toe until, after a good deal of prodding, she awoke, sat up and yawned, revealing an excellent set of teeth in her cavernous, quarter-cast mouth.  Then perceiving a man she opened that mouth even wider, as I thought with the idea of screaming for help.  But here I was first with her, for before a sound could issue I had filled it full with the corner of the kaross, exclaiming in Dutch as I did so—­

“Idiot of a woman, do you not know the Heer Quatermain when you see him?”

“Oh!  Baas,” she answered, “I thought you were some wicked Zulu come to do me a mischief.”  Then she burst into tears and sobs which I could not stop for at least three minutes.

“Be quiet, you fat fool!” I cried exasperated, “and tell me, where are your mistress and the Heer Anscombe?”

“I don’t know, Baas, but I hope in heaven” (Kaatje was some kind of a Christian), she replied between her sobs.

“In heaven!  What do you mean?” I asked, horrified.

“I mean, Baas, that I hope they are in heaven, because when last I saw them they were both dead, and dead people must be either in heaven or hell, and heaven, they say, is better than hell.”

“Dead! Where did you see them dead?”

“In that Black Kloof, Baas, some days after you left us and went away.  The old baboon man who is called Zikali gave us leave through the witch-girl, Nombe, to go also.  So the Baas Anscombe set to work to inspan the horses, the Missie Heda helping him, while I packed the things.  When I had nearly finished Nombe came, smiling like a cat that has caught two mice, and beckoned to me to follow her.  I went and saw the cart inspanned with the four horses all looking as though they were asleep, for their heads hung down.  Then after she had stared at me for a long while Nombe led me past the horses into the shadow of the overhanging cliff.  There I saw my mistress and the Baas Anscombe lying side by side quite dead.”

“How do you know that they were dead?” I gasped.  “What had killed them?”