Compton tamed to the headmen.  “Where are the white chiefs?”

“We do not know, Inkose,” they said uneasily.

“Ye will take the orders of your chief yourselves then, for unless my brothers are restored in safety, I will not help you.”

“Maybe,” said a man in a whisper, “the wizards have taken them to themselves to learn wisdom.”

“Who are these wizards?” demanded Compton, sternly.

“Haw!  Inkose, how shall we know?” But their eyes went fearfully to the silent walls of the gorge.

“Who does know?”

“We know not, Inkose.  These things are not for us.”

“I know;” and Compton eyed them sternly.  “It is a woman who is chief in this place.  Say to her the words of the chief, and bring me her reply.”

They hesitated, muttering.

“Ye know the black one,” said Dick, quietly.  “He has asked for Ngonyama.  Let the woman produce Ngonyama or give her authority, lest the black one turn his anger on you.”

“The lion’s cub says well,” answered an old man.  “I will go.”

As he went off, Compton bade the indunas see to the defence, “For,” said he, “without the white men, you will have to fight hard for your kraal.”  The indunas laughed as they gave their orders, saying that all they wished for was a good fight.  Compton retired to his cave, and it was not long before the chiefs mother herself came up with her bodyguard of women, armed with bow and arrows.

“Ye sent for me, O great chief?” she cried, with a little mocking laugh.

“You have heard the chiefs message?”

“And this is my answer,” she replied, pointing to the women.  “We will meet the enemy.”

“And Ngonyama?”

“Ngonyama!  I have heard that name too often.  See, young one, there is not room in a kraal for two strong bulls.”

She nodded her head with a very hard look in her eyes.

Compton kept down his rising wrath at this ominous speech.

“Very well, mother,” he said quietly.  “You know best.  I will now get about my work, if ye order that I am left in silence.”

“I will see to that,” she answered; “and see to it that you do all I have asked, lest you also go to those wizards you spoke of to the men.”

She looked at him meaningly, and went on with her escort.

Compton watched them out of sight, then ran to his moulds.  Taking out the canes, he split them down in turn, disclosing a dozen candles, roughly moulded, and very greasy, but he hoped suitable for his venture.  One he fixed in the socket of the torch, the others he packed away carefully in an oilskin bag.  Then slinging on his carbine, bandolier, haversack, and making them all secure by strapping a belt over all, he crept through the opening at the far end of the cave, replaced the rock, and lit his candle.  After much spluttering and a great deal of smoke, the flame caught, and he started on his tour, breathing a fervent hope that it would lead him to his lost friends.