Ghamba said that about two hours’ walk would now bring them to Umhlonhlo’s cave, so they started off briskly at dusk.  Their course now led for some distance along a mountain ledge covered with wild bamboo, through which the pathway wound.  Then they crossed a steep saddle between two enormous peaks, after which they plunged into another deep and winding gorge.  This they followed until they reached a part where it was so narrow that the sides seemed almost to touch over their heads.  Beyond the cliffs fell apart, and then apparently curved toward each other again, thus forming an immense amphitheatre.  At the entrance to this Ghamba stopped, and said in a whisper that they were now close to the cave.

They now held a consultation, in terms of which it was decided that Ghamba should go forward and reconnoitre.  So Whitson and Langley sat down close together and waited, conversing in low tones.

Whitson felt very uneasy, but Langley tried to argue him out of his fears.  The more Whitson saw of Ghamba, the more he disliked and distrusted him and his teeth.  The instinct which detects danger in the absence of any apparent evidence of its existence is a faculty developed in some men by an adventurous life.  This faculty Whitson possessed in a high degree.

“Did you keep awake all the time I slept this afternoon?” he asked.

Langley feared Whitson and felt inclined to lie, but something impelled him, almost against his will, to speak the truth now.

“No,” he replied; “I slept for a few minutes.”

Whitson drew his revolver and opened the breech.

“By God!” he said, “the cartridges are gone!”

Langley took his weapon out of the leather case and opened it.  He found the cartridges were there right enough.

“Have you any spare cartridges?” asked Whitson.

Whitson had already loaded his revolver with the five cartridges which he had removed in the afternoon, but he again took these out and replaced them in his waistcoat pocket, and then he reloaded with some which Langley passed over to him with a trembling hand.

“Look here,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “we are in a trap of some kind.  When that old scoundrel comes back, do not let him know that we have found out anything.  We will walk on with him for a short distance, at all events, and then be guided by circumstances.  Stand by when you see me collar him, and slip a sack over his head.”

“Can we not go back now?” said Langley.

“Certainly not; we would never find our way at night.  I guess we must see this circus out.  If you have to shoot, aim low.”

In a few minutes Ghamba returned.

“Come on,” he said.  “He is sitting at the fire in front of the cave.  I have just seen him.”

“Where is the cave?” asked Whitson.  “Is it far from here?”

“We will reach it very soon; you can see the light of the fire from a few paces ahead.”