“That is an odd man,” said Sir Henry.

“Yes,” answered I, “too odd by half.  I don’t like his little ways.  He knows something, and will not speak out.  But I suppose it is no use quarrelling with him.  We are in for a curious trip, and a mysterious Zulu won’t make much difference one way or another.”

Next day we made our arrangements for starting.  Of course it was impossible to drag our heavy elephant rifles and other kit with us across the desert, so, dismissing our bearers, we made an arrangement with an old native who had a kraal close by to take care of them till we returned.  It went to my heart to leave such things as those sweet tools to the tender mercies of an old thief of a savage whose greedy eyes I could see gloating over them.  But I took some precautions.

First of all I loaded all the rifles, placing them at full cock, and informed him that if he touched them they would go off.  He tried the experiment instantly with my eight-bore, and it did go off, and blew a hole right through one of his oxen, which were just then being driven up to the kraal, to say nothing of knocking him head over heels with the recoil.  He got up considerably startled, and not at all pleased at the loss of the ox, which he had the impudence to ask me to pay for, and nothing would induce him to touch the guns again.

“Put the live devils out of the way up there in the thatch,” he said, “or they will murder us all.”

Then I told him that, when we came back, if one of those things was missing I would kill him and his people by witchcraft; and if we died and he tried to steal the rifles I would come and haunt him and turn his cattle mad and his milk sour till life was a weariness, and would make the devils in the guns come out and talk to him in a way he did not like, and generally gave him a good idea of judgment to come.  After that he promised to look after them as though they were his father’s spirit.  He was a very superstitious old Kafir and a great villain.

Having thus disposed of our superfluous gear we arranged the kit we five—­Sir Henry, Good, myself, Umbopa, and the Hottentot Ventvoegel—­ were to take with us on our journey.  It was small enough, but do what we would we could not get its weight down under about forty pounds a man.  This is what it consisted of:—­

The three express rifles and two hundred rounds of ammunition.

The two Winchester repeating rifles (for Umbopa and Ventvoegel), with two hundred rounds of cartridge.

Five Cochrane’s water-bottles, each holding four pints.

Five blankets.

Twenty-five pounds’ weight of biltong—­i.e. sun-dried game flesh.

Ten pounds’ weight of best mixed beads for gifts.

A selection of medicine, including an ounce of quinine, and one or two small surgical instruments.

Our knives, a few sundries, such as a compass, matches, a pocket filter, tobacco, a trowel, a bottle of brandy, and the clothes we stood in.