Suzanne and Zinti mingled with this crowd of fugitives, taking a position almost in the midst of it, for they did not wish to pass out either among the first or the last.  There they waited a while, none noting them, for in their great agony of thirst all thought of themselves and not of their neighbours.  Indeed, husbands deserted their sick wives and mothers their children, which were too heavy to carry; yes, they deserted them to be trampled by the feet of men and the hoofs of cattle.

Now, the eastern sky grew grey, and though the sun had not yet risen the light was such that a man could see the veins upon the back of his hand and the white moons on his finger-nails.  Presently, as though moved by one impulse, thousands of voices uttered a hoarse cry of “It is dawn!  Open, open!”

But it would seem that the wall still stood, for the cattle remained packed in so dense a mass that a man could have walked upon their backs, as, indeed, some tried to do.

At last the sun rose, or rather its rays shot upwards across the eastern skies like a fan of fire.  Suzanne turned her head and watched till presently the arrows of light struck upon the tall chair rock which was the highest point of all the mountain.  Yes, there in the chair sat the white figure and by its side stood what seemed to be a black child.  It was Sihamba.  Far below other eyes were watching also, the eyes of Swart Piet, for he would not let the people go until he knew that Suzanne and Sihamba stayed behind.  But now he saw them, Suzanne in her accustomed place, and at her side Sihamba.

“Pull down the walls,” he shouted to his men, for he was eager to clear the pass of cattle and Kaffirs that he might go up it, and they obeyed him.  Before they were more than half down the oxen, pushing and leaping forward madly, cleared what was left of them and, open-mouthed, their lolling tongues hanging from their dry jaws, rushed downward to the water, goring or trampling to death some of those who worked at the wall.

“The schanzes are down,” screamed the people, seeing the long line of cattle move, and immediately they began to press forward also.

At Suzanne’s side was a young woman so weak with thirst that she could scarcely walk, and on her back a year-old boy, insensible but living, for a red froth bubbled from his lips.  A man thrust this woman to one side and she fell; it was that aged councillor who on the yesterday had brought news of the surrender to Sihamba.  She tried to struggle to her feet but others trampled upon her.

“Sister, sister!” she cried, catching Suzanne by the hide blanket which she wore, “I am dead, but oh! save my child.”

“Let it be,” whispered Zinti, but Suzanne could not deny those piteous eyes, and as she passed she snatched up the boy and the sling in which he was carried by the dying woman, setting the band of it beneath her own breast.  So she went forward, bearing him upon her hip, nor did that act of mercy lack its reward, for as shall be seen it was her salvation.  Also the child lived, and to this day is a faithful servant in our house, though now his beard is white.