“Now,” I said, “come with me to the water’s edge, all of you.  You will be in less danger from the lightning there, where are no tall trees.  And while I am gone, do you ladies dress up Hans in that gorilla-skin as best you can, lacing it on to him with some of that palm-fibre string which we brought with us, and filling out the hollows and the head with leaves or reeds.  I want him to be ready when I come back with the canoe.

Hans groaned audibly, but made no objection and we started with our impedimenta down to the edge of the estuary where we hid behind a clump of mangrove bushes and tall, feathery reeds.  Then I took off some of my clothes, stripping in fact to my flannel shirt and the cotton pants I wore, both of which were grey in colour and therefore almost invisible at night.

Now I was ready and Hans handed me the little rifle.

“It is at full cock, Baas, with the catch on,” he said, “and carefully loaded.  Also I have wrapped the lining of my hat, which is very full of grease, for the hair makes grease especially in hot weather, Baas, round the lock to keep away the wet from the cap and powder.  It is not tied, Baas, only twisted.  Give the rifle a shake and it will fall off.”

“I understand,” I said, and gripped the gun with my left hand by the tongue just forward of the hammer, in such a fashion that the horrid greased rag from Hans’s hat was held tight over the lock and cap.  Then I shook hands with the others and when I came to Miss Hope I am proud to add that she spontaneously and of her own accord imprinted a kiss upon my mediaeval brow.  I felt inclined to return it, but did not.

“It is the kiss of peace, O Allan,” she said.  “May you go and return in peace.”

“Thank you,” I said, “but get on with dressing Hans in his new clothes.”

Stephen muttered something about feeling ashamed of himself.  Brother John put up a vigorous and well-directed prayer.  Mavovo saluted with the copper assegai and began to give me sibonga or Zulu titles of praise beneath his breath, and Mrs. Eversley said: 

“Oh!  I thank God that I have lived to see a brave English gentleman again,” which I thought a great compliment to my nation and myself, though when I afterwards discovered that she herself was English by birth, it took off some of the polish.

Next, just after a vivid flash of lightning, for the storm had broken in earnest now, I ran swiftly to the water’s edge, accompanied by Hans, who was determined to see the last of me.

“Get back, Hans, before the lightning shows you,” I said, as I slid gently from a mangrove-root into that filthy stream, “and tell them to keep my coat and trousers dry if they can.”

“Good-bye, Baas,” he murmured, and I heard that he was sobbing.  “Keep a good heart, O Baas of Baases.  After all, this is nothing to the vultures of the Hill of Slaughter. Intombi pulled us through then, and so she will again, for she knows who can hold her straight!”