At length all was ready, the cases of guns, ammunition, medicines, presents and food were on board the Maria.  So were four donkeys that I had bought in the hope that they would prove useful, either to ride or as pack beasts.  The donkey, be it remembered, and man are the only animals which are said to be immune from the poisonous effects of the bite of tsetse fly, except, of course, the wild game.  It was our last night at Durban, a very beautiful night of full moon at the end of March, for the Portugee Delgado had announced his intention of sailing on the following afternoon.  Stephen Somers and I were seated on the stoep smoking and talking things over.

“It is a strange thing,” I said, “that Brother John should never have turned up.  I know that he was set upon making this expedition, not only for the sake of the orchid, but also for some other reason of which he would not speak.  I think that the old fellow must be dead.”

“Very likely,” answered Stephen (we had become intimate and I called him Stephen now), “a man alone among savages might easily come to grief and never be heard of again.  Hark!  What’s that?” and he pointed to some gardenia bushes in the shadow of the house near by, whence came a sound of something that moved.

“A dog, I expect, or perhaps it is Hans.  He curls up in all sorts of places near to where I may be.  Hans, are you there?”

A figure arose from the gardenia bushes.

“Ja, I am here, Baas.”

“What are you doing, Hans?”

“I am doing what the dog does, Baas—­watching my master.”

“Good,” I answered.  Then an idea struck me.  “Hans, you have heard of the white Baas with the long beard whom the Kaffirs call Dogeetah?”

“I have heard of him and once I saw him, a few moons ago passing through Pinetown.  A Kaffir with him told me that he was going over the Drakensberg to hunt for things that crawl and fly, being quite mad, Baas.”

“Well, where is he now, Hans?  He should have been here to travel with us.”

“Am I a spirit that I can tell the Baas whither a white man has wandered.  Yet, stay.  Mavovo may be able to tell.  He is a great doctor, he can see through distance, and even now, this very night his Snake of divination has entered into him and he is looking into the future, yonder, behind the house.  I saw him form the circle.”

I translated what Hans said to Stephen, for he had been talking in Dutch, then asked him if he would like to see some Kaffir magic.

“Of course,” he answered, “but it’s all bosh, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, all bosh, or so most people say,” I answered evasively.  “Still, sometimes these Inyangas tell one strange things.”