“Puppies from the same litter are often alike, yet when they grow up sometimes they fight each other,” replied Father Christmas blandly.  “At least these come to save and not to kill you.  Look! they kill the others!” and he pointed to them making an end of some of the wounded men.  “But who are these?” and he glanced with evident astonishment, first at the fearsome-looking Umslopogaas and then at the grotesque Hans.  “Nay, answer not, you must be weary and need rest.  Afterwards we can talk.”

“Well, as a matter of fact we have not yet breakfasted,” I replied.  “Also I have business to attend to here,” and I glanced at our wounded.

The old fellow nodded and went to speak to the captains of his force, doubtless as to the pursuit of the enemy, for presently I saw a company spring forward on their tracks.  Then, assisted by Hans and the remaining Zulus, of whom one was Goroko, I turned to attend to our own people.  The task proved lighter than I expected, since the badly injured man was dead or dying and the hurts of the two others were in their legs and comparatively slight, such as Goroko could doctor in his own native fashion.

After this, taking Hans to guard my back, I went down to the stream and washed myself.  Then I returned and ate, wondering the while that I could do so with appetite after the terrible dangers which we had passed.  Still, we had passed them, and Robertson, Umslopogaas with three of his men, I and Hans were quite unharmed, a fact for which I returned thanks in silence but sincerely enough to Providence.

Hans also returned thanks in his own fashion, after he had filled himself, not before, and lit his corn-cob pipe.  But Robertson made no remark; indeed, when he had satisfied his natural cravings, he rose and walking a few paces forward, stood staring at the cleft in the mountain cliff into which he had seen the litter vanish that bore his daughter to some fate unknown.

Even the great fight that we had fought and the victory we had won against overpowering odds did not appear to impress him.  He only glared at the mountain into the heart of which Inez had been raped away, and shook his fist.  Since she was gone all else went for nothing, so much so that he did not offer to assist with the wounded Zulus or show curiosity about the strange old man by whom we had been rescued.

“The Great Medicine, Baas,” said Hans in a bewildered way, “is even more powerful than I thought.  Not only has it brought us safely through the fighting and without a scratch, for those Zulus there do not matter and there will be less cooking for me to do now that they are gone; it has also brought down your reverend father the Predikant from the Place of Fires in Heaven, somewhat changed from what I remember him, it is true, but still without doubt the same.  When I make my report to him presently, if he can understand my talk, I shall——­”

“Stop your infernal nonsense, you son of a donkey,” I broke in, for at this moment old Father Christmas, smiling more benignly than before, re-appeared from the kloof into which he had vanished and advanced towards us bowing with much politeness.