-by, did they seem in any way keen upon trading.

We fear it may hardly be denied that the rose-coloured spectacles
through which Gerard had first looked upon the trip and its prospects
had undergone some slight dimness, and for this May Kingsland's blue
eyes were wholly responsible. For be it remembered he was very young,
and the consciousness that a long time--a whole year, perhaps--must
elapse before he should see her again, cast something of a gloom upon
his spirits. Good-natured John Dawes saw through the change in his
young companion's lightheartedness, and laughed dryly to himself.
Gerard would soon find the right cure for that sort of complaint, he
said, when the real business of the trip should begin.

One morning a party of half a dozen young Zulus, driving an ox, came up
to them as they sat outspanned. The one who seemed to be the leader was
a tall, straight, well-built fellow, with a pleasing intelligent
countenance. He, like the rest, was unringed, but held his head high in
the air, as though he were somebody. All carried assegais and shields.
The young leader and two of the others strode up to where Gerard was
sitting, and uttering the usual form of greeting, "_Saku bona_,"
squatted down on the grass before him.

Now, it happened that Dawes was away, having ridden off to some kraals a
few miles distant. Gerard, thus thrown upon his own resources, began to
feel something of the burden of responsibility as he returned their
greeting and waited for them to speak next. But the leader, stretching
forth his hand, said--

"Give me that."

Gerard was cleaning a gun at the time, the double-barrelled one, rifle
and shot. The Zulu's remark had come so quick, accompanied by a
half-move forward, as though he might be going to seize the weapon, that
Gerard instinctively tightened his grasp on it.

"Who are you?" he said, looking the other in the eyes.

"Nkumbi-ka-zulu, son of Sirayo, the king's _induna_," replied the youth,
with a haughty toss of the head, denoting surprise that anybody should
require to be informed of his identity. "Give me the gun; I want to
look at it," he continued, again stretching forth his hand.

Gerard realised the delicacy of the situation. There was a greedy
sparkle in the young Zulu's eye as it lighted upon the weapon, which
caused him to feel anything but sure that it would be returned to him
again. On the other hand, Dawes, he remembered, had a poor opinion of
Sirayo and