conversation the
while.

"No, I don't like the look of things at all," repeated Dawes, beginning
to fill his pipe. "It is some days now since we crossed into the Zulu
country, and the people hardly come near us. It looks as if all this
talk about a war was going to lead to something. I'm afraid they are
turning ugly about that boundary question. I meant to have trekked
north on the west side of the Blood River, and taken this part of the
country on our way back, if we had anything left to trade that is, but
with all these reported ructions between the Zulus and Boers in the
disputed territory, I reckon we'd be quieter and safer in Zululand
proper."

"How ever will they settle the claim?" said Gerard.

"Heaven only knows. Here we have just annexed the Transvaal, and got
nothing for our pains but a bankrupt State whose people hate us, and a
lot of awkward liabilities, and not the least awkward is this disputed
boundary. If we give it over to the Dutch, Cetywayo is sure to make war
on them, and therein comes the fun of our new liability. We shall have
to protect them, they being now British subjects, and when we have
squashed the Zulus, the Boers will turn on us. If, on the other hand,
we give it over to the Zulus, we are giving away half the district of
Utrecht, and turning out a lot of people who have been living there for
years under what they thought good and sound title from their own
government, which doesn't seem right either. And any middle course will
please neither party, and be worse than useless."

"I suppose, if the truth were known, the Transvaal claim is actually a
fraud?"

"I believe it is. They claim that Mpande ceded them the land. Now I
don't believe for a moment the old king would have been such a fool as
to do anything of the kind, and even if he had been inclined to for the
sake of peace, Cetywayo, who practically held the reins then, would
never have let him. Well, if that Commission don't sit mighty soon,
it'll be no good for it to sit at all, for there'll be wigs on the green
long before."

"I wonder if we shall ever see poor Mouse again," said Gerard.

A sound of deep-toned voices and the rattle of assegai hafts caused both
to turn. Three Zulus were approaching rapidly. Striding up to the
waggons they halted, and gazing fixedly at the two white men, they gave
the usual greeting, "_Saku bona_"--and dropped into a squatting posture.
They were fine specimens of humanity, tall