. But that day never came. Harry was not going to take the
trouble to hunt up a fellow who had become what he superciliously termed
a mere counter-jumper. So Gerard just plodded on, determined to stick
to what was a certainty as long as possible in spite of everything, the
"everything" being mainly a certain change which he thought to have
detected of late in his employer's behaviour towards him--a change not
for the better.

But just at this time there befell him an adventure which was destined
to affect materially his after destinies, and that in more ways than
one.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

SOBUZA, THE ZULU.

The river Umgeni, at Howick, a point about twelve or fourteen miles west
of Maritzburg, hurls itself over a sheer cliff, making a truly
magnificent waterfall some hundreds of feet high. So sudden and
unlooked-for is the drop that, crossing by the drift a little above the
fall, the appearance of the river and the lay of the country would lead
the casual visitor to expect nothing very wonderful. Yet, as a matter
of fact, viewed from the opposite side of the great basin into which it
hurls itself bodily, the Umgeni Fall is one of the grandest sights of
its kind.

Now, it happened one morning that Gerard Ridgeley, riding through the
above-mentioned drift, found his attention attracted by an extraordinary
sound, a sort of loud, long-drawn, gasping cry, as though an appeal for
help; and it seemed to come from the river. His first impulse was to
rein in his steed, but his own position was not quite free from risk,
for the river was in a somewhat swollen condition and the drift
dangerous. So he plunged on, and, having gained the opposite bank, he
halted his panting and dripping horse and sat listening intently.

Yes, there it was again, and, oh, Heavens! it came from below the drift.
Some one was in the water and in another minute would be over the fall.

With lash and spur he urged his horse along the bank. The broad current
swept downward swift and strong. He could see the turbid water creaming
into foam where it sped in resistless rapids around two or three rock
islets, and then curled over the frightful brink, and between himself
and the brink, speeding swiftly towards it, swept helplessly onward by
the force of the flood, was a round dark object--a man's head.

It was the head of a native. Gerard could even make out the shiny black
ring which crowned it. But native or white man, here was a
fellow-cr