r
trading, preaching, and fighting, but for plotting. Chiefs met there in
peace, who might otherwise have failed to meet except in battle, and
these, with chiefs of banditti from the mountains, and malcontents from
all quarters, concocted and hatched designs against the well-being of
individuals and of the public at large.

At this time the colonists, besides being troubled by savage thieves,
were threatened with disturbance from the inter-tribal feuds of the
savages themselves. One tremendous Zulu monster of the name of Chaka--
who excelled Nero himself in cruelty--was driving other tribes of Kafirs
down into the colony, and designing chiefs were beginning to think or
hope that the opportunity had arrived for carrying out their favourite
idea of driving the white man into the sea.

In a dark forest glade, not far from the fort, and within hearing of its
bugle-calls, Stephen Orpin walked up and down with one of the
malcontents.

"I tell you, Ruyter, it is in vain to join with the Kafirs," said Orpin.
"If all the Hottentots in Africa were to unite with them, you would not
be strong enough to crush the white man."

"Why not?" demanded the Hottentot angrily, in his broken English; "we be
strong as you, and brave."

"But you are not so well armed," said Orpin.

"Fact," returned the freebooter, "but time vill make dat all squaar.
Smugglers bring guns to we, an' pooder. Ver' soon be all right."

"Listen, Ruyter, you are like a child. You know nothing. The land from
which the white man comes will never suffer him to be driven out of
Africa. England is rich in everything, and will send men to fill the
places of those who fall. Besides, I think God is on the white man's
side, because the white man in the main intends and tries to do good.
Just think of the `fair.' The black man wants beads and brass wire and
cotton, and many other things--the white man brings these things from
over the sea. On the other hand the white man wants hides, horns,
ivory--the black man can supply these things. They meet to exchange,
good is done by each to the other. Why should they fight?"

"For revenge," said Ruyter darkly.

"No doubt revenge is sweet to you, but it is sinful," returned Orpin.
"Besides, the sweetness does not last long; and will it, let me ask,
make the black man happier or the white man more sorrowful in the
long-run? You should think of others, not only of yourself, Ruyter."

"Does Jan Smit ever tink of oder