art of my debt, and all the rest is owing still."

Then she told her story in few words, and when it was done, having
first looked to see that Swart Piet and his men were not coming, at the
bidding of Jan we all knelt down upon the veldt and thanked the Almighty
for our deliverance. Only Sihamba did not kneel, for she was a heathen,
and worshipped no one unless it were Suzanne.

"You should pray to the horse, too," she said, "for had it not been for
his legs, I could never have reached you in time."

"Peace, Sihamba," I answered, "it is God who made the horse's legs, as
God put it into your mind to use them;" but I said no more, though at
any other time I should have rated her well for her heathen folly.

Then we consulted together as to what was to be done and decided to make
our way to the house by a longer path which ran through the open veldt,
since we were sure that there, where is no cover, Swart Piet would not
attack us. Ralph, it is true, was for going into the Nek and attacking
him, but, as Jan showed him, such an act would be madness, for they
were many, and we were few; moreover, they could have picked us off from
behind the shelter of the rocks. So we settled to leave him alone, and
that night came home safely, though not without trouble, for we carried
Sihamba the most of the way, and after he grew stiff the _schimmel_
could only travel at a walking pace. Very soon that horse recovered,
however, for he was a good feeder, and lived to do still greater
service, although for a while his legs were somewhat puffed and had to
be poulticed with cabbage leaves.

Now Jan and Ralph were mad against Swart Piet, and would have brought
him to justice. But this road of justice was full of stones and
mud-holes, since the nearest land-drost, as we call a magistrate, lived
a hundred miles off, and it would not have been easy to persuade Piet
to appear and argue the case before him. Moreover, here again we had no
evidence against the man except that of a simple black fellow, who would
never have been believed, for, in fact, no attack was made upon us,
while that upon Sihamba might very well have been the work of some of
the low Kaffirs that haunt the kloofs, runaway slaves, and other rascals
who desired to steal the fine horse upon which she rode. Also we learned
that our enemy, acting through some agent, had sold his farm to a
stranger for a small sum of money, giving it out that he had no need of
the land, as he was le