of those she loved. Whatever lies he might
have spoken--and her heart told her that all his ill tidings were but a
cruel falsehood--this at least was true, that he had dogged her step by
step through the vast wilderness, and so craftily that none guessed his
presence. What might not be feared from such a foe as this, half mad and
all wicked, armed with terrible cunning and untiring patience? If the
Umpondwana would not receive her she must fall into his hands at once,
and if they did receive her she would never dare to leave their kraal,
for always, always he would be watching and waiting for her. Little
wonder then that she felt afraid, though, just as the sun shines ever
behind the blackest cloud, still in her heart shone the sure comfort of
her hope, and more than hope that in the end God would give her back
her husband and her to him unharmed. Yet, which ever way she looked the
cloud was very black, and through it she could see no ray of light.

When the mists had vanished and the air was warm with the sun, the army
of Sigwe marched from the pass heading for the great mountain. As they
drew near they saw that the Umpondwana were much terrified at the sight
of them, for from all the kraals, of which there were many on the slopes
of the mountain, they ran hither and thither like ants about a broken
nest, carrying their goods and children upon their shoulders, and
driving herds of cattle in towards the central stronghold. Noting this,
Sigwe halted and sent heralds forward to say that he came in peace and
not in war, and he desired to speak with their chief. In less than two
hours the heralds returned, bringing with them some of the headmen of
the Umpondwana, who stared round with frightened eyes, for they did not
believe that any general would come upon a message of peace with so many
regiments. When the _indaba_ was set Sigwe told them his name and
tribe, of both of which they had heard, and then, before speaking of his
business, asked which of them was the chief of the Umpondwana.

"Alas!" answered an old man, "we are in sore trouble here, and wander in
the darkness, for our chief, who was named Koraanu, died two days ago
of the small-pox which has raged among us for many months, leaving no
children behind him, for the sickness killed them also. Moreover, we are
suffering from a great drought, for as you may see, the veldt is still
brown, and there is no green upon the cornfields, and if rain does not
fall soon f