reat Place,
where he would talk matters over with them.

I said that I would deliver the message if I met any English people,
but, of course, I could not say whether they would accept Dingaan's
invitation to Umgungundhlovu. Indeed, I feared lest that town might
have acquired such a bad name that they would prefer not to come there
without an army.

Then, before Kambula had time to take any offence, I shook his
outstretched hand and urged my horse into the stream. I never met
Kambula again living, though after the battle of Blood River I saw him
dead.

Once over the Tugela I rode forward for half a mile or so till I was
clear of the bush and reeds that grew down to the water, fearing lest
the Zulus should follow and take me back to Dingaan to explain my
rather imprudent message. Seeing no signs of them, I halted, a desolate
creature in a desolate country which I did not know, wondering what I
should do and whither I should ride. Then it was that there happened one
of the strangest experiences of all my adventurous life.

As I sat dejectedly upon my horse, which was also dejected, amidst some
tumbled rocks that at a distant period in the world's history had formed
the bank of the great river, I heard a voice which seemed familiar to me
say:

"Baas, is that _you_, baas?"

I looked round and could see no one, so, thinking that I had been
deceived by my imagination, I held my peace.

"Baas," said the voice again, "are you dead or are you alive? Because,
if you are dead, I don't want to have anything to do with spooks until I
am obliged."

Now I answered, "Who is it that speaks, and whence?" though, really, as
I could see no one, I thought that I must be demented.

The next moment my horse snorted and shied violently, and no wonder, for
out of a great ant-bear hole not five paces away appeared a yellow face
crowned with black wool, in which was set a broken feather. I looked at
the face and the face looked at me.

"Hans," I said, "is it you? I thought that _you_ were killed with the
others."

"And I thought that _you_ were killed with the others, baas. Are you
sure that you are alive?"

"What are you doing there, you old fool?" I asked.

"Hiding from the Zulus, baas. I heard them on the other bank, and then
saw a man on a horse crossing the river, and went to ground like a
jackal. I have had enough of Zulus."

"Come out," I said, "and tell me your story."

He emerged, a thin and bedraggled creature, with