The stipulated time passed, and nothing was seen of the Matabili;
neither was anything known of the result of the mission of Sindo and his
companions.
The young hunters were now quite certain that their enemies had
relinquished the idea of conquering a band protected by the intellects
and weapons of white men, and that they had returned home.
With this opinion, that of the chief did not quite coincide.
Nevertheless, according to the agreement, he commenced making
preparations for departure.
The cattle were driven out of the enclosure, and again started along the
track, all acting as drovers, and urging the animals onward with as much
energy as if they believed that the enemy was in close pursuit. To
Groot Willem and his companions there was something very inconsistent in
the conduct of the Makololo.
They fought like brave men when forced to face the foe but now that no
enemy was near, they exhibited every sign of cowardice!
At Willem's request, Congo asked the chief for an explanation of this
unaccountable behaviour.
Macora admitted the truth of what was said, but added that his white
friends would see nothing strange in it, if they were only better
acquainted with the strategy of Moselekatse and his warriors.
The precaution of keeping scouts in the rear was not neglected; and, a
few hours after the march had commenced, one of these brought the news
that the Matabili were in pursuit.
As Macora had supposed, they had been waiting for him to forsake a
position so favourable for defence.
As the white hunters had now experienced the advantage of receiving the
pursuers in a fortified place, Hendrik and Arend, spurring their horses,
rode some distance in advance of the herds, for the purpose of selecting
a second battle-field.
In finding this, fortune refused to favour them for the second time.
The country through which they were now passing was an open plain,
presenting no natural advantages for anything but a "fair field and no
favour." This was not what they required.
"We have gone far enough," said Hendrik, after galloping about a mile.
"Our friends can hardly reach this place before being overtaken. We
must turn back to them."
"Of course we must," mechanically replied Arend, who was earnestly
gazing across the plain.
Hendrik turned his eyes in the same direction, and to his surprise saw
from twenty to thirty men coming rapidly towards them.
"We are going to be surrounded!" said Arend, as he turned his horse to
retreat.
Without further speech, the two galloped back to their companions.
"Macora was right," said Hendrik, as he joined Groot Willem and Hans.
"We should not have left the place where we were able to keep these
Matabili at bay. We have made a mistake."
While Macora was being informed that warriors had been seen ahead,
several of the scouts driven in reported that a large body of the
Matabili was rapidly approaching from the rear. For a moment Hans,
Hendrik, and Arend were not quite certain that the white traders they
had met the day before were much to blame for withdrawing from the scene
of danger. To them life seemed of too much value to be relinquished
without some powerful reason.
Hopes long and dearly cherished were now before the minds of our young
adventurers. They could not avoid thinking of their own safety. But
they had too much honour to think of deserting the brave Makololo, whom
they themselves had been instrumental in bringing into trouble.
They all looked to Groot Willem, who would not abandon the brave chief,
to whom they were so much indebted,--not even to save his own life.
They faltered no longer. Macora's fate should be theirs.
The chief was now urged to order a halt of his people; and, in
compliance with the request, he gave a shout that might have been heard
nearly a mile off.
It was answered by several of those in advance, who were driving the
cattle; but amongst the many responsive voices was one that all
recognised with a frenzied joy.
The sound of that particular voice was heard at a great distance, and
only indistinctly, but on hearing it the Makololo commenced leaping
about the ground like lunatics, several of them shouting, "Sindo!
Sindo!"
All hastened forward as fast as their limbs could carry them, and in a
few minutes after were met by a large party of Makololo warriors, who
communicated the pleasing intelligence that more were coming up close
behind.
Sindo and his companions had succeeded in the accomplishment of their
mission.
Ma-Mochisane, just at that crisis, chanced to be on a visit to the
southern part of her dominions, and to have with her many warriors of
different tribes of her people.
Macora, a friend of her childhood, was remembered. The desire of aiding
him was backed by the hereditary hatred for the Matabili, and not a
moment was lost in despatching a party of chosen fighting men to his
assistance.
They had arrived just in time. Two hours later, and those they had been
sent to rescue would have been engaged with their enemies without the
advantage of a position favourable for defence.
The result was that, instead of encountering a small band of outcast and
wearied Makololo, Moselekatse's men found themselves opposed by a large
force of warriors fresh and vigorous for any fray,--men who had often
been led to victory by the noble chief Sebituane.
Moselekatse's soldiers saw that there was but one way of saving
themselves from the disgrace that threatened them; that was by a sudden
change in the tactics they had been hitherto pursuing. They resolved on
an immediate onslaught.
They made it, only to be repulsed.
After a short conflict they were completely routed, and retreated in a
manner that plainly expressed their intention to discontinue the
campaign.
From that hour the young hunters never heard of them again.
Three days after the retreat of the Matabili our adventurers were
introduced at the court of Ma-Mochisane by Macora, who made formal
declaration of his fidelity to his new sovereign.
On the return of the chief from his long exile he was enthusiastically
received by his countrymen,--the more as from his having incurred the
resentment of the Matabili.