"Has he? Oh, all right, go to sleep again. Faugh?" he continued, as
they stood once more in the open air. "The whiff in there reminds one
of the 'tween-decks of a ship in a good rolling sea. The first part of
old Mhlanga's prediction holds good, but I must confess I don't quite
believe the second. Those fellows will be here in the morning."
After this, neither felt much inclined to sleep, so they sat up chatting
in a low tone far into the small hours. Then Payne's answers began to
get very confused, till at last his pipe dropped from his mouth, and
came to the ground with a clatter.
"Look here, Payne, go and do the horizontal there on the sofa," said his
companion, with a laugh. "I'll do sentry-go, and it's no good both
doing it."
"Well, if you really aren't sleepy--the fact is, I am, confoundedly,"
and, rolling himself in a jackal-skin rug, Payne stretched himself on
the couch, and in a minute was snoring peacefully.
His companion, well accustomed to long night-watches, sat at the window,
motionless, but wide awake, looking out into the starlit gloom. Now and
then he would doze off into that half-slumber known as "sleeping with
one eye open," wherein the wakeful faculties seem even more developed
than during actual wakefulness, but nothing occurred of a disturbing
nature. Once the dogs began to bark, but quieted down very soon, and
the hours wore on till the clear still dawn lightened upon the hills and
the sleeping valley.
Payne opened his eyes with a start, and met those of his companion.
"Hullo! Haven't you had a snooze?"
"No; that would be a queer way of mounting guard, wouldn't it? I think
I'll have one now, though."
"Well, I should recommend you to turn in altogether. I'll call you
presently. There'll be no one up for the next three hours, you know,"
continued Payne, with a meaning wink.
Two hours later Claverton was awake again, and found Payne just where he
had left him, snoring in regular cadence. Though the sun was up there
was no sign of life about the place.
"I wonder if that old Kafir was gammoning us," remarked Payne, as the
two made their way to the kraals. In that cheerful sunshine, the
effects of the dour midnight warning had faded somewhat, as such effects
will, and he was inclined to make light of it. "Here, Booi, Gcoku!" he
shouted; "tumble out--look sharp!"
There was no answer.
Meaningly, the two looked at each other. Then they made their way to
the huts, and kicked open the doors. The huts were empty. _If your
three herds are here to-morrow--if they answer when you call them--then
I have been telling you lies_, had been Mhlanga's words. Therefore, no
doubt now existed in his hearers' minds that his strange, mysterious
warning was true. The three Kafirs, with their families and belongings,
had departed, obedient to the "word" of the stranger, the chief's
emissary; had gone to add three more warriors to the martial gathering
of their tribe.
For a few moments Payne did not speak. He was rapidly revolving the
situation in his mind. War would mean ruinous loss to him. He would
have to send his family away to the settlements for safety, and go into
_laager_ himself; which latter meant months of armed tending of his
stock, in common with others in like predicament; and then, even if the
animals escaped capture at the hands of the savage foe, there were the
chances of catching lung sickness or other diseases from the inferior
and ill-bred stock of less careful or less successful farmers, with whom
they would necessarily mix during all the owners' joint occupation of
the defensive camp.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, at length, as his eyes fell upon some spoor.
"The _schelms_ have gone, and they've not gone empty-handed."
On counting the cattle his worst suspicions were verified. Four of his
finest cows were missing, and there was no difficulty whatever in making
out by the tracks that they had been driven off by his treacherous and
defecting retainers. Payne swore a great oath.
"We'll go after them!" he cried. "We'll give them pepper. Hallo!
There's Marshall. He's getting quite neighbourly."
The countenance of that stalwart frontiersman evinced no surprise as,
alighting from his nag, he learnt what had happened. He had come over
to see how they were all getting on, and had also been making a little
patrol on his own hook, he said.
"You're just in the nick of time, Joe," cried Payne. "You can come with
us."
"And are you going to leave the ladies here all alone?" replied
Marshall. "I wouldn't, if I were you."
"I had thought of that, too," said Claverton, quietly. "One of us must
stay."
"Then I will," said Marshall. "If you fellers are determined to rush
off, you'd better do so at once. Mind, I don't think you'll catch the
beggars in any case; they've got a good start of you. And my old nag
hasn't got go enough in her for a raid into Kreli's country just now."
"Very well, then, that settles it," said Payne. "It's awfully good of
you, Joe. We'll get breakfast sharp, and then start. By the way, we'd
better not tell the women where we're going."