One thing she could see, however--the whitened corpse set on high in the chair of rock, and by the side of it a black dot that she knew to be Sihamba.

Twice she turned round and gazed at it, but the second time the dot had become almost imperceptible, although it still was there.

Long and earnestly she looked, sending her farewell through space to that true friend and deliverer whose eyes, as she knew well, watched her flight and whose heart went with her.
Then she travelled on sadly, wondering what was that plan of escape of which Sihamba had spoken, and why it was that she stood there by the corpse and did not put it into practice, wondering also when they should meet again and where.

A third time she turned, and now the dead woman on the rock was but as a tiny point of white, and now it had altogether vanished away.
After this Suzanne halted no more, but pressed on steadily towards the saw-edged spur, which she reached about twelve o'clock, for the grass was so tall, the untrodden veldt so rough, and the sun so hot that, weak as she felt with grief and the effects of thirst, and laden with a heavy child, her progress was very slow.

At length, however, she stood gasping in its shadow, gazing dismayed at the huge range of mountains before her and the steep rough cliffs up which she must climb.
"Never shall I cross them without foot and weighted with this child, so the end of it will be that I must die after all," thought Suzanne as she sank down by the banks of a little rivulet, resting her swollen feet in its cool stream, for then, and indeed for weeks after, it seemed to her that she could never have enough of the taste and smell and feel of water.
As she sat thus, striving to still the wailing of the hungry boy, suddenly the shadow of a man fell upon her.