Ah! for how much must our blood be called upon to answer, and how good is that man who can conquer the natural promptings of his blood! Jan and I were following Ralph when he entered the river scherm, and reached it just in time to see pursued and pursuer vanishing up the narrow cleft.

I caught sight of Van Vooren's back only, but although I had not seen him for years, I knew it at once.
"We have found the tiger at home," I said, "yonder goes Swart Piet." "Allemachter! it is so," answered Jan.

"Look, there lies the tiger's prey," and pointing to Sihamba he followed them up the mountain side as fast as his weight would allow, for in those days Jan was a very heavy man.
Meanwhile I made my way to the little figure that was stretched upon the rock at the edge of the river.

She had fainted, but even before I reached her I saw from her small size and the strange hoop of stiff hair that she wore about her head, that it was none other than Sihamba, Sihamba whom I had last seen upon the eve of that unlucky marriage day.
But oh! she was sadly changed.

One of her legs, I forget which, had been broken by a gunshot; the blood trickled from the wound where Van Vooren had stabbed her in the back; her little body was wasted by the want of water, and her face had shrunk to the size of that of a small child, although strangely enough it still was pretty.