Afterwards, when Scroope came to again, he gave him a drink that threw him into a sweat and took away the fever.

The end of it was that in two days' time his patient sat up and asked for a square meal, and in a week we were able to begin to carry him to the coast.
"Guess that message of yours saved Brother Scroope's life," said old John, as he watched him start.
I made no answer.

Here I may state, however, that through my own men I inquired a little as to Brother John's movements at the time of what he called the message.

It seemed that he _had_ arranged to march towards the coast on the next morning, but that about two hours after sunset suddenly he ordered them to pack up everything and follow him.

This they did and to their intense disgust those Kaffirs were forced to trudge all night at the heels of Dogeetah, as they called him.