He had been seen at Maritzburg and, according to some Kaffirs whom I knew, afterwards on the borders of Zululand, where, so far as I could learn, he vanished into space.
This, to say the least of it, was disconcerting, and a question arose as to what was to be done.

Brother John was to have been our guide.

He alone knew the Mazitu people; he alone had visited the borders of the mysterious Pongo-land, I scarcely felt inclined to attempt to reach that country without his aid.
When a fortnight had gone by and still there were no signs of him, Stephen and I held a solemn conference.

I pointed out the difficulties and dangers of the situation to him and suggested that, under the circumstances, it might be wise to give up this wild orchid-chase and go elephant-hunting instead in a certain part of Zululand, where in those days these animals were still abundant.
He was inclined to agree with me, since the prospect of killing elephants had attractions for him.
"And yet," I said, after reflection, "it's curious, but I never remember making a successful trip after altering plans at the last moment, that is, unless one was driven to it." "I vote we toss up," said Somers; "it gives Providence a chance.

Now then, heads for the Golden Cyp, and tails for the elephants." He spun a half-crown into the air.