Catching sight of the great Umslopogaas with his gleaming axe and of his savage-looking bodyguard, she uttered an exclamation and not unnaturally turned to fly.
"It's all right," I sang out, emerging from behind the oxen, and in English, though before the words had left my lips I reflected that there was not the slightest reason to suppose that she would understand them.
Probably she was Dutch, or Portuguese, although by some instinct I had addressed her in English.
To my surprise she answered me in the same tongue, spoken, it is true, with a peculiar accent which I could not place, as it was neither Scotch nor Irish.
"Thank you," she said.

"I, sir, was frightened.

Your friends look----" Here she stumbled for a word, then added, "terrocious." I laughed at this composite adjective and answered, "Well, so they are in a way, though they will not harm you or me.

But, young lady, tell me, can we outspan here?
Perhaps your husband----" "I have no husband, I have only a father, sir," and she sighed.
"Well, then, could I speak to your father?
My name is Allan Quatermain and I am making a journey of exploration, to find out about the country beyond, you know." "Yes, I will go to wake him.

He is asleep.