Here I sat and smoked for half an hour, wondering what was going to become of me.

The air was very still, but I could hear the rustle of movement somewhere within a hundred yards.
The hidden folk were busy about their own ends, and I regretted that I had not taken the road by Sikitola's and seen how the kraals looked.
They must be empty now, for the young men were already out on some mission.

So nervous I got that I took my pocket-book and wrote down certain messages to my mother, which I implored whoever should find my body to transmit.

Then, a little ashamed of my childishness, I pulled myself together, and remounted.
About three in the afternoon I came over a low ridge of bush and saw the corrugated iron roof of the store and the gleam of water from the Labongo.

The sight encouraged me, for at any rate it meant the end of this disquieting ride.