"Yes, there were many, many, many, hardly an hour's ride further on.

But he was hungry, hungry--he, the chief--and so were his wives--four of them--all of them." He spoke the pretty Zulu language--it is something like Italian.
We went on.

The track went steep down hill to a spruit where the water lay in pools.

And there on the opposite hill was that gallant little British Army, halted in a position of extreme danger, absolutely commanded on all sides but one, and preparing for tea as unconcernedly as if they were in a Lockhart's shop in Goswell Road.

Almost as unconcernedly--for, indeed, some of the officers showed signs of their long anxiety and sleeplessness.