"I see you, Lamonti. _Au_! Zwabeka? He is asleep." "No matter. It will do when he wakes. Meanwhile we will go into a hut, for the rain will be great." "'M--'m!" assented the bystanders in a guttural hum. "The rain will be great. Ah! ah! The rain will be great!" There was a significance in the repetition hardly observed at the time by the new arrivals. One of them, at any rate, was to appreciate it later. To one of them, also, the utter absence of geniality on the part of the people supplied food for thought, combined too as it was with the use of his native name--in this instance a corruption of his own-- instead of the more respectful `_Nkose_.' But then Zwabeka's people were mostly Abezantsi--or those of the old, pure-blooded Zulu stock, and therefore proud. "Come this way, _Amakosi_," said the man he had addressed as Gudhlusa, pointing to a small enclosure. "We will put your horses there, and give them grain. Yonder is a new hut with the thatch but just on. There will ye rest." "That is good, Gudhlusa," said Lamont, giving him some tobacco. "Later, when the chief is awake we will talk with him." The new hut proved to be a very new one, which was a huge advantage in that it ensured immunity from the swarming cockroaches inseparable from old ones, and even worse. On the other hand, the thatch `just put on,' was not as complete as it might be, for a glint of sky visible through a hole or two in the roof did not give encouraging promise of a water-tight protection from the average thunder-shower. The saddlery and luggage was accordingly disposed in what looked likely to prove the driest side of the hut. "Well, Father, I'm inclined to think we can see our quarters for to-night," said Lamont cheerfully, as he filled his pipe and passed on his pouch to his companion. "Thanks. I think so too. Well, we might do worse." "Oh yes. A dry camp is better than a wet one. Do you talk the Sindabele?" "A little. Enough to make myself understood for the ordinary purposes. But I am learning it. You seem to have got it well, though." "I wish I had it better. You see I am a bit interested in these people. They--and their history--appeal to me. Poor devils! I can't help sympathising with them to a certain extent. It must be rotten hard luck for a lot of these older ones, like Zwabeka for instance, who have been big-wigs in their time, having to knuckle down to a new and strange form of government in which they come out very under-dog indeed. Still, it's the universal law and there's no help for it. But--I'm sorry for them for all that."