"I dat man, missie," said the other, with a grin that showed a magnificent set of teeth. "Umlimo he say kill all Amakiwa--white people. Pukele say, No kill Jonemi. _Amapolise_ dey kill Ingerfiel, and missis, and strange white man. I not help. I go wit _amapolise_. I save Jonemi. See," lifting his foot off the sword-bayonet, "_I_ give him dis." "And for that you will never be sorry, I promise you," said Nidia. "Listen, Pukele. For that, and that alone, you shall have what will buy twenty cows. _I_ will give it you when we are safe again. Only--you must never tell Jonemi." The man broke into extravagant expressions of delight, in his own tongue, once he had begun to grasp the burden of this promise, declaring that Jonemi had always been his "father," and he was not going to let his "father" be killed, even at the bidding of ten Umlimos--looking round rather furtively however, as he gave utterance to this sacrilegious sentiment. "You said you had seen me at Jonemi's," went on Nidia; "but I have never been there. It must have been somewhere else." "No somewhere else. I see missie on bit of paper, hang on de wall. Jonemi he have it in hut where he sleep. He often stand, look at it for long time." A soft flush came into Nidia's face, accompanied by a pleased smile. "And you knew me from that?" she said. Then all her anxiety coming back upon her--for she had momentarily lost sight of it in the feeling of safety engendered by this man's appearance and identity--she exclaimed-- "But where is Jonemi? He went out yesterday--not much after midday--and should have been back by sundown. You must find him, Pukele." The man uttered some words to himself in his own tongue, which from the tone were expressive of like anxiety. Then, to her-- "Which way he go?" She pointed out, as best she could, the way John Ames had proposed to take. Pukele shook his head. "No good dat way. Much Matabele dere. 'Spose he fire gun, den Matabele hear him for sure." Nidia's face blanched, and she clasped her hands together wildly. "You don't think they have--killed him?" she said slowly. In his heart of hearts Pukele thought that nothing was more likely; but he was not going to say so. "I tink not," he answered, "Jonemi _nkos'nkulu_. Great master. He aflaid o' nuffin. Matabele much like him." "Listen, Pukele," said Nidia, impressively. "You must go and find him." "But what you do, missis? You be flighten, all alone. Suppose _Uconde_--bobyaan--he come again, you much flighten? I be away till sun, him so," pointing to the western horizon. "I'll be frightened of nothing," she answered emphatically. "Leave me one of your long assegais, and go. Even if you have to be away all night, don't come back. I'll get through it somehow. But--find Jonemi."