Of course her husband and son agreed with her, for to them the vrouw’s word was law; but Marais, being, as usual, obstinate, would not give way. All that afternoon they wrangled, while I held my tongue, declaring that I was willing to abide by the decision of the majority. In the end, as I foresaw they would, they appealed to me to act as umpire between them. “Friends,” I answered, “if you had asked me my opinion before, I should have voted for trying the mountains, beyond which, perhaps, we might find some Boers. I do not like this story of the Zulu impi. I think that someone has told them of our coming, and that it is us they mean to attack and not the Tongas, with whom they are at peace. My men say that it is not usual for impis to visit this part of the country.” “Who could have told them?” asked Marais. “I don’t know, mynheer. Perhaps the natives have sent on word, or perhaps—Hernan Pereira.” “I knew that you would suspect my nephew, Allan,” he exclaimed angrily. “I suspect no one; I only weigh what is probable. However, it is too late for us to move to-night either south or westwards, so I think I will sleep over the business and see what I can find out from my Zulus.” That night, or rather the following morning, the question was settled for us, for when I woke up at dawn, it was to see the faint light glimmering on what I knew must be spears. We were surrounded by a great company of Zulus, as I discovered afterwards, over two hundred strong. Thinking that after their fashion they were preparing to attack us at dawn, I called the news to the others, whereon Marais rushed forward, just as he had left his bed, cocking his roer as he came. “For the love of God, do not shoot!” I said. “How can we resist so many? Soft words are our only chance.” Still he attempted to fire, and would have done so had I not thrown myself upon him and literally torn the gun from his hand. By this time the Vrouw Prinsloo had come up, a very weird spectacle, I recollect, in what she called her “sleep-garments,” that included a night-cap made of a worn jackal skin and a kind of otter-pelt stomacher. “Accursed fool!” she said to Marais, “would you cause all our throats to be cut? Go forward, you, Allan, and talk to those _swartzels_” (that is, black creatures), “gently, as you would to a savage dog. You have a tongue steeped in oil, and they may listen to you.” “Yes,” I answered; “that seems the best thing to do. If I should not return, give my love to Marie.”