"No, wait until morning. Your ponies are tired. The road from here to Durban is a rough one at best. Even the bravest would not be foolhardy enough to undertake it by night," insisted the old missionary. "You are right. We will sleep to-night. In the early morning, long before you are up, we will be far on our way. Good-night, and thank you for all your kindness," said Petrus, handing the kind Kafir a sovereign to aid him in his work. "Then 'good-night,' my boy, I wish you success and God-speed." FOOTNOTES: [16] Master. [17] Drakensberg. CHAPTER IX A ZULU WAR-DANCE It was a glorious December morning. Petrus and Mutla were again in their saddles. Ladysmith and a near-by ostrich farm were soon left far behind. Then they forded the historic Tugela, which barely came up to their ponies' knees. They made good play at a swinging gallop, threading their way in and out through Natal's tree-covered hills. The country through which they were hastening was of indescribable beauty--a veritable fairyland with its rushing streams, beautiful forests of sweet-scented evergreens, graceful palm-trees and masses of strange and beautiful wildflowers. Petrus and Mutla were in the land of the black man, from the melancholy-faced Hindoo cooly to the blackest of black Zulus. Gliding nimbly in and out through the bushes, or creeping slyly up in the tall grass, were bunches of swift-footed Zulus. Petrus shuddered, and closely scanned each black face for Dirk's. Thousands of their beehive-like kraals were thickly scattered over every hillside they were passing. "Look out for Dirk, Mutla. We may pass him on the road at any moment," sternly cautioned Petrus, as they hastened on through Natal's tropical valleys and uplands. They paused at Pietermaritzburg. There the papers were full of the story and the offer of the large reward, but no trace of the stolen boy. Realizing that Durban must be reached at once, if Dirk was to be overtaken, they changed their pace into an easy gallop and dashed on their way towards the coast, past many large banana and sugar-cane plantations. A cooling breeze was brushing the hillsides, for it had rained hard during the night. [Illustration: "PILING GREAT BEAMS OF WOOD IN ORDERLY ROWS ON THE WHARF"] It was only about noon when they reached Natal's beautiful seaport--the "Pearl of South African Cities," as Durban has been called. Petrus made straight for the land-locked harbor. Above--on one of these beautiful terraced hillsides overlooking the Indian Ocean--he could see the handsome residences of the Berea, where dwelt Durban's prosperous business men.