"Oh, Mutla, look! Look quick! The big Zulu there is Dirk! And, Mutla, that little bit of a lame boy in the midst of the 'war dance' is--GEORGE! It's GEORGE! Look! Dirk banged him over the head with his shield. He's crying. Oh, if only we could let him know in some way that we are here. He's looking this way! I am going to wave my hat! Quick, Mutla, wave to him! There, he saw us! He waved his arm to me! He's smiling now. See him?" Petrus wanted to shout for joy. "Yes, Master. But how dare we get him away from Dirk?" "To-night, when Dirk is fast asleep, George will come to this very tree where he saw us. We can't remain here. It's too exposed. But he will find this note. I'll stick it right through a high tree-branch here--where he'll be sure to see it. I'll make it so big that he can't miss it. There now. Quick! Let us make our escape back among the trees, Mutla!" Scarcely had Mutla followed Petrus back out of sight than the entire shrieking, savage regiment swept down over the very spot where, but a moment before, their ponies had been standing. "Dirk didn't see us, Mutla. He didn't look this way at all. But I saw George look right at the big note up on the tree. He'll come." Long was the night. At last Petrus thought he heard the joyful sound of two or three swiftly running steps behind him. Petrus listened again, but he was not certain, when--"Petrus! Petrus!" he heard close behind him. Springing from Ferus, Petrus turned to search for the voice. "George! George!" he cried softly in joy, as a little lame boy came limping out from behind a big tree and bounded forward into his arms. "Petrus! Take me home! Take me home!" he cried. "Quick, before Dirk comes! Dirk tried to make a Zulu of me, Petrus, and--" A great rushing sound of wheels drowned the rest of George's sentence. It was a large motor-car--for even in far-off Africa they have automobiles--with two armed passengers, which swung directly up to them and halted. "Oh, DADDY! FATHER! FATHER!" cried George, throwing himself into his father's arms. "GEORGE! GEORGE! my precious boy!" cried the lieutenant, seizing his child with a look of great joy. "Here, Petrus, jump into the car beside Hercules. You have won George's and my everlasting gratitude. Mutla, take this money and bring the ponies home by freight. Good-by. We're off for home!" "Good-by, Mutla, and thank you for coming with me," called back Petrus, as the big car whirled out of sight. CHAPTER X PETRUS THE HERO It was on the afternoon of New Year's Day--the day of Magdalena's wedding--that they reached home. It was one of those bright midsummer afternoons for which the Transvaal is famous. From the windows and doors of "Weltefreden" soft lights glowed, and the merry strains of fiddles and an accordion reached the ears of Lieutenant Wortley, Petrus, and a happy little English boy sitting between them, as the big car whirred up to the old farmhouse stoop.