In wading through one of these rivulets, Suzanne struck her bare ankle against a stone and lamed herself, so that from this time forward, shivering and wet with water, for her hurt was so sharp and sudden that she had fallen in the stream, she was forced to walk leaning on Zinti’s shoulder, and indeed over some rough places he was obliged to carry her. Now again Zinti wished to abandon that heavy child, for strong though he was the weight of the two of them proved almost more than he could bear, but Suzanne would not listen to him. “Nay,” she said, “this child that was sent to me by Heaven has saved me from shame and death, and shame and death be my portion if I will leave it while I live. Go on alone if you will, Zinti, and I will stay here with the child.” “Truly white people are strange,” answered Zinti, “that they should wish to burden themselves with the child of another when their own lives are at stake, but be it as you will, lady,” and he struggled forward as best he could, carrying the one and supporting the other. Thus for hour after hour, slowly they crept onward with only the stars to light and guide them, till at length about midnight the moon rose and they saw that they were near the foot of the mountain. Now they rested awhile, but not long enough to grow stiff, then hastening down the slope they reached the plain, and headed for the white-topped koppie which shone in the moonlight some six miles away. On they crept, Suzanne now limping painfully, for her ankle had begun to swell, and now crawling upon her hands and knees, for Zinti had no longer the strength to carry her and the child. Thus they covered three miles in perhaps as many hours. At last, with something like a sob, Suzanne sank to the earth. “Zinti, I can walk no more,” she said. “Either I must rest or die.” He looked at her and saw that she spoke truth, for she was quite outworn. “Is it so?” he said, “then we must stay here till the morning, nor do I think that you will take hurt, for Bull-Head will scarcely care to cross that pass by night.” Suzanne shook her head and answered: “He will have begun to climb it at the rising of the moon. Hear me, Zinti. The Boer camp is close and you still have some strength left; take the child and go to it, and having gained an entrance in this way or in that tell them my plight and they will ride out and save me.” “That is a good thought,” he said; “but, lady, I do not like to leave you alone, since here there is no place for you to hide.” “You could not help me if you stayed, Zinti, therefore go, for the sooner you are gone, the sooner I shall be rescued.” “I hear your command, lady,” he answered, and having given her most of the food that was left, he fastened the sleeping child upon his shoulder and walked forward up the rise.