“And I,” said Ralph aloud, “shall know whether my life is to be a heaven or a hell,” and all day long, neither eating nor drinking, he sat upon the waggon-box and stared at the mountain, not lifting his eyes from it. It was about one o’clock in the afternoon when we seemed to be quite close to the green flanks of Umpondwana, that of a sudden we cut a wide spoor trampled by thousands of naked feet. Jan and Gaasha got off the waggon to examine it, but Ralph did not move. “An impi has passed here,” said Jan presently. “Yes, and a Zulu impi as I think, Baas, but more than one whole day ago,” and Gaasha began to hunt about amongst some low bushes which grew near the trail. Presently he held up his hand and shouted, and Jan ran to him. “Look, Baas,” he said, pointing to a bush. Jan looked, and there beneath the bush lay a man, a Zulu soldier, for his tall grey plume was still fixed upon his head, and near him was his broad assegai. At that moment the man, who was still alive, although he was very near his death from dysentry, seemed to hear, for he sat up and opened his eyes, saying, “_Manzie, umlungho, manzie_.” (Water, white man, water.) “Bring a pannikin of water, here lies a sick Kaffir,” shouted Jan to Ralph, who was still seated on the waggon-box staring at the mountain. Ralph brought the water, and the soldier drank it greedily. “Who are you, and how come you here?” asked Jan. “I am a soldier of Dingaan,” answered the man, “but when we were attacking the little people on that mountain I fell sick. Still I came away with the impi, but here my strength failed me, and here I have lain for a round of the sun and a round of the moon. I begged them to kill me, but my brothers would not, for they said that I might recover and join them.” “Where have they gone?” asked Jan. “They have gone to eat up the Boers in Natal,” the Zulu answered in a hollow voice, his empty eyes wandering towards the mountains of the Quathlamba range. “Yes, they have gone to do the King’s bidding on the white men, for his word came to us while we besieged yonder stronghold. To-morrow at the dawn they attack the little laager beneath the white koppie by the banks of the Tugela, and I must reach them by then—yes, yes, now I am strong again, and I shall attack with them to-morrow at the dawn. Farewell, white men, I will not kill you because you gave me the water which has made me strong again,” and, rising from the ground, he grasped his spear and started forward at a run. “Stay,” cried Ralph. “I would question you as to what has happened on that mountain;” but the man did not seem to hear him. For thirty paces or so he ran on, then suddenly he halted and saluted with his spear, crying in a loud voice: “Chief, I report myself, I am present.” Next he stretched his arms wide and fell forward upon his face. When they reached him he was quite dead. “This is a strange story that we have heard about the Zulus and the folk in Natal,” said Jan, rubbing his forehead.