“Good,” she said, when he had done. “Now lead me to this place, and then perhaps I will tell my plan if I have one.” So they started on again, but just as they reached the crest of the Nek a heavy thunderstorm came up, together with clouds and rain, hiding everything from them. “Now I suppose that we must stay here till the light comes,” said Sihamba. “Not so, lady,” answered Zinti, “I have been the path once and I can go it again in storm or shine,” and he pressed forward, with the lightning flashes for a candle. Well was that storm for them indeed, since otherwise they would have been seen, for already Swart Piet had set his scouts about the kraal. At length Sihamba felt that they were riding among trees, for water dripped from them upon her and their branches brushed her face. “Here is the wood where the women cut poles for the new hut,” whispered Zinti in her ear. “Then let us halt,” she answered, and dismounting they tied the three horses and the mule to as many small trees close together, but not near enough for them to kick each other. Now Sihamba took a piece of biltong from a saddle-bag and began to eat it, for she knew that she would need all her cleverness and strength. “Take the bag of mealies,” she said, “and divide it among the horses and the mule, giving a double share to the _schimmel_.” Zinti obeyed her, and presently all four of the beasts were eating well, for though they had travelled far their loads were light, nor had the pace been pressed. Sihamba turned, and, holding out her hands towards the horses, muttered something rapidly. “What are you doing, mistress?” asked Zinti. “Perhaps I am throwing a charm upon these animals, that they may neither neigh nor whinny till we come again, for if they do so we are lost. Now let us go, and—stay, bring the gun with you, for you know how to shoot.” So they started, slipping through the wet wood like shadows. For ten minutes or more they crept on thus towards the dark line of cliff, Zinti going first and feeling the way with his fingers, till presently he halted. “Hist!” he whispered. “I smell people.” As he spoke, they heard a sound like to that of someone sliding down rocks. Then a man challenged, saying, “Who passes from the krantz?” and a woman’s voice answered, “It is I, Asika, the wife of Bull-Head.” “I hear you,” answered the man. “Now tell me, Asika, what happens yonder.” “What happens? How do I know what happens?” she answered crossly. “About sunset Bull-Head brought home his new wife, a white chieftainess, for whom we built the hut yonder; but the fashions of marriage among these white people must be strange indeed, for this one came to her husband, her feet bound, and with a face like to the face of a dead woman, the eyes set wide, and the lips parted. Yes, and they blindfolded her in the wood there and carried her through this hole in the rock down to the hut where she is shut in.”