"'Twas a blanged half-caste, lad, that's what he were. I saw that in the fust look by the red _dook_ he wore roun' his greasy head, and by the spread of his flat nose, and the sight of him kept me still, I tell you. Half-castes is mean. And to think I'd been goin' hungry to save a thing like that, and him a sitting there with his mouth all smeared with black coal from the bried meat he were eatin'. The smell of it came to me where I lay in the shadder, an' I tell you it made me sick with longing for a bite, but I jes' kept there sniffin' till the faintness left me. Well, all ov a sudden I seed his jaws stop, and his eyes had that sort o' fixed look which they has when a man's listenin'. Then, without movin' his body, he reached out for his gun. Yes, sonny, he reached out for his gun with his eyes starin' straight for me, and I kivered him. While I was gettin' ready to shoot, outer the darkness behin' him there come a voice callin' in greetin', `Gumela vietu!' I giv' a start, but that ere half-caste he never stirred. The hand that was reachin' out for his gun stopped, his jaws began to move, but his voice were a bit shaky when he said `Gumela inkose!' and there was a sort o' hunchin' of his shoulders as tho' he felt the assegai going in. For a spell there was silence, then from the wall o' blackness there stepped to the fire the young chief hisself. I see the gleam o' his ivory bracelet. With his toe he moved the gun away. Then he reached down, took up a length of roasting flesh, caught hold of a mouthful and saw off the chunk with the blade of his assegai 'twixt his hand and his lips. He jes' ate and ate, an' the smell o' the meat made my stummick heave an' grumble most horrible." "They were friends, then, after all?"