The moon was just rising over the mountain range, the night was quite still, save when from time to time the cry of the jackal could be heard from the plain. In the native kraal all slept, and the party, consisting of fifteen men armed with assegais, and commanded by the same brave who had conducted them from their camp at Gorongoza, moved silently away the moment the white men joined them. Avoiding the kraal, they shaped their course to the north, travelling as swiftly as they could through a country densely covered with forest. Game seemed to grow more scarce as they neared the end of their journey; and, except for necessary purposes, it was little sought after, the object of all being identical, namely, to strike the Zambesi as soon as possible. This they at length did, though the forest growth impeded their progress so much, that it was only on the evening of the ninth day after leaving the country of the Amatonga that they reached its banks. Under the shade of the high hill of Baramuana a small tent was pitched, not larger than that used by the French soldier, and known by the name of tente d'abri. A fire burned fiercely in front of it, and close by ran the Zambesi, a fine broad stream flowing towards the sea, between banks covered with reeds of luxuriant growth. Beyond the river a level plain, broken by forest-land, and in the distance the blue outline of a high mountain range. Near the fire were seated the two Europeans, and in a semicircle round them the fifteen Amatonga warriors who had been their guides. Further down the stream, at a bend of the river, the walls of a brick building were visible, some ten miles away. A perfect jungle of forest swept up almost to the spot where the group were seated, the tamarind and acacia trees growing to the river bank, covered with creeping plants, such as the convolvulus, the jasmine, the deadly nightshade, all festooned from tree to tree, while the wild guava, the pomegranate, and many a sweet-scented bush pushed upwards their luxuriant undergrowth. The bees were humming among the sweetly-scented flowers of the dholicos, and the rushing sound of the river, as it took its way to the sea past the fort of Senna, was music to the ears of the two travellers. "Give them their due, Wyzinski, and let us be rid of them; I hate the very look of an Amatonga," exclaimed Hughes. The group of savages sat round, staring at the two with a steady, concentrated gaze, their long assegais raised in the air, "Matumba," said the powerful, but stunted brave, who had been in command of the party, speaking with difficulty the Zulu tongue, "Matumba has done his duty, let the chiefs do theirs. Yonder are the walls of their brethren's fort." The missionary did not at once reply, but pushing the promised arms towards the speaker, took from his belt his revolver, discharging its barrels into the air, handed it to the Amatonga. "This is now Umhleswa's property, and thus the white man fulfils his promise."