“Neither are they nor am I afraid. We believe the river to be impassable in a canoe. I have only to beckon to my men, and they will follow me to death—and it is death to go down this cataract. We are now ready to hear you command us to go, and we want your promise that if anything happens, and our master asks, ‘Why did you do it?’ that you will bear the blame.” “No, I will not order you. I will have nothing to do with it. You are the chief in this canoe. If you like to go—go, and I will say you are men, and not afraid of the water. If not, stay, and I shall know it is because you are afraid. It appears to me easy enough, and I can advise you. I don’t see what could happen.” Thus challenging the people to show their mettle, poor Frank steadily hastened his fate. Uledi then turned to the crew, and said, “Boys, our little master is saying that we are afraid of death. I know there is death in the cataract, but come, let us show him that black men fear death as little as white men. What do you say?” “A man can but die once.” “Who can contend with his fate?” “Our fate is in the hands of God!” were the various answers he received. “Enough, take your seats,” Uledi said. “You are men!” cried Frank, delighted at the idea of soon reaching camp. “Bismillah” (“in the name of God”), “let go the rocks, and shove off!” cried the coxswain. “Bismillah!” echoed the crew, and they pushed away from the friendly cove. In a few seconds they had entered the river; and, in obedience to Frank, Uledi steered his craft for the left side of the river. But it soon became clear that they could not reach it. There was a greasy slipperiness about the water that was delusive, and it was irresistibly bearing them broadside over the falls; and observing this, Uledi turned the prow, and boldly bore down for the centre. Roused from his seat by the increasing thunder of the fearful waters, Frank rose to his feet, and looked over the heads of those in front, and now the full danger of his situation seemed to burst on him. But too late! They had reached the fall, and plunged headlong amid the waves and spray. The angry waters rose and leaped into their vessel, spun them round as though on a pivot, and so down over the curling, dancing, leaping crests they were borne, to the whirlpools which yawned below. Ah! then came the moment of anguish, regret and terror.