The whole condition of affairs was patent to Eustace's mind. Nteya, though a chief whose status was not far inferior to that of Sandili himself, was not all-powerful. Those of his tribesmen who came from a distance, and were not of his own clan, would be slow to give implicit obedience to his "word," their instincts for slaughter and pillage once fairly let loose, and so he had sent to warn Eanswyth. Besides, it was probable that there were Gcalekas among them. Ncanduku's words, "strangers from another land," seemed to point that way. He put it to Josane while harnessing the horses. The old man emitted a dry laugh. "There are about six hundred of the Gcaleka fighting men in Nteya's location to-night," he replied. "Every farmhouse in the land will be burned before the morning. _Whau_, Ixeshane! Is there any time to lose now?" Eustace realised that assuredly there was not. But inspanning a pair of horses was, to his experienced hand, the work of a very few minutes indeed. "Who is their chief?" he asked, tugging at the last strap. "Sigcau?" "No. Ukiva." An involuntary exclamation of concern escaped Eustace. For the chief named had evinced a marked hostility towards himself during his recent captivity; indeed, this man's influence had more than once almost turned the scale in favour of his death. No wonder he felt anxious. Eanswyth had gone into the house to put a few things together, having, with an effort, overcome her reluctance to let him out of her sight during the few minutes required for inspanning. Now she reappeared. "I am ready, Eustace," she said. He helped her to her seat and was beside her in a moment. "Let go, Josane!" he cried. And the Kafir, standing away from the horses' heads, uttered a sonorous farewell. "What will become of him, dear?" said Eanswyth, as they started off at a brisk pace. "He is going to stay here and try and save the house. I'm afraid he won't be able to, though. They are bound to burn it along with the others. And now take the reins a moment, dearest. I left my horse hitched up somewhere here, because I wanted to come upon you unawares. I'll just take off the saddle and tie it on behind." "But what about the horse? Why not take him with us?" "Josane will look after him. I won't take him along now, because--well, it's just on the cards we might have to make a push for it, and a led horse is a nuisance. Ah--there he is," as a low whinnying was heard on their left front and duly responded to by the pair in harness. In less than two minutes he had the saddle secured at the back of the buggy and was beside her again. It is to be feared Eustace drove very badly that night. Had the inquiry been made, candour would have compelled him to admit that he had never driven so badly in his life.