"The chiefs of the Ama Ngqika, Sandili and the rest of them, have acted like children," replied Eustace, with apparent irrelevance. "They have allowed themselves to be dragged into war at the `word' of Kreli, and against the advice of their real friends, and where are they now? In prison, with a lot of thieves and common criminals, threatened with the death of a dog!" The Kafir uttered an emphatic murmur of assent. Hoste, who was excusably wondering what the deuce the recent bad behaviour, and eventual fate of Sandili and Co., had to do with that of Tom Carhayes, could hardly restrain his impatience. But Eustace knew what he was about. The Briton may, as he delights to boast, prefer plain and straightforward talking in matters of importance--or he may not. The savage, of whatever race or clime, unequivocally does not. He dearly loves what we should call beating around the bush. However important the subject under discussion, it must be led up to. To dash straight at the point is not his way. So after some further talk on the prospects and politics of the Gaika nation, and of the Amaxosa race in general-- past, present, and to come--Eustace went on: "You were not always a `loyal,' Xalasa?" "_Whau_!" cried the man, bringing his hand to his mouth, in expressive native fashion. "When the fire trumpet first sounded in the midnight sky, I answered its call. While the chiefs of the Ama Ngqika yet sat still, many of their children went forth to war at the `word' of the Paramount Chief. Many of us crossed into the Gcaleka country and fought at the side of our brethren. Many of us did not return. _Hau_!" "Then you became a `loyal'?" "_Ihuvumente_ [The Government] was very strong. We could not stand against it. Ha! _Amasoja_--_Amapolisi_--_bonke_. [Soldiers--police-- all] I thought of all the men who had crossed the Kei with me. I thought of the few who had returned. Then I thought, `Art thou a fool, Xalasa? Is thy father's son an ox that he should give himself to be slain to make strength for Sarili's fighting men?' _Hau_! I came home again and resolved to `sit still.'" "But your eyes and ears were open among the Ama-Gcaleka. They saw--they heard of my brother, Umlilwane?" "Thy brother, Umlilwane, was alive at the time the white _Amagcagca_ [Rabble] knocked me down and kicked me. He is alive still." "How do you know he is alive still?" said Eustace, mastering his voice with an effort, for his pulses were beating like a hammer as he hung upon the other's reply. It came--cool, impassive, confident: "The people talk." "Where is he, Xalasa?" "Listen, Ixeshane," said the Kafir, glancing around and sinking his voice to an awed whisper. "Where is he! _Au! Kwa 'Zinyoka_."