At that moment I hated Henri Marais as I had never hated anyone before, not even his nephew Hernan.  Almost did I ride to the commandant to complain of him, but reflecting to myself, first that he was undoubtedly half mad, and therefore not responsible for his actions, and secondly that he was better here with us than in the same camp with my wife, I gave up the idea.  Yet alas! it is the half-mad who are the most dangerous of lunatics.

Hans, who had observed this scene and overheard all Marais’s talk, and who also knew the state of the case well enough, sidled his horse alongside of me, and whispered in a wheedling voice: 

“Baas, I think the old baas is kransick and not safe.  He looks like one who is going to harm someone.  Now, baas, suppose I let my gun off by accident; you know we coloured people are very careless with guns!  The Heer Marais would never be troubled with any more fancies, and you and the Missie Marie and all of us would be safer.  Also, you could not be blamed, nor could I, for who can help an accident?  Guns will go off sometimes, baas, when you don’t want them to.”

“Get out,” I answered.  Yet if Hans’s gun had chanced to “go off,” I believe it might have saved a multitude of lives!

CHAPTER XVIII

THE TREATY

Our journey to Umgungundhlovu was prosperous and without incident.  When we were within half a day’s march from the Great Kraal we overtook the herd of cattle that we had recaptured from Sikonyela, for these beasts had been driven very slowly and well rested that they might arrive in good condition.  Also the commandant was anxious that we should present them ourselves to the king.

Driving this multitude of animals before us—­there were over five thousand head of them—­we reached the Great Place on Saturday the 3rd of February about midday, and forced them through its gates into the cattle kraals.  Then we off-saddled and ate our dinner under those two milk trees near the gate of the kraal where I had bid good-bye to Dingaan.

After dinner messengers came to ask us to visit the king, and with them the youth, Thomas Halstead, who told the commandant that all weapons must be left behind, since it was the Zulu law that no man might appear before the king armed.  To this Retief demurred, whereon the messengers appealed to me, whom they had recognised, asking if that were not the custom of their country.

I answered that I had not been in it long enough to know.  Then there was a pause while they sent for someone to bear evidence; at the time I did not know whom, as I was not near enough to Thomas Halstead to make inquiries.  Presently this someone appeared, and turned out to be none other than Hernan Pereira.

He advanced towards us attended by Zulus, as though he were a chief, looking fat and well and handsomer than ever.  Seeing Retief, he lifted his hat with a flourish and held out his hand, which, I noted, the commandant did not take.