The fearful responsibility was more than I could bear.  I fell into a veritable agony; I trembled and even wept a little.  Then I thought of my father and what he would do in such circumstances, and began to pray as I had never prayed before.

I implored the Power above me to give me strength and wisdom; not to let me fail in this hour of trouble, and thereby bring these poor people to a bloody death.  I prayed till the perspiration streamed down my face; then suddenly I fell into sleep or swoon.  I don’t know how long I lay thus, but I think it must have been the best part of an hour.  At last I woke up all in an instant, and as I woke I distinctly heard a tiny voice, unlike any other voice in the whole world, speak inside my head, or so it seemed to me, saying: 

"Go to the hill Hloma Amabutu, and watch how the vultures fly.  Do what comes into your mind, and even if you seem to fail, fear nothing."

I sat up on the old vrouw’s bed, and felt that some mysterious change had come over me.  I was no longer the same man.  My doubts and terrors had gone; my hand was like a rock; my heart was light.  I knew that I should kill those three vultures.  Of course the story seems absurd, and easy to be explained by the state of my nerves under the strain which was being put upon them, and for aught I know that may be its true meaning.  Yet I am not ashamed to confess that I have always held, and still hold, otherwise.  I believe that in my extremity some kindly Power did speak to me in answer to my earnest prayers and to those of others, giving me guidance and, what I needed still more, judgment and calmness.  At any rate, that this was my conviction at the moment may be seen from the fact that I hastened to obey the teachings of that tiny, unnatural voice.

Climbing out of the wagon, I went to Hans, who was seated near by in the full glare of the hot sun, at which he seemed to stare with unblinking eyes.

“Where’s the rifle, Hans?” I said.

“Intombi is here, baas, where I have put her to keep her cool, so that she may not go off before it is wanted,” and he pointed to a little grave-like heap of gathered grass at his side.

The natives, I should explain, named this particular gun “Intombi”, which means a young girl, because it was so much slimmer and more graceful than other guns.

“Is it clean?” I asked.

“Never was she cleaner since she was born out of the fire, baas.  Also, the powder has been sifted and set to dry in the sun with the caps, and the bullets have been trued to the barrel, so that there may be no accidents when it comes to the shooting.  If you miss the aasvogels, baas, it will not be the fault of Intombi or of the powder and the bullets; it will be your own fault.”

“That’s comforting,” I answered.  “Well, come on, I want to go to the Death-hill yonder.”

“Why, baas, before the time?” asked the Hottentot, shrinking back a little.  “It is no place to visit till one is obliged.  These Zulus say that ghosts sit there even in the daylight, haunting the rocks where they were made ghosts.”