What would have happened I am sure I do not know; but just then the Vrouw Prinsloo came up and caught her husband by the arm, exclaiming: 

“You shall have no part in this fool’s business.  If Marais wishes to seize the Zulus, let him do so himself.  Are you mad or drunk that you should think that Allan would wish to betray Marie to the Kaffirs, to say nothing of the rest of us?” and she began to wave an extremely dirty “vatdoek”, or dishcloth, which she always carried about with her and used for every purpose, towards Kambula as a sign of peace.

Now the Boers gave way, and Marais, seeing himself in a minority, glowered at me in silence.

“Ask these white people, O Macumazahn,” said Kambula, “who is their captain, for to the captain I would speak.”

I translated the question, and Marais answered: 

“I am.”

“No,” broke in Vrouw Prinsloo, “I am.  Tell them, Allan, that these men are all fools and have given the rule to me, a woman.”

So I told them.  Evidently this information surprised them a little, for they discussed together.  Then Kambula said: 

“So be it.  We have heard that the people of George are now ruled by a woman, and as you, Macumazahn, are one of that people, doubtless it is the same among your party.”

Here I may add that thenceforward the Zulus always accepted the Vrouw Prinsloo as the “Inkosikaas” or chieftainess of our little band, and with the single exception of myself, whom they looked upon as her “mouth,” or induna, would only transact business with or give directions to her.  The other Boers they ignored completely.

This point of etiquette settled, Kambula bade me repeat what he had already told me, that we were prisoners whom he was instructed by Dingaan to convey to his Great Place, and that if we made no attempt to escape we should not be hurt upon the journey.

I did so, whereon the vrouw asked as I had done, who had informed Dingaan that we were coming.

I repeated to her word for word what the Zulus had told me, that it was Pereira, whose object seems to have been to bring about my death or capture.

Then the vrouw exploded.

“Do you hear that, Henri Marais?” she screamed.  “It is your stinkcat of a nephew again.  Oh!  I thought I smelt him!  Your nephew has betrayed us to these Zulus that he may bring Allan to his death.  Ask them, Allan, what this Dingaan has done with the stinkcat.”

So I asked, and was informed they believed that the king had let Pereira go on to his own people in payment of the information that he had given him.

“My God!” said the vrouw, “I hoped that he had knocked him on the head.  Well, what is to be done now?”

“I don’t know,” I answered.  Then an idea occurred to me, and I said to Kambula: 

“It seems to be me, the son of George, that your king wants.  Take me, and let these people go on their road.”