They reached the outer fortifications in safety, and there were greeted with some surprise but with no displeasure by the Makalanga, whom they found still drilling with the rifles, in the use of which a certain number of them appeared to have become fairly proficient.  Going to the hut in which the spare goods from the waggon had been stored, they quickly made their preparations.  Here also, Mr. Clifford wrote a letter, one of the most unpleasant that he had ever been called upon to compose.  It ran thus: 

“Dear Meyer,

“I don’t know what you will think of us, but we are escaping from this place.  The truth is that I am not well, and my daughter can bear it no longer.  She says that if she stops here, she will die, and that hunting for treasure in that ghastly grave-yard is shattering her nerves.  I should have liked to tell you, but she begged me not, being convinced that if I did, you would over-persuade us or stop us in some way.  As for the gold, if you can find it, take it all.  I renounce my share.  We are leaving you the waggon and the oxen, and starting down country on our horses.  It is a perilous business, but less so than staying here, under the circumstances.  If we never meet again we hope that you will forgive us, and wish you all good fortune.—­Yours sincerely and with much regret,

“T.  Clifford.”

The letter written, they saddled the horses which had been brought up for their inspection, and were found to be in good case, and fastened their scanty belongings, and as many cartridges as they could carry in packs behind their saddles.  Then, each of them armed with a rifle—­for during their long journeyings Benita had learned to shoot—­they mounted and made for the little side-entrance, as the main gate through which they had passed on their arrival was now built up.  This side-entrance, a mere slit in the great wall, with a precipitous approach, was open, for now that their fear of the Matabele had to some extent passed off, the Makalanga used it to drive their sheep and goats in and out, since it was so constructed with several twists and turns in the thickness of the wall, that in a few minutes it could be effectually blocked by stones that lay at hand.  Also, the ancient architect had arranged it in such a fashion that it was entirely commanded from the crest of the wall on either side.

The Makalanga, who had been watching their proceedings curiously, made no attempt to stop them, although they guessed that they might have a little trouble with the sentries who guarded the entrances all day, and even when it was closed at night, with whom also Mr. Clifford proposed to leave the letter.  When they reached the place, however, and had dismounted to lead the horses down the winding passage and the steep ascent upon its further side, it was to find that the only guard visible proved to be the old Molimo himself, who sat there, apparently half asleep.

But as they came he showed himself to be very much awake, for without moving he asked them at once whither they were going.