“Who are you?” asked a broad man in a leopard-skin cloak, of Sihamba; but although she was small and dishevelled, her hair and garments being wet with water, he did not laugh at her, for he saw that this stranger had the air of one who is of the blood of chiefs.

“I am Sihamba Ngenyanga, the doctoress, of whom you may have heard,” she answered; and some of the people said, “We have heard of her; she is a great doctoress.”

“To what people do you belong, Sihamba?” asked the captain again.

“I belong to the people of Zwide, whom Chaka drove from Zululand, and by birth I am a chieftainess of the Umpondwana, who live in the mountain Umpondwana, and who were the Children of Zwide, but are now the Children of Chaka.”

“Why then do you wander so far from home, Sihamba?”

“For this reason.  When Zwide and his people, the Endwandwe, were driven back, my people, the Umpondwana, who were subject to Zwide, made peace with Chaka against my will.  Therefore, because I would not live as a Zulu dog, I left them.”

“Although your body is small you have a large heart,” said the captain, and one of his people cried out:  “The story of Sihamba is true, for when you sent me as messenger to the Endwandwe, I heard it—­it is a tale there.”

Then the captain asked, “And who is the beautiful white woman who sits upon the great horse?”

“She is my mother and my sister and my mistress, whom I serve till death, for she saved me from death, and her name is Swallow.”

Now at this word Swallow, most of those present started, and some uttered exclamations of wonder, especially a little band of people, men and women, who stood to the left, and who from their dress and other tokens it was easy to see were witch-doctors and diviners.  Sihamba noted the movements and words of wonder, but pretending to see nothing she went on: 

“The lady Swallow and I have fled hither from far, hoping to find the chief Sigwe, for we need his counsel and protection, but he is away, making war to the north, is it not so?”

“Nay,” answered the captain.  “I am the chief Sigwe, and I have not yet begun my war.”

“I am glad,” said Sihamba.  “Chief, listen to my tale and suffer us to creep into the shadow of your strength——­” and in a few words she told them the story of the capture of Suzanne by Swart Piet and of their flight from him.  Now when she spoke of Van Vooren, or of Bull-Head rather, for she called him by his native name, she saw that Sigwe and the captains looked at each other, and when she told how they had swum the Red Water in flood, the two of them upon one horse, she was sure that they did not believe her, for such a deed they thought to be impossible.  But still Sihamba went on and ended—­“Chief, we seek this from you; protection from Bull-Head, who doubtless will be here ere long, and an escort of spears to lead us down the coast to the home of the Swallow, a hundred miles away, where they and you will be well rewarded for the service.  Answer us quick, chief, I pray you, for our need is great and we are weary.”