was satisfied.
The last of the four journals was only partially filled, and contained a detailed description of a caravan route running from 'the blood-soaked lands where Mzilikazils evil impis hold sway' eastwards five hundred miles or more 'to where the reeking ships of the traders surely wait to welcome the poor souls who survive the hazards of this infamous road'. I have followed the road as far as the eastern rampart of mountains, and always the evidence of the passing of the caravans is there for all the world to see. That grisly evidence which I have come to know so well, the bleaching bones and the circling vultures. Is there not a corner of this savage continent which is free from the ravages of the traders? ' These revelations would interest Robyn more than they did him. Zouga glanced through them swiftly and then marked them for her attention. There was a great deal on slavery and the traders, a hundred pages or more and then the penultimate entry. We have today come up with a caravan of slaves, winding through the hilly country towards the east. I have counted the miserable victims from afar, using the telescope and there are almost a hundred of them, mostly half-grown children and young women. They are yoked together in pairs with forked tree trunks about their necks in the usual manner. The slave-masters are black men, I have been unable to descry either Arabs or men of European extraction amongst them. Although they wear no tribal insignia, no plumes nor regalia, I have no doubt they are Amandebele, for their physique is distinctive, and they come from.
the direction of that tyrant Mzilikazi's kingdom. They are furthermore armed with the broad bladed stabbing spear and long ox-hide shields of that people, while two or three of them carry trade muskets. At this moment they are encamped not more than a league from where I lie, and in the dawn they will continue their fateful journey towards the east where the Arab and Portuguese slave-masters no doubt wait to purchase the miserable human cattle and load them like cargo for the cruel voyage half across the world. God has spoken to me, clearly I have heard his voice as he enjoined me to go down, and, like his sword, cut down the ungodly, free the slaves and minister to the meek and the innocent.
Joseph is with me, that true and trusted companion of the years, and he will be well able to serve my second gun. His marksmanship is not of the best, but he has courage and God will be with us.'
The next entry was the last. Zouga had come to the end of the four journals. God's ways are wonderful and mysterious, passing all understanding. He lifteth up and he casteth down. With Joseph beside me I went down, as God had commanded, to the camp of the slave-masters. We fell upon them, even as the Israelites fell upon the Philistines. At first it seemed that we must prevail for the ungodly fled before us. Then God in all his knowing wisdom deserted us.
One of the ungodly leapt upon Joseph while he was reloading, and though I put a ball through his chest he impaled poor Joseph from breast bone to spine with that terrible spear, before himself falling dead. Alone I carried on the fight, God's fight, and the slavemasters scattered into the forest before my wrath. Then one of them turned and at extreme range fired his musket in my direction. The ball struck me in the hip. I managed, I do not know how, to drag myself away before the slave-masters returned to slay me. They did not attempt to follow me, and I have regained the shelter which I left to make the attempt. However, I am sorely smitten and reduced to dire straits. I have managed to remove the musket ball from my own hip, but I fear the bone is cracked through and I am crippled. In addition I have lost both my firearms, Joseph's musket lies with him where he fell, and I was so badly hurt as to be unable to carry my weapon off the field. I sent the woman back to find them, but they have been carried away by the slave-traders. My remaining porters, seeing the state to which I have been reduced and knowing that I could not prevent it, have all deserted, but not before they had looted the camp and carried away almost everything of value, not excluding my medicine chest. Only the woman remains.
I was angry at first when she attached herself to my party, but now I see God's hand in this, for although she is a heathen, yet she is loyal and true beyond all others, now that Joseph is dead. What is a man in this cruel land without a musket or quinine? Is there a lesson in this for me and posterity, a lesson that God has chosen me to teach? Can a white man live here? Will he not always be the alien, and will Africa tolerate him once he has lost his weapons and expended his medicines? ' Then a single poignant cry of agony. Oh God, has this all been in vain? I came to bring your Word and nobody has listened to my voice. I came to change the ways of the wicked and nothing is changed. I came to open a way for Christianity, and no Christian has followed me. Please, my God, give me a sign that I have not followed the wrong road to a false destination.'
Zouga leaned back and rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. He found himself deeply moved, his eyes stinging not only from fatigue.
Fuller Ballantyne was an easy man to hate, but a hard man to despise.
Robyn chose the place with care. The secluded pools on the river, away from the main camp, where nobody could overlook or overhear them. She chose the time, in the heat of midday, when most of the Hottentots and all the porters would be asleep in the shade. She had given Fuller five drops of the precious laudanum to quiet him, and left him with the Mashona girl and Juba to care for him while she went down the hill to Zouga.
They had barely exchanged a dozen words during the ten days since he had caught up with her. in all that time he had not returned to the cave on the hilltop, and she had seen him only once when she had gone down to the river camp for supplies.
When she had sent Juba down with a tersely worded note, demanding the return of Fuller's tin chest of papers, he had sent a porter with it immediately. In fact, with such alacrity that Robyn was immediately suspicious.
This distrust was a symptom of their rapidly deteriorating relationship. She knew that she and Zouga must talk, must discuss the future, before the opportunity to talk was past.
He was waiting for her beside the green river pools, as she had asked him to be, sitting in the mottled shade beneath a wild fig tree, quietly smoking a hand-rolled cheroot of native tobacco. He stood up courteously as soon as he saw her, but his expression was reserved and his eyes guarded.
I do not have much time, Zouga dear. ' Robyn tried to lessen the tension between them by using the small endearment, and Zouga nodded gravely. 'I must get back to Pater. She hesitated. 'I did not want to ask you to come up the hill since you find it distasteful. ' She saw the green sparks in his eyes kindle immediately, and went on quickly. 'We must decide what we should do now. Obviously we cannot stay on here indefinitely. 'What do you suggest? 'Pater is much stronger. I have subdued the malaria with quinine and the other disease, she worded it tactfully, 'has responded to the mercury. It is only the leg that truly worries me now. 'You told me he was dying. ' Zouga reminded her levelly, and she could not help herself, despite her good intentions she flared at him. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, then Zouga's face stiffened into a handsome, bronzed mask.
She could see the effort it took him to control his own temper, and his voice was thick with it as he answered. That's not worthy of you. 'I'm sorry, she agreed, and drew a deep breath.
'Zouga, he has rallied strongly. Food and medicine, care and his own natural strength have made an immense difference.
I am even convinced that if we could get him to civilization to a skilled surgeon, we could cure the ulceration of his leg, and possibly even induce the bone to mend!
