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He had died some weeks before, leaving his daughter Ma-Mochisane in full authority at the head of the Makololo nation. Macora was no longer afraid of returning to his nation. His only fear, now, was that the Matabili might come up in such strength as to destroy all chance of his ever revisiting his native land.
There was plenty of game in the immediate neighbourhood; but the chief strongly protested against the firing of guns, lest the sounds should betray their presence in the place. Several giraffes had been seen in the mimosa groves, and the banks of the river were marked with their spoor. Macora objected to their being alarmed, as it would drive them away before the pen could be got ready for them.
For two hours the hostile parties on both sides of the river remained without further strife, except that which might be called a war of words. Threats and taunting speeches were freely exchanged, and mutual invitations to come across, none of which was accepted. It was at length determined by Macora and his people to leave the place, and proceed after the retreating tribe.
He informed the hunters, that one day's journey down this stream would take him to the ruins of the village where he had been born and had lived until within the last two or three years, and his desire to see his native place was about to be gratified. On one thing Macora could congratulate himself. The chief Moselekatse, by driving him from his country, had profited but little.
Their anxious vigil was at length rewarded. Near the hour of noon their ears were greeted by shouts, and shortly after they saw Hans, Congo, and Macora standing on the bank above them. The chief was accompanied by about a score of his followers, carrying long ropes by the direction of Congo. "Where is Hendrik?" was the first question of Hans, asked in a trembling voice.
This Macora declared was not necessary. He was quite certain that they would be found by the time the trap was ready for receiving them. He also advised the hunters to refrain from molesting any giraffes they might see before the inclosure should be completed, which, according to his calculation, would be in about two weeks.
They were told that within one day's journey to the west, there was a large forest of cameel-doorn, where giraffes were often seen, and they determined to pay this forest a visit. Macora had become a great favourite at court; and, having the business on hand of establishing his tribe in a new home, he could not accompany them.
At the first glance Macora saw the advantage of his position, and encouraged his men to hold it. Not one of a dozen of the Matabili, who strove to enter the ravine, succeeded in getting up its slippery sides. Without a firm footing their assegais and shields could not be used to any advantage; and their dead bodies were soon swept off by the current of the river.
Macora admitted that his own people were not cowards, but that he could not maintain a war against such a king as Moselekatse. He was quite certain that, should they make a stand and give battle to the foe, at least one half of his tribe would be killed.
Willem further urged, that had he, Macora, really been lost, some one of the tribe would have become chief, and that Sindo was not to blame for aspiring to resemble one who had ruled to the evident satisfaction of all.