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Hendrik commenced hastily questioning the Bushman, while Arend did the same to the Kaffir, in the endeavour to get some information of what had so much mystified them. The questions "Where is Willem?" "Where are the cattle?" "Why did you leave the camp?" "Where are the Makololo?" were asked in rapid succession, and to all they received but one answer, the word "Yaas."
"And to-morrow, what shall we do then?" inquired Arend. "There may be no better chance of getting off than there is now." "That is true," said Willem. "We must think of some way of getting out of this disagreeable prison. Can any of you think of a plan?" "I have a proposal to make," said Hendrik. "Let one of us take to the water and look down stream for a landing-place.
Having given their captive the desired rest, during which it had displayed its good sense by remaining most of the time in quiet, the hunters prepared to drive it to their camp. Mounted on their horses, Arend and Hans each took the end of a rheim, which was fastened midway to its neck. They intended to ride a little in advance of the captive, keeping also some distance apart from each other.
If so, Hendrik and Arend within a few weeks would be in the society of those of whom they were hourly thinking, and Hans would be making preparations for the long-contemplated visit to Europe. The chief Macora had not shown the least inclination to abandon them on the failure of the first attempt.
"There is certainly great danger," said Hendrik; "but there is also danger of starvation if we stay here." "Quite true," rejoined Arend. "But for my part, I would rather feed a crocodile than die of hunger myself. So I'm willing to risk the swim.
Willem compelled Congo, who had now been thirty-six hours without food, to mount upon his own horse; but this the Kaffir would consent to do only on the condition that he would be allowed to take Spoor'em up along with him. They at once started away from the spot, and by an early hour of the following morning reached the camp, where Hans, Arend, and the others had remained.
For many hours the young hunter waited patiently for it to move away in search of food or any other object except that of revenge; but in this hope he was disappointed. The pain inflicted by the shots would not allow either hunger or thirst to interfere with the desire for retaliation, and it continued to maintain a watch so vigilant that Arend dared not leave his retreat for an instant.
"What does it mean, Arend?" jocosely inquired Hendrik. "Has this brute been pursuing you for the last twelve hours?" "Yes." "And how much longer do you think the chase would have continued?" "About ten seconds," replied Arend, speaking in a very positive tone. "Very well," said Hendrik, who was so rejoiced at the deliverance of his friend that he felt inclined to be witty.
What if some accident should have occurred to Arend, and prevented his return to the camp? What if Groot Willem and the others should have strayed, and not find their way back to the place for two or three days? He had heard of such events happening to other stupid white men, and why not to them?
"Willem will kill a buffalo, and insist on our staying to eat it." "Very likely," said Hendrik; "but I don't see why he should have all the sport to himself." Leaping into their saddles Hendrik and Arend rode after Willem, and were followed by two of the Makololo mounted on oxen. The patient and philosophical Hans remained behind, to await their return.
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