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Updated: June 28, 2025
Again Retief with a hundred followers waited upon Dingaan at Umgungundhlovu, and after military displays on each side received from him a grant of the same land which Chaka had already given to the British pioneers of Durban.
Now, I am sure I cannot say what would have happened, although I am quite certain that Pereira had no stomach for a duel with the redoubtable Retief, a man whose courage was as proverbial throughout the land as was his perfect uprightness of character.
She was thinking of a man who had formed a secret part of her life for a few short years, when she had allowed her heart to dictate a course for her actions which no other motive but that of love could have brought about. She was thinking of Peter Retief, a pretty scoundrel, a renowned "bad man," a man of wild and reckless daring. He had been the terror of the countryside.
The one you took the blame for?" "That's him, all right. He doesn't seem nervous any more, I notice." "You saved him from serious punishment," Magnan said. "He'll be grateful; he'll let us go." "Better check with the fellows with the knives before you act on that." "Say something to him," Magnan hissed, "Remind him." The lead man fell back in line with Retief and Magnan.
Horrocks, feeling himself freed, stepped quickly from the bush into the open, and faced about towards his liberator. As he did so he found himself looking up into the muzzle of Retief's revolver. He stood his ground unflinchingly. "Now, see hyar, pard," said Retief, quietly, "I've a mighty fine respect for you. You ain't the cuckoo that many o' yer mates is. You've got grit, anyway.
"Allemachte!" exclaimed Retief, "this is serious," and, as though to summon them to my help, he looked behind him towards the main body of the Boers, who by this time were nearly all of them through the gate, which was guarded by a great number of Zulus. "Allan," he went on, "if you are not afraid, I think that you must go.
Well, when I had been back from the Ghost Mountain something less than a moon, the Boers came, sixty of them commanded by a captain named Retief, a big man, and armed with roers the long guns they had in those days or, perhaps they numbered a hundred in all, counting their servants and after-riders.
A broad-shouldered man with graying hair pushed through the crowd and looked around. "You heard 'em, Kippy. Give," he said. The shill growled but tucked his knife away. Reluctantly he peeled a bill from a fat roll and handed it over. The newcomer looked from Retief to Magnan. "Pick another game, strangers," he said. "Kippy made a little mistake." "This is small-time stuff," Retief said.
She hesitated only for the fraction of a second, then she plunged into her story with a directness which was always hers. "This is Bad Man's Hollow he he was my half-brother." So the stories of the gossips were not true. Bill gave a comprehensive nod, but offered no comment. Her statement appeared to him to need none. It explained itself; she was speaking of Peter Retief.
When he had finished he looked up and said: "The charge against you, Allan Quatermain, is that, being one of the commission who recently visited the Zulu king Dingaan, under command of the late Governor and General Pieter Retief, you did falsely and wickedly urge the said Dingaan to murder the said Pieter Retief and his companions, and especially Henri Marais, your father-in-law, and Hernando Pereira, his nephew, with both of whom you had a quarrel.
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