"
As soon as the gun bearers disappeared in the jungle beyond the
village the two Europeans followed along the same trail, nor was
there any attempt upon the part of Obergatz' native soldiers, or
the warriors of the chief to detain them, for they too doubtless
were more than willing that the whites should bring them in one
more mess of meat before they killed them.
A quarter of a mile from the village, Obergatz turned toward the
south from the trail that led to the ford and hurrying onward the
two put as great a distance as possible between them and the village
before night fell. They knew from the habits of their erstwhile
hosts that there was little danger of pursuit by night since the
villagers held Numa, the lion, in too great respect to venture
needlessly beyond their stockade during the hours that the king of
beasts was prone to choose for hunting.
And thus began a seemingly endless sequence of frightful days and
horror-laden nights as the two fought their way toward the south
in the face of almost inconceivable hardships, privations, and
dangers. The east coast was nearer but Obergatz positively refused
to chance throwing himself into the hands of the British by returning
to the territory which they now controlled, insisting instead upon
attempting to make his way through an unknown wilderness to South
Africa where, among the Boers, he was convinced he would find willing
sympathizers who would find some way to return him in safety to
Germany, and the woman was perforce compelled to accompany him.
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