Dove, indignantly. "Of course I
know that there are risks among all wild peoples, but I trust to
Providence to protect us."
Mr. Ishmael puffed at his pipe and swore to himself in Zulu.
"Yes," he said, when he had recovered a little, "so I suppose did Seyapi
and his people, but you have been burying them this afternoon--haven't
you?--all except the girl, Noie, whom you have sheltered, for which deed
Dingaan will bury you all if you go into Zululand, or rather throw you to
the vultures. Don't think that your being an _umfundusi_, I mean a
teacher, will save you. The Almighty Himself can't save you there. You
will be dead and forgotten in a month. What's more, you will have to drive
your own waggon in, for your Kaffirs won't, they know better. A Bible
won't turn the blade of an assegai."
"Please, Mr. Ishmael, please do not speak so--so irreligiously," said Mr.
Dove in an irritated but nervous voice. "You do not seem to understand
that I have a mission to perform, and if that should involve
martyrdom----"
"Oh! bother martyrdom, which is what you are after, no doubt, 'casting
down your golden crown upon a crystal sea,' and the rest of it--I remember
the stuff. The question is, do you wish to murder your wife and daughter,
for that's the plain English of it?"
"Of course not.
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