As they advanced side by side towards the
open gate, something leapt the stoep and rushed through it. It was a
striped hyena; they could see the hair bristle on its back as it passed
them with a whining growl. Hand in hand they ran to the house across the
little garden patch--Rachel, led by some instinct, guiding her companion
straight to her parents' room whereof the windows, that opened like doors,
stood wide as the gate had done.
One more moment and they were there; another, and the moonlight showed
them all.
For a long while--to Richard it seemed hours--Rachel said nothing; only
stood still like the statue of a woman, staring at those cold faces that
looked back at her through the unearthly moonlight. Indeed, it was Richard
who spoke first, feeling that if he did not this dreadful silence would
choke him or cause him to faint.
"The Zulus have murdered them," he said hoarsely, glancing at the dead
Kaffir on the floor.
"No," she answered in a cold, small voice; "Ishmael, Ishmael!" and she
pointed to something that lay at his feet.
Richard stooped and picked it up. It was a fly wisp of rhinoceros horn
which the man had let fall when the Zulu's spear struck him.
"I know it," she went on; "he always carried it.
Pages:
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287