.. yes, yes, it was Hilda, with Tant Mettie's baby!
In the fierce joy of that discovery I rushed forward to her, trembling,
and clasped her in my arms. I could find no words but "Hilda! Hilda!"
"Are they gone?" she asked, staring about her with a terrified air,
though still strangely preserving her wonted composure of manner.
"Who gone? The Matabele?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Did you see them, Hilda?"
"For a moment--with black shields and assegais, all shouting madly. You
have been to the house, Hubert? You know what has happened?"
"Yes, yes, I know--a rising. They have massacred the Klaases."
She nodded. "I came back on my bicycle, and, when I opened the door,
found Tant Mettie and little Sannie dead. Poor, sweet little Sannie! Oom
Jan was lying shot in the yard outside. I saw the cradle overturned,
and looked under it for the baby. They did not kill her--perhaps did not
notice her. I caught her up in my arms, and rushed out to my machine,
thinking to make for Salisbury, and give the alarm to the men there.
One must try to save others--and YOU were coming, Hubert! Then I
heard horses' hoofs--the Matabele returning. They dashed back,
mounted,--stolen horses from other farms,--they have taken poor Oom
Jan's,--and they have gone on, shouting, to murder elsewhere! I flung
down my machine among the bushes as they came,--I hope they have not
seen it,--and I crouched here between the boulders, with the baby in my
arms, trusting for protection to the colour of my dress, which is just
like the ironstone.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244