In fact, if he could in any way manage it, it was his intention to make
a dash for the border on the following night. To do this with a good
prospect of success, however, it was necessary that he should kill a
buffalo, or some other head of game. Then, as he knew well, the hunters
with him would feast upon meat until they could scarcely stir, and that
would be his opportunity. Nahoon, however, might not succumb to this
temptation; therefore he must trust to luck to be rid of him. If it came
to the worst, he could put a bullet through him, which he considered
he would be justified in doing, seeing that in reality the man was his
jailor. Should this necessity arise, he felt indeed that he could face
it without undue compunction, for in truth he disliked Nahoon; at times
he even hated him. Their natures were antagonistic, and he knew that the
great Zulu distrusted and looked down upon him, and to be looked down
upon by a savage "nigger" was more than his pride could stomach.
At the first break of dawn Hadden rose and roused his escort, who were
still stretched in sleep around the dying fire, each man wrapped in his
kaross or blanket.
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