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over those that descended。 Why had these dead people returned； Benita
wondered。
The stair had ended； now she was in a kind of natural cave； for its
sides and roof were rugged； moreover； water trickled and dripped from
them。 It was not very large； and it smelt horribly of mud and other
things。 Again she searched by the feeble light of her candle； but
could see no exit。 Suddenly she saw something else； however； for
stepping on what she took to be a rock； to her horror it moved beneath
her。 She heard a snap as of jaws； a violent blow upon the leg nearly
knocked her off her feet； and as she staggered backwards she saw a
huge and loathsome shape rushing away into the darkness。 The rock that
she had trodden on was a crocodile which had its den here！ With a
little scream she retreated to her stair。 Death she had expectedbut
to be eaten by crocodiles！
Yet as Benita stood there panting a blessed hope rose in her breast。
If a crocodile came in there it must also get out； and where such a
great creature could go； a woman would be able to follow。 Also； she
must be near the water； since otherwise it could never have chosen
this hole for its habitation。 She collected her courage； and having
clapped her hands and waved the lantern about to scare any alligators
that might still be lurking there； hearing and seeing nothing more；
she descended to where she had trodden upon the reptile。 Evidently
this was its bed； for its long body had left an impress upon the mud；
and all about lay the remains of creatures that it had brought in for
food。 Moreover； a path ran outwards； its well…worn trail distinct even
in that light。
She followed this path； which ended apparently in a blank wall。 Then
it was that Benita guessed why those dead folks' footprints had
returned； for here had been a doorway which in some past age those who
used it built up with blocks of stone and cement。 How； then； did the
crocodile get out？ Stooping down she searched； and perceived； a few
yards to the right of the door； a hole that looked as though it were
water…worn。 Now Benita thought that she understood。 The rock was
softer here； and centuries of flood had eaten it away； leaving a crack
in the stratum which the crocodiles had found out and enlarged。 Down
she went on her hands and knees； and thrusting the lantern in front of
her； crept along that noisome drain； for this was what it resembled。
And nowoh！ now she felt air blowing in her face； and heard the sound
of reeds whispering； and water running； and saw hanging like a lamp in
the blue sky； a starthe morning star！ Benita could have wept； she
could have worshipped it； yet she pushed on between rocks till she
found herself among tall reeds； and standing in water。 She had gained
the banks of the Zambesi。
Instantly； by instinct as it were； Benita extinguished her candle；
fearing lest it should betray her； for constant danger had made her
very cunning。 The dawn had not yet broken； but the waning moon and the
stars gave a good light。 She paused to look。 There above her towered
the outermost wall of Bambatse； against which the river washed； except
at such times as the present； when it was very low。
So she was not in the fortress as she had hoped； but without it； and
oh！ what should she do？ Go back again？ How would that serve her father
or herself？ Go on？ Then she might fall into the hands of the Matabele
whose camp was a little lower down； as from her perch upon the top of
the cone she had seen that poor white man do。 Ah！ the white man！ If
only he lived and she could reach him！ Perhaps they had not killed him
after all。 It was madness； yet she would try to discover； something
impelled her to take the risk。 If she failed and escaped； perhaps then
she might call to the Makalanga； and they would let down a rope and
draw her up the wall before the Matabele caught her。 She would not go
back empty…handed； to die in that dreadful place with her poor father。
Better perish here in the sweet air and beneath the stars； even if it
were upon a Matabele spear； or by a bullet from her own pistol。
She looked about her to take her bearings in case it should ever be
necessary for her to return to the entrance of the cave。 This proved
easy； for a hundred or so feet above herwhere the sheer face of the
cliff jutted out a little； at that very spot indeed on which tradition
said that the body of the Se？ora da Ferreira had struck in its fall；
and the necklace Benita wore to…day was torn from hera stunted
mimosa grew in some cleft of the rock。 To mark the crocodile run
itself she bent down a bunch of reeds； and having first lit a few
Tandstickor brimstone matches and thrown them about inside of it； that
the smell of them might scare the beast should it wish to return； she
set her lantern behind a stone near to the mouth of the hole。
Then Benita began her journey which； when the river was high； it would
not have been possible for her to make except by swimming。 As it was；
a margin of marsh was left between her and the steep； rocky side of
the mount from which the great wall rose； and through this she made
her way。 Never was she likely to forget that walk。 The tall reeds
dripped their dew upon her until she was soaked； long； black…tailed
finchessaccaboolas the natives call themflew up undisturbed； and
lobbed away across the river； owls flitted past and bitterns boomed at
the coming of the dawn。 Great fish splashed also in the shallows； or
were they crocodiles？ Benita hoped notfor one day she had seen
enough of crocodiles。
It was all very strange。 Could she be the same woman； she wondered；
who not a year before had been walking with her cousins down
Westbourne Grove； and studying Whiteley's windows？ What would these
cousins say now if they could see her； white…faced； large…eyed；
desperate； splashing through the mud upon the unknown banks of the
Zambesi； flying from death to death！
On she struggled； above her the pearly sky in which the stars were
fading； around her the wet reeds； and pervading all the heavy low…
lying mists of dawn。 She was past the round of the walls； and at
length stood upon dry ground where the Matabele had made their camp。
But in that fog she saw no Matabele； probably their fires were out；
and she chanced to pass between the sentries。 Instinctively； more than
by reason； she headed for that hillock upon which she had seen the
white man's waggon； in the vague hope that it might still be there。 On
she struggled； still on； till at length she blundered against
something soft and warm； and perceived that it was an ox tied to a
trek…tow； beyond which were other oxen and a white waggon…cap。
So it /was/ still there！ But the white man； where was he？ Through the
dense mist Benita crept to the disselboom。 Then； seeing and hearing
nothing； she climbed to the voorkissie and kneeling on it； separated
the tent flaps and peered into the waggon。 Still she could see nothing
because of the mist； yet she heard som