merged my Zulu servant； Mazooku。
It seemed that this last shot saved me； for really I do not know what would have happened if I had lain all night in that wet and frost； or if I should ever have found strength to get on my horse again in the morning。 Mazooku and other natives had been searching for me for hours； till at length all abandoned the quest except for Mazooku； who said that he would go on。 So he wandered about over the veld till at length his keen eyes caught sight of the flash from my rifle — he was much too far away to hear its report。 He walked in the direction of the flash for several miles； shouting as he came； till at length I answered him。
So； thanks to Mazooku； I escaped from that trouble； and； what is more； took no harm； either from the fall or the chill and exhaustion。 He was a very brave and faithful fellow； and； as this story shows； much attached to me。 I think that some instinct； lost to us but still remaining to savages； led him towards me over that mighty sea of uninhabited veld。 Or of course it may have been pure chance； though this seems improbable。 At any rate he found me and through the darkness led me back to the camp； which was miles away。 The vituperation of Kaffirs is a mon habit among many white men； but in difficulty or danger may I never have a worse friend at hand than one like the poor Kaffir who is prepared to die for the master whom he loves。
Ultimately the Pretoria Horse was disbanded。 So many British troops had been poured into Africa that the Boers； with their usual slimness； thought the time inopportune to push matters to the point of actual rebellion； and therefore dispersed to their homes to await a more favourable hour。 This came later when Sir Gar Wolseley； who； whatever his gifts； was not blessed with