So we went down to the Store, where I was thankful to find that everything had been tidied up in accordance with my directions.
On our way Robertson asked me what had become of the remains, whereon I pointed to the smouldering ashes of one of the great fires.

He went to it and kneeling down, said a prayer in broad Scotch, doubtless one that he had learned at his mother's knee.

Then he took some of the ashes from the edge of the pyre--for such it was--and threw them into the glowing embers where, as he knew, lay all that was left of those who had sprung from him.

Also he tossed others of them into the air, though what he meant by this I did not understand and never asked.

Probably it was some rite indicative of expiation or of revenge, or both, which he had learned from the savages among whom he had lived so long.
After this we went into the Store and with the help of some of the natives, or half-breeds, who had accompanied us on the sea-cow expedition, selected all the goods we wanted, which we sent to the house.
As we returned thither I saw Umslopogaas and his men engaged, with the usual Zulu ceremonies, in burying their two companions in a hole they had made in the hillside.