First it was suggested that we should trek to Lorenzo Marquez, and wait for a ship there to take us down to Natal, for none of them would hear of returning beggared to the Cape to tell the story of their failure and dreadful bereavements.

I pointed out, however, that no ship might come for a long while, perhaps for one or two years, and that Lorenzo Marquez and its neighborhood seemed to be a poisonous place to live in! The next idea was that we should stop where we were, one which I rather welcomed, as I should have been glad to abide in peace with Marie until the six months of probation had gone by.
However, in the end this was rejected for many good reasons.

Thus half a score of white people, of whom four were members of a single family, were certainly not strong enough to form a settlement, especially as the surrounding natives might become actively hostile at any moment.

Again, the worst fever season was approaching, in which we should very possibly all be carried off.

Further, we had no breeding cattle or horses, which would not live in this veld, and only the ammunition and goods that I had brought with me.
So it was clear that but one thing remained to be done, namely, to trek back to what is now the Transvaal territory, or, better still, to Natal, for this route would enable us to avoid the worst of the mountains.
There we might join some other party of the emigrant Boers--for choice, that of Retief, of whose arrival over the Drakensberg I was able to tell them.
That point settled, we made our preparations.