, pointing with his spear towards the approaching host;
and as the regiments formed up in columns and began their march, moving
out over the plain like huge black serpents, the war-song of Dingane
rolled forth like thunder upon the still and brooding air:

"Us'eziteni!
Asiyikuza sababona."

["Thou art in among the enemy.
_We_ shall never get a right of him."]

Louder and louder it swelled, uttered in fierce, jerky roars, as the
roars of ravening beasts who can no longer be restrained from their
prey. Then the red mist was before all eyes. The host of Nongalaza was
singing, too; but for that we had no ears, only eyes for the body of our
foe. Our warriors now swung forward at a run, the ranks steadied and
kept in line by the warning word of an induna, or a sub-captain.
Otherwise none spoke.

Now they are before us. Their appearance is even as that of ourselves.
They have the same shields, the same broad spears, the same discipline.
But their courage? Ha! We have that--we, the chosen, we, the faithful.
Now we are among them; there is the slap of shield meeting shield, the
tramp of struggling feet, the soft tearing of spear ripping flesh. Ha!
The red blood is flowing; warriors go down by hundreds--beaten to
earth--ripped as they lie--as many of ours as of theirs. The savage,
gargling groan of the dying, as they strive to drag themselves upward,
and, spear in hand, die fighting still--the death-hiss of their
slayers--the "_I-ji_!" that thrilling whistle that shakes the air--the
laboured panting of those who strive--the shiver and clash of hard wood
and the crunch of bone, as the heavy knob-sticks meet other hard wood,
or perchance a skull--these are the sounds that turn the air itself
verily warring. But neither side gives way--neither side yields a
foot's breadth--or, if so, it is but for a moment, to charge again in
renewed fury.

Again and again this happens. No advantage can either side gain. Both
strive with equal fury; both trained in valour and discipline under the
same training. _Whau_! there will be none left to tell of this battle,
so surely shall we make an end of each other.

Now I, with the Bapongqolo, being in command of the left "horn" of our
army, am striving to surround that of the enemy, though his numbers are
almost as great as our own, and in this I am partially succeeding. But
what is the other "horn" doing? By this time we have gained some
slightly rising ground, and now I