can see. Ha! Can it be? Those on
that side are fighting against us--fighting against their own brethren--
fighting against their King. _They have gone over to the side of
Nongalaza_.

But, so far from disheartening our people, this traitorous defection
acts differently. Umhlela, watching and partly directing the battle
from a little distance off, gives the word, and himself at the head of
the force he has been holding in reserve, charges furiously upon these
traitors, rolling them back upon the thick of Nongalaza's force, and
throwing the latter into confusion. Umhlela is a small man and old, but
never was there a braver one. He is in the hottest of the battle, and
they whom he leads follow like lions. The tossing of shields, and the
tramp and pushing of striving feet, shakes both earth and air. Ha!
Umhlela is down. A wounded warrior, supposed to be dead, has sprung to
his feet, and with last stroke has cleft the brave induna through the
heart. But the rallying cry on the dying lips: "On, children of Zulu!
The Lion watches you," thrills our people with renewed strength. Now we
gain. The rebels are giving way. Now is the time. We press them
harder and harder. Not hundreds now, but thousands lie slain, or
writhing in death-throes. They are beginning to withdraw. The day is
ours.

Is it? Ha! What is that shout, gathering in volume as it rolls along
behind the rebel army--heartening those in front to face us more
fiercely.

"They come, the Amabuna! The Amabuna are at hand!"

We who hear it can see Nongalaza riding on horseback along his rank--he
and other of Mpande's indunas--and with shout and gesture they point
behind them, then wave their men on. And in the distance can be heard
the rattle of the discharge of guns.

"They come, the Amabuna!"

That cry loses us the day. The younger regiments waver, fall into
confusion, and flee. The men of the Imbele-bele--a splendid ringed
regiment--stand their ground. So, too, do the Bapongqolo. Then we have
work to do. One glance behind us, and we can see the land covered with
fleeing fugitives; but the spot whence the King watched the battle is
empty. We have saved the King.

Well, we are doomed. Thick and fast our warriors fall, being hugely
outnumbered, and it wants but the coming of the Amabuna to make an end
of us completely.

Now Nongalaza came riding along in my direction, where I, at the head of
the Bapongqolo, stood at bay, and waved on