his army, crying aloud that
they should make an end of us, at all events. So seeing the rebel
host--which now was stronger than we--sweeping up to surround us, I gave
the word to retreat, and not too soon either, for we had to fight our
way through the closing "horns." But the land on that side was broken,
and seamed with dongas; and Nongalaza's people, tumbling over each other
in their hurry and confusion, were less quick than we. Yet many were
slain in that rout, and ere night fell the land seemed alive with
pursuers and pursued. But I set my face in the direction of the Ngome
forests, where my outlawry had been spent. There, I knew, were holes
and retreats wherein not all the men of Nongalaza twice over would
succeed in finding me.

And, as night fell, the dull red glow of burning kraals lit up the land,
and from afar you could hear the exultant war-song--the song of victory.
Yet not altogether, for the song of Mpande was the song of bondage too,
in that he, a prince of the House of Senzangakona, had purchased his
kingship dear; for he had purchased it at the price of doing _konza_ to
the Amabuna, in order to be allowed to hold it--in order to sit in the
seat of Tshaka the Mighty, and of the warrior-king Dingane, who,
however, might even yet be heard of again.

The slaughter on either side that day was immense, _Nkose_. Yet not by
might or by bravery did Nongalaza win that victory. Oh, no! He won it
by a trick. Had he not cried that the Amabuna were at hand, we should
not have given way. But up till then we had gained no great advantage,
and the approach of these people, who could gallop into our very midst
and discharge their guns without harm to themselves, took all heart out
of our warriors, already hard pressed by the forces of Nongalaza, nearly
equal as these were to our own. So we fled, and lost the day. Yet we
need not have, for the Amabuna were not really coming. But a good
general will despise no method of snatching a victory, and Nongalaza was
right.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A HARD ORDEAL.

"Waken, Untuswa!"

The whisper was soft, so, too, was the touch, yet I sprang to my feet,
grasping my spear. But at the same moment my grasp on it relaxed, for
before me stood Lalusini.

Wearied with the hard fierce fighting of the day, I had crept into a
secure hiding-place beneath a rock overhung with all manner of
undergrowth, and had slept soundly. Yet my dreams had been full of
warring an