fence of it was none other
than the Bee herself. At the sight of her the exhausted horse swerved
violently, stumbled and came to the ground, where it lay panting. Hadden
was thrown from the saddle but sprang to his feet unhurt.

"Ah! Black Heart, is it you? What news of the battle, Black Heart?"
cried the Bee in a mocking voice.

"Help me, mother, I am pursued," he gasped.

"What of it, Black Heart, it is but by one tired man. Stand then and
face him, for now Black Heart and White Heart are together again. You
will not? Then away to the forest and seek shelter among the dead who
await you there. Tell me, tell me, was it the face of Nanea that I saw
beneath the waters a while ago? Good! bear my greetings to her when you
two meet in the House of the Dead."

Hadden looked at the stream; it was in flood. He could not swim it,
so followed by the evil laugh of the prophetess, he sped towards the
forest. After him came Nahoon, his tongue hanging from his jaws like the
tongue of a wolf.

Now he was in the shadow of the forest, but still he sped on following
the course of the river, till at length his breath failed, and he halted
on the further side of a little glade, beyond which a great tree grew.
Nahoon was more than a spear's throw behind him; therefore he had time
to draw his pistol and make ready.

"Halt, Nahoon," he cried, as once before he had cried; "I would speak
with you."

The Zulu heard his voice, and obeyed.

"Listen," said Hadden. "We have run a long race and fought a long fight,
you and I, and we are still alive both of us. Very soon, if you come on,
one of us must be dead, and it will be you, Nahoon, for I am armed and
as you know I can shoot straight. What do you say?"

Nahoon made no answer, but stood still at the edge of the glade, his
wild and glowering eyes fixed on the white man's face and his breath
coming in short gasps.

"Will you let me go, if _I_ let _you_ go?" Hadden asked once more. "I
know why you hate me, but the past cannot be undone, nor can the dead be
brought to earth again."

Still Nahoon made no answer, and his silence seemed more fateful and
more crushing than any speech; no spoken accusation would have been so
terrible in Hadden's ear. He made no answer, but lifting his assegai he
stalked grimly toward his foe.

When he was within five paces Hadden covered him and fired. Nahoon
sprang aside, but the bullet struck him somewhere, for his right
arm dropped, and the stabbing sp