s glad to hear it, because these needed saving,
since most of the Sisa people were now servants of the devil. Since the
last _Umfundisi_, or Teacher died, they had been walking the road
to hell at a very great pace, marrying many wives, drinking gin and
practising all kinds of witchcraft under the guidance of the _Isanusi_
or doctor, Menzi. This man, he added, had burned down the church and the
mission-house by his magic, though these had seemed to be destroyed by
lightning.

With a proud gesture Thomas announced that he would soon settle Menzi
and all his works, and that meanwhile, as the darkness was coming on,
he would be glad if Kosa would lead them to the place where they were to
sleep.

So they started, the accordion-man, playing execrably, leading the way,
and trekked for about a mile and a half till they came to the koppie in
the centre of the plain, reaching it by following the left bank of the
river that washed its western face.

Passing between a number of tumbled walls built of loose stones, that
once in bygone generations had sheltered the cattle of Chaka and other
Zulu kings, they reached a bay in the side of the koppie that may
have covered four acres of ground. Here by the edge of the river, but
standing a little above it, were the burnt-out ruins of a building that
by its shape had evidently been a church, and near to it other ruins of
a school and of a house which once was the mission-station.

As they approached they heard swelling from within those cracked and
melancholy walls the sound of a fierce, defiant chant which Thomas
guessed must be some ancient Zulu war-song, as indeed it was. It was
a very impressive song, chanted by many people, which informed the
listeners that those who sung it were the King's oxen, born to kill
the King's enemies, and to be killed for the King, and so forth; a
deep-noted, savage song that thrilled the blood, at the first sound of
which the accordion gave a feeble wail and metaphorically expired.

"Isn't that beautiful music, Father. I never heard anything like that
before," exclaimed Tabitha.

Before Thomas could answer, out from the ruined doorway of the Church
issued a band of men--there might have been a hundred of them--clad in
all the magnificent panoply of old-time Zulu warriors, with tall plumes
upon their heads, large shields upon their arms, kilts about their
middles, and fringes of oxtails hanging from their knees and elbows.
They formed into a dou