ifles.

Just as a crowd of white men came streaming across the ground, and as
Leigh was about to raise his rifle with the view of checking their
advance, a voice behind him said, "Give me a turn at that, Alf; I long
to get even with yonder blasphemous slaving hound. He tarred and
feathered me one day."

Leigh knew the voice, and turning quickly, confronted his long-lost
Cousin Dick. One warm hand-grasp was all, then the tears started to his
eyes, as he relinquished his gun and strode away.

Dick Grenville! But alas! how changed--feeble, emaciated, and
hollow-eyed, covered with filth, and clad in the skin of a leopard.
Leigh had actually taken his own cousin for a very ordinary-looking
black man, but the old spirit, unbroken by Mormons or slavers, was still
there--the eye as true, and the hand firm as a grip of steel. Springing
forward, he shook the weapon over his head, and his voice went ringing
across the rock-bound stretch of veldt, as he called to the leader of
the advancing crowd, "Crewdson Walworth, I promised you this a year ago,
and here it is--a Grenville ever keeps his word." The rifle vomited its
deadly contents, and the man, who was none other than Kenyon's quondam
acquaintance, the "Swell" of Durban, went down, with a bullet through
his heart, and pitched head over heels like a shot rabbit.

Kenyon coolly followed up the shot, and the repeaters fairly opened a
lane in the approaching crowd, who fired wildly into the bush without
doing any serious damage, and in another moment, to the number of about
twenty, were busy scrambling up the rock, whilst Leigh, Grenville and
Kenyon emptied rifle and revolver into their ranks at point-blank range.
Suddenly Leigh heard another well-remembered voice. "Let my father,"
it said, "give Amaxosa a little space, that the child of the Undi may
revenge himself, and slay these evil-minded men;" and moving to one
side, Leigh saw his oft-tried comrade-in-arms, the proud young Zulu
chief, walk coolly to the very verge of the platform, with a mighty mass
of rock poised in his powerful arms. For one brief instant he stood
thus, while his keen eye played over the hated forms of his late
masters; then with a wild, earth-shaking shout he plunged the enormous
missile right into the midst of the enemy where they were most closely
massed together, bearing them backwards to the ground a bleeding,
senseless pulp of human flesh and bones.

The revolvers quickly accounted for the