ff his feet, and down they came together, rolling
over and over on the lime paving, Twala striking out at Curtis' head
with the battle-axe, and Sir Henry trying to drive the _tolla_ he had
drawn from his belt through Twala's armour.

It was a mighty struggle, and an awful thing to see.

"Get his axe!" yelled Good; and perhaps our champion heard him.

At any rate, dropping the _tolla_, he snatched at the axe, which was
fastened to Twala's wrist by a strip of buffalo hide, and still rolling
over and over, they fought for it like wild cats, drawing their breath
in heavy gasps. Suddenly the hide string burst, and then, with a great
effort, Sir Henry freed himself, the weapon remaining in his hand.
Another second and he was upon his feet, the red blood streaming from
the wound in his face, and so was Twala. Drawing the heavy _tolla_ from
his belt, he reeled straight at Curtis and struck him in the breast.
The stab came home true and strong, but whoever it was who made that
chain armour, he understood his art, for it withstood the steel. Again
Twala struck out with a savage yell, and again the sharp knife
rebounded, and Sir Henry went staggering back. Once more Twala came on,
and as he came our great Englishman gathered himself together, and
swinging the big axe round his head with both hands, hit at him with
all his force.

There was a shriek of excitement from a thousand throats, and, behold!
Twala's head seemed to spring from his shoulders: then it fell and came
rolling and bounding along the ground towards Ignosi, stopping just as
his feet. For a second the corpse stood upright; then with a dull crash
it came to the earth, and the gold torque from its neck rolled away
across the pavement. As it did so Sir Henry, overpowered by faintness
and loss of blood, fell heavily across the body of the dead king.

In a second he was lifted up, and eager hands were pouring water on his
face. Another minute, and the grey eyes opened wide.

He was not dead.

Then I, just as the sun sank, stepping to where Twala's head lay in the
dust, unloosed the diamond from the dead brows, and handed it to Ignosi.

"Take it," I said, "lawful king of the Kukuanas--king by birth and
victory."

Ignosi bound the diadem upon his brows. Then advancing, he placed his
foot upon the broad chest of his headless foe and broke out into a
chant, or rather a paean of triumph, so beautiful, and yet so utterly
savage, that I despair of being able to give a