ery two took a torch and lit it at a fire that burned near the mouth
of the cave. Then they rushed in, waving the flaring torches and with
assegais aloft. Here for the last time the Halakazi stood against them,
and the torches floated up and down upon the wave of war. But they did
not stand for very long, for all the heart was out of them. Wow! yes,
many were killed--I do not know how many. I know this only, that the
Halakazi are no more a tribe since Umslopogaas, who is named Bulalio,
stamped them with his feet--they are nothing but a name now. The People
of the Axe drove them out into the open and finished the fight by
starlight among the cattle.

In one corner of the cave Umslopogaas saw a knot of men clustering round
something as though to guard it. He rushed at the men, and with him went
Galazi and others. But when Umslopogaas was through, by the light of his
torch he perceived a tall and slender man, who leaned against the wall
of the cave and held a shield before his face.

"You are a coward!" he cried, and smote with Groan-Maker. The great axe
pierced the hide, but, missing the head behind, rang loudly against the
rock, and as it struck a sweet voice said:--

"Ah! soldier, do not kill me! Why are you angry with me?"

Now the shield had come away from its holder's hands upon the blade of
the axe, and there was something in the notes of the voice that caused
Umslopogaas to smite no more: it was as though a memory of childhood
had come to him in a dream. His torch was burning low, but he thrust it
forward to look at him who crouched against the rock. The dress was the
dress of a man, but this was no man's form--nay, rather that of a lovely
woman, well-nigh white in colour. She dropped her hands from before her
face, and now he could see her well. He saw eyes that shone like stars,
hair that curled and fell upon the shoulders, and such beauty as was not
known among our people. And as the voice had spoken to him of something
that was lost, so did the eyes seem to shine across the blackness of
many years, and the beauty to bring back he knew not what.

He looked at the girl in all her loveliness, and she looked at him in
his fierceness and his might, red with war and wounds. They both looked
long, while the torchlight flared on them, on the walls of the cave, and
the broad blade of Groan-Maker, and from around rose the sounds of the
fray.

"How are you named, who are so fair to see?" he asked at length.

"I am