force if it should fail to repel the might of
these!

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Note 1.

"Come behold come behold at the High Place!
That is the tale--the tale of the spears.
That is the tale? The tale of the nations?
Nobody knows.
Come behold. That is the tale.
The tale of Matyobane."

"Jji-jji!" is the cry uttered on closing in battle.

CHAPTER TWO.

"THE TALE OF THE SPEAR."

"_Whau_!" ejaculated Ziboza, one of the fighting indunas of the Ingubu
Regiment. "These two first."

The two men constituting the picket are seated under a bush in blissful
unconsciousness; their horses, saddled and bridled, grazing close at
hand. Away over the veldt, nearly half a mile distant, the column is
laagered.

In obedience to their leader's mandate a line of dark savages darts
forth, like a tongue, from the main body. Worming noiselessly through
the bush and grass, yet moving with incredible rapidity, these are
advancing swiftly and surely upon the two white men, their objective the
point where they can get between the latter and their horses.

These men are there to watch over the safety of the column laagered up
yonder, but who shall watch over their own safety? Nearer--nearer! and
now the muscles start from each bronze frame, and the fell, murderous
assegai is grasped in sinewy grip. Straining eyeballs stare forth in
bloodthirsty exultation. The prey is secure.

No. Not quite. The horses, whose keener faculties can discern the
approach of a crowd of musky-smelling barbarians, while the denser
perceptions of the two obtuse humans cannot, now cease grazing and throw
up their heads and snort. Even the men can hardly close their eyes to
such a danger signal as this. Starting to their feet they gaze eagerly
forth, and--make for the horses as fast as they can.

Too late, however, in the case of one of them. The enemy is upon them,
and one of the horses, scared by the terrible Matabele battle-hiss, and
the waving of shields and the leaping of dark, fantastically arrayed
forms, refuses to be caught. The owner starts to run, but what chance
has he against these? He is soon overtaken, and blades rise and fall,
and the ferocity of the exultant death-hiss of the barbarians mingles
with the dropping rifle. Are they are keeping up on his fleeing
companion, and the sputter and roll of volleys from the laager. For
this is what has been happening ther