ce out of the darkness. "_Whau_! Nxala!"

It was his last utterance. A heavy knobstick, hurled with tremendous
force, struck him full between the eyes, and he, too, dropped.

The murderers were upon him at once, battering his skull to atoms with
their knobsticks, in the fury of their savagery forgetting their
instigator's warning as to the shedding of blood.

While this was happening old Zavula had half raised himself.

"Dog's son, Nxala," he exclaimed. "I have found my end. Thine shall be
the white man's rope."

These were his last words. The murderous fiends, springing upon him,
completed their atrocious work--this time effectually. A slight quiver,
and the old chief's body lay still and lifeless.

The tumble of rocks and stones contained, from the very nature of its
formation, several holes and caves, and to these now were the bodies
dragged. To fling them in, and cover the apertures with stones, was the
work of a very short time.

"_Hlala-gahle_, Zavula! Good night, Zavula!" cried Nxala, raising a
hand in mockery. "Rest peacefully. _Whau_! Our father has left us.
We will depart and cry the _sibongo_ to Babatyana the new chief."

"_Yeh-bo_! Babatyana the new chief."

And the cowardly murderers departed from the scene of their abominable
deed, and the darkness of black night fell suddenly upon the graves of
these two old men, thus barbarously and treacherously done to death;
heathen savages both, but estimable and useful according to their
lights. And it might well be that the mocking aspiration of the
cowardly instigator of their destruction was from that moment to be
fulfilled.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

TWO LETTERS.

"How much longer is that man going to hang about here?" said Edala,
gazing, somewhat frowningly, from the window of her father's book room,
which looked out upon the cattle-kraals and the group of huts, occupied
by the native servants, which stood adjacent thereto.

"Who? Oh, Manamandhla! Not for long, I should think. Do you know,
child, he's rather an interesting chap to talk to and has become quite
civil. He asked me to let him stop on here a bit, and he'd help with
the cattle now we're short-handed."

"Well, we shall be more so soon, for old Patolo can't stand him. He'll
be clearing next, you'll see."

"Not he. They'll strike it off all right. Patolo has been
cattle-herd-in-chief to me nearly all your life, and knows where he's
well off. And Manamandhla may prove