two stools."

This was in allusion to the telegraph, which early in the previous
afternoon had been discovered to be not working. The magistrate's
clerk, and some of the older farmers had been holding a hurried council
of war.

"Let's get in one of these shamming cusses and question him," went on
Hyland. "He's sure to be, but it'll help pass time. Hey--you!" he
called out in the vernacular. "You with the scratched toes. Get up and
come over here at once, or I'll blow twenty holes into your carcase with
a very heavy charge of shot. You know me. I'm Ugwala."

The name was magical. The man addressed, a sturdy muscular fellow who
had been shamming death, raised his head and asked to be reassured on
the word of Ugwala that his life should be spared. This was done, and
he clambered over the earthwork.

"Whose people are these?" began Hyland, who had risen and joined the
rest. "Those of Ndabakosi?"

"All people, _Nkose_," was the reply. "Some of Babatyana, some of
Nteseni, some from over the river."

"Do they expect to take this place?"

"_Au Nkose_! They knew not that Ugwala had come into it," answered the
man, with a somewhat whimsical smile, the inference being intended that
had they known of his presence they would not have attempted such a
forlorn hope.

"Are you from beyond the river?"

"_E-he, Nkose_."

"Who are leading these?"

The man looked at him, and shook his head. But he made no reply.
Hyland repeated the question.

"I cannot betray my chiefs," was the answer.

"Oh then you'll have your brains blown out," came the savage rejoinder.
But it was not uttered by Hyland. It came from the man whom he had
prevented from lighting a pipe. He had drawn a revolver and was
pointing it right into the face of the Zulu. But in a moment Hyland's
arm flew up, and the pistol, jerked from the other's grasp, spun away
into the air.

"I have the promise of Ugwala," said the savage, calmly, showing no sign
whatever of trepidation.

"That's quite right," said Prior emphatically. "Damn it. The fellow's
quite right not to give away his chiefs. Hallo--what's up now? Here,
sergeant, shove him into the lock-up with leg-irons on. We can't have
him escaping just now, anyway."

All possibility of any pursuance of the quarrel on the part of the
aggrieved Jenkins was at an end--for the present at any rate. All hands
saw that which told that their work was by no means done. They would
need all their co