ing slowly and heavily to and fro. Half
a dozen paces farther on Prince suddenly shied so violently that he
almost unseated me, as a loud flapping of wings and a great croaking
arose on my right, and some fifteen of the obscene birds rose heavily
into the air and winged their way a hundred yards or so farther up the
garden before again settling.

The pathway was bordered, from the house to the gateway, with a hedge of
flowering shrubs, backed on either side by rows of peach trees; and it
was impossible for me to see from the path what lay beyond those peach
trees. I therefore dismounted, and, throwing the reins to the ground,
so that Prince might not walk away to the stable, forced my way through
the hedge and the rows of peach trees into the more open part of the
garden; and there I beheld what I was by this time fully prepared to
see, but what was nevertheless a sight revolting beyond all possibility
of description. I will not enter into unnecessary details, but will
simply say that scattered about here and there all over that part of the
garden lay the disfigured remains of some sixty or seventy Tembu
warriors--they were easily identifiable by the shape of their shields
and spears and the general character of their war equipment--who had
evidently been shot down during a most determined and pertinacious
attack upon the house. The other half of the front portion of the
garden presented a similar sight, the whole bearing mute but indubitable
testimony not only to the implacable determination of the savages but
also to the resolution of the defenders. Yes, the worst had happened:
the house had been attacked and finally destroyed, notwithstanding the
desperate nature of the defence put up by its inmates; and now--my
mother and father, and good old Jack Nesbitt, where were they?

To discover the answer to this momentous question was my next task, and
how shall I find words to describe the passion of grief and apprehension
with which I set about it? It must go undescribed, for there are
certain emotions of the human heart and mind which mere words are
powerless to portray. Perhaps it is well that this should be the case,
for no one who has not passed through such an experience as mine could
possibly understand what I endured as I made my slow way toward the
ruined house, subconsciously noting, as I went, the evidences which met
me on every hand of the protracted, stubborn implacability of the
attack, and the resolu