the wagons on all sides, and a forest of tufted
shields was dancing in the moke, and blades tossed redly on high,
reeking with the stream of life. And against the vaporous gloom could
be seen the outlined faces of our warriors, the children of blood, as,
with teeth bared, they threw their heads back and howled like hyenas
because they could not get enough to slay, could not get at it quick
enough. And the Amabuna fought--yes, they fought--and when it came to
the last their women fought more fiercely than the men; yet all were
brave. But what could they do against us, against our might? Driven
hither and thither, broken up into handfuls, they stood back to back,
men and women alike, sick with wounds and the flow of their own blood,
that ran in streams; yet they struck and struck. Ha! our spears were
blunted that day, and reddened indeed, and our pealing yells of rage and
victory rent the skies again and again!

All were slain. We spared none. Their women also we killed, for not
even among the younger did we see any who were fit to spare and take
before the King, so evil-featured and unwashen and shapeless were these.
The children, too, were slain, having their brains dashed out against
the wagon-wheel, or flung into the air to be caught upon the spears of
the warriors as they descended again.

The battle was over now, for none were left to fight. Our warriors,
like wild beasts who had tasted blood, were rolling their eyes hither
and thither in search of more life to destroy. But there was none.

Then something seemed to move in one of the wagons. There was a wild
howl, and a rush. My brother Mgwali was first. Plunging his hand
beneath some sacking, he drew out the body of a little child.

It was a girl-child, and as Mgwali plucked it from its place of shelter,
and held it aloft by the back of its clothing, I could see that it was
yet unhurt. But it was terribly frightened. Its great blue eyes were
starting from its head, and its long hair, like shining threads of
sunlight, streamed down over the dark shoulder and arm of Mgwali,
dabbling in the blood which yet lay undried upon him.

"_Hau_! Throw it up, Mgwali!" cried those who stood by, gripping their
assegais ready to receive its little body on the blades. But before
this could happen I leaped to the spot.

"Hold!" I roared, extending my stick. "Hold!"

The young men snarled, like hungry dogs reft of a bone. But they dared
say no word, knowing