special and
secret service performed, he had the reputation of being intensely
jealous. With this knowledge used with rare tact, Fleetwood had
succeeded in turning the angry crowd into a laughing crowd, and it is a
truism that a laughing crowd ceases to be dangerous. This crowd now
roared with laughter again and again, for the Zulu has a keen sense of
humour. So these heated combatants, themselves and their weapons
bespattered with the blood of fleeing fugitives, forgot their
blood-lust, and roared with genuine merriment again and again. But
Jolwana, their leader, the only one head-ringed among them, did not seem
to enter into the joke at all. However, he stopped, which was all
Fleetwood--and, incidentally, Wyvern--wanted of him.

"A son of Majendwa!" he scoffed. "_Au_! but a son of Majendwa ceases to
be such when he is found on that side. He has become a hunting dog of
the _Abelungu_."

"Who art thou?" asked Fleetwood of the fugitive, who had now recovered
from his exhaustion. "I recall thy face but thy name escapes me."

"Mtezani-ka-Majendwa," was the answer. "It is right what he has said."

"Ka-Majendwa? Yes?" rejoined Fleetwood, half questioningly. "Majendwa
has many sons. Yet they--and all the Abaqulusi are on the side of the
Abesutu?"

"As to that, my father, there is something of a tale to tell. Yet I
have not done with these"--with a wave of the hand towards Jolwana and
his followers. "Ah--ah--I have not done with these, but one man can do
nothing against threescore. Still, my time will come."

Fleetwood, whose sympathies were all with the King's party, eyed him
doubtfully, though, of course, as one who had thrown himself on his
protection the young man's safety was absolutely inviolable in so far as
he was able to assure it. All of which Mtezani read.

"Something of a tale to tell, my father," he repeated. "Wait till you
have heard it. And rest assured that in keeping me breathing this day
you and the _Inkosi_ yonder"--designating Wyvern--"have not done the
worst thing for yourselves you have ever done in your lives."

Now a great shout arose from the armed crowd, which had been seated,
taking snuff.

"_Hlalani gahle Abelungu_! We return to the Branch--the Branch of the
Royal Tree! _Hlala gahle_, Mtezani-ka-Majendwa! _Wou_!
Mtezani-ka-Majendwa!"

It was the same mocking roar which had greeted the mention of the names
of the chiefs as they were cited during Dabulamanzi's stimula