of the great Queen over the water, is
it permitted that Pagad' approach you? Ou, I see it is, your face is
pleasant; Bayete, Bayete!"

He ends, and, saluting again, springs forward, and, flying hither and
thither, chants the praises of his chief. "Pagadi," he says, "Pagad',
chief and father of the Amocuna, is coming. Pagad', the brave in battle,
the wise in council, the slayer of warriors; Pagad' who slew the tiger
in the night time; Pagadi, the rich in cattle, the husband of many
wives, the father of many children. Pagad' is coming, but not alone; he
comes surrounded with his children, his warriors. He comes like a king
at the head of his brave children. Pagadi's soldiers are coming; his
soldiers who know well how to fight; his soldiers and his captains who
make the hearts of brave men to sink down; his shakers of spears; his
quaffers of blood. Pagad' and his soldiers are coming; tremble all ye,
ou, ou, ou!"

As the last words die on his lips the air is filled with a deep,
murmuring sound like distant thunder; it swells and rolls, and finally
passes away to give place to the noise of the rushing of many feet. Over
the brow of the hill dashes a compact body of warriors, running swiftly
in lines of four, with their captain at their head, all clad in the same
wild garb as the herald. Each bears a snow-white shield carried on the
slant, and above each warrior's head rises a grey heron's plume. These
are the advance-guard, formed of the "greys" or veteran troops. As they
come into full view the shields heave and fall, and then from every
throat bursts the war-song of the Zulus. Passing us swiftly, they
take up their position in a double line on our right, and stand there
solemnly chanting all the while. Another rush of feet, and another
company flits over the hill towards us, but they bear coal-black
shields, and the drooping plumes are black as night; they fall into
position next the firstcomers, and take up the chant. Now they come
faster and faster, but all through the same gap in the bush. The red
shields, the dun shields, the mottled shields, the yellow shields,
follow each other in quick but regular succession, till at length there
stands before us a body of some five hundred men, presenting, in their
savage dress, their various shields and flashing spears, as wild a
spectacle as it is possible to conceive.

But it is not our eyes only that are astonished, for from each of those
five hundred throats there swells a