d the border. Then one of the boys
Muntisi had given me to drive the cattle came up with the pleasant news
that a large body of men, armed too, was coming rapidly on behind, on
our track.

I don't know why this should have caused me uneasiness yet it did. No
war had broken out as yet--this I had ascertained from such Zulus as we
had fallen in with on the way. I gave orders to push on the waggons,
and the cattle. Then getting out a powerful binocular I rode up to a
point whence I knew I could command a considerable sweep.

The ground was open on all sides, a thin thread of mimosa along some
slight depression being the only sort of cover it afforded. Cresting a
rise about three miles distant I made out a dark mass moving forward
along our track, and that at a rapid rate.

At any other time this would have caused me little if any anxiety, but
now we had had bother enough in all conscience. I didn't want any more
of it, but that the crowd behind was in pursuit of us there was no room
for doubt. It was an armed band, for by the aid of the glasses I could
make out the glint of assegais and the war shields that were carried.

I returned to the waggons but saw that the pace was as good as the oxen
could be put to. The cattle were ahead, going well, but the drift was a
good deal further on than I should have wished it to be. Of course
there was no physically defensive advantage on the other side over this
one, still a boundary is a great moral force; certainly was then while
the boundary dispute was awaiting the award of the commission.

"We'll get out the rifles and cartridges, Sewin," I said--"and have them
handy, but we won't show them. Also sling on your revolver, on the same
terms. There's a crowd coming on fast on our track--what the deuce for
I can't make out. Still it's as well to be prepared for emergencies."

"Oh rather," he assented, brisking up at the prospect of a row. "I
think it's about time we read Mr Zulu a lesson."

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A SOLOMON--IN THE ZULU.

Suddenly Arlo, who had been trotting along placidly beside the waggons
stopped short, looking backward, and emitting low growls, which soon
changed to a deep-toned, booming bark. We followed his glance. The
Zulus were on the crest of the ridge about half a mile behind. I at
once gave orders to the drivers to resume their normal pace. Further
flight--as flight--was useless and impolitic.

"Put the dog into the tent waggon a