At length the long line began to thin, for now it was composed of
stragglers and weak or injured beasts, of which there were many. Other
sounds, too, began to dominate the bellowings of the animals, those
of the excited cries of men. The first of our companions, the
cattle-lifters, appeared, weary and gasping, but waving their spears in
triumph. Among them was old Tshoza. I stepped upon my rock, calling to
him by name. He heard me, and presently was lying at my side panting.
"We have got them all!" he gasped. "Not a hoof is left save those
that are trodden down. Saduko is not far behind with the rest of our
brothers, except some that have been killed. All the Amakoba tribe are
after us. He holds them back to give the cattle time to get away."
"Well done!" I answered. "It is very good. Now make your men hide among
the others that they may find their breath before the fight."
So he stopped them as they came. Scarcely had the last of them vanished
into the bushes when the gathering volume of shouts, amongst which I
heard a gun go off, told us that Saduko and his band and the pursuing
Amakoba were not far away. Presently they, too, appeared--that is the
handful of Amangwane did--not fighting now, but running as hard as they
could, for they knew they were approaching the ambush and wished to pass
it so as not to be mixed up with the Amakoba. We let them go through us.
Among the last of them came Saduko, who was wounded, for the blood ran
down his side, supporting my hunter, who was also wounded, more severely
as I feared.
I called to him.
"Saduko," I said, "halt at the crest of the path and rest there so that
you may be able to help us presently."
He waved the gun in answer, for he was too breathless to speak, and
went on with those who were left of his following--perhaps thirty men in
all--in the track of the cattle. Before he was out of sight the
Amakoba arrived, a mob of five or six hundred men mixed up together
and advancing without order or discipline, for they seemed to have lost
their heads as well as their cattle. Some of them had shields and some
had none, some broad and some throwing assegais, while many were quite
naked, not having stayed to put on their moochas and much less their war
finery. Evidently they were mad with rage, for the sounds that issued
from them seemed to concentrate into one mighty curse.
The moment had come, though to tell the truth I heartily wished that
it had not. I wasn't exactly afraid, although I never set up for great
courage, but I did not quite like the business. After all we were
stealing these people's cattle, and now were going to kill as many
of them as we could. I had to recall Saduko's dreadful story of the
massacre of his tribe before I could make up my mind to give the
signal. That hardened me, and so did the reflection that after all they
outnumbered us enormously and very likely would prove victors in the
end. Anyhow it was too late to repent. What a tricky and uncomfortable
thing is conscience, that nearly always begins to trouble us at the
moment of, or after, the event, not before, when it might be of some
use.