I raised myself upon the rock and fired both barrels of my gun into the
advancing horde, though whether I killed anyone or no I cannot say. I
have always hoped that I did not; but as the mark was large and I am a
fair shot, I fear that is scarcely possible. Next moment, with a howl
that sounded like that of wild beasts, from either side of the gorge the
fierce Amangwane free-spears--for that is what they were--leapt out of
their hiding-places and hurled themselves upon their hereditary foes.
They were fighting for more than cattle; they were fighting for hate and
for revenge since these Amakoba had slaughtered their fathers and their
mothers, their sisters and their brothers, and they alone remained to
pay them back blood for blood.
Great heaven! how they did fight, more like devils than human beings.
After that first howl which shaped itself to the word "Saduko," they
were silent as bulldogs. Though they were so few, at first their
terrible rush drove back the Amakoba. Then, as these recovered from
their surprise, the weight of numbers began to tell, for they, too, were
brave men who did not give way to panic. Scores of them went down at
once, but the remainder pushed the Amangwane before them up the hill. I
took little share in the fight, but was thrust backward with the others,
only firing when I was obliged to save my own life. Foot by foot we were
pushed back till at length we drew near to the crest of the pass.
Then, while the issue hung in the balance, there was another shout of
"Saduko!" and that chief himself, followed by his thirty, rushed upon
the Amakoba.
This charge decided the battle, for not knowing how many more were
coming, those who were left of the Amakoba turned and fled, nor did we
pursue them far.
We mustered on the hill-top, not more than two hundred of us now, the
rest were fallen or desperately wounded, my poor hunter, whom I had lent
to Saduko, being among the dead. Although wounded, he died fighting to
the last, then fell down, shouting to me: "Chief, have I done well?" and expired.
I was breathless and spent, but as in a dream I saw some Amangwane drag
up a gaunt old savage, crying: "Here is Bangu, Bangu the Butcher, whom we have caught alive."
Saduko stepped up to him.
"Ah! Bangu," he said, "now say, why should I not kill you as you would
have killed the little lad Saduko long ago, had not Zikali saved him?
See, here is the mark of your spear."
"Kill," said Bangu. "Your Spirit is stronger than mine. Did not Zikali
foretell it? Kill, Saduko."
"Nay," answered Saduko. "If you are weary I am weary, too, and wounded
as well. Take a spear, Bangu, and we will fight."