f-a-moon's time, _impela_!"

The interruption was startling. The chief had leaped to his feet, and,
his tall form straightened and his arm thrown forward, was glaring at
the magistrate, with murder in his eyes, as his voice rose to a sullen
roar of defiance.

"For every trivial thing," he went on, "I am summoned to appear at
Esifeni. If a calf is sick I am summoned to Esifeni to explain it. If
a baby dies I am summoned to Esifeni to explain it. _Hau_! I will come
no more--no more. Let the Government do what it will. I, too, have
men. I, too, have men."

His voice had now risen to a perfect roar. The group had uneasily
sprung to its feet. Undhlawafa in vain tried to whisper words of
soothing counsel to the exasperated chief, but they fell on deaf ears.
The ears of the outside attendants were by no means deaf, however, and
now they came crowding up around the scene of the _indaba_. Their
attitude was silent, waiting, ominous.

Now the best of Downes came out. He did not believe he had many moments
more to live, nor did one of those four white men; they marked the way
in which the _right_ hand of each composing that crowd was concealed
within its owner's clothing. The hot fit of temper had left him, and he
sat there confronting the enraged chief with the dignity of one who felt
as an upholder of the Great British Empire at all risks to himself.
Above and beyond the threatening half-circle he could see the flag of
the Empire drooping limply over the roof which sheltered his dear ones,
and it flashed through his mind that these might, perhaps, be left
uninjured. Then he rose to his feet.

"Go," he said. "I talk not with a chief who talks to me in that way. I
am here alone, and these are all who are with me. But I am strong with
the strength of the whole Empire which that flag represents. Go, and
return not to talk in this way to the representative of the King."

For one tense moment they looked each other in the eyes. Then Sapazani
spoke--

"I go," he said. "When I return it will not be in this way."

He turned and, without a word of farewell, strode away. His followers
were puzzled, therefore subdued. But the bright blades concealed
beneath their clothing remained there, still bright, still undimmed.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

CONCERNING BATTLE.

Skerry Hill was the absurdly-named trading store of a man named Minton,
and at present it was in a state of siege. Ben Halse was there, and
Vern