he third person--singular he certainly looked--was a magnificent
creature, a pure-blooded Zulu chief, descended from a race of warriors,
every line of his countenance grave and stern, with eyes that glistened
like fiery stars under a lowering cloud, the man having withal a general
"straightness" of appearance more easily detected than described. A
"Keshla," or ringed man, some six feet three inches high, of enormously
powerful physique, armed with a murderous-looking club and a brace of
broad-bladed spears, and you have a faithful picture of Myzukulwa, the
Zulu friend of the two cousins.

The scene is magnificently striking, but grand with a loneliness awful
beyond description, for, so far as the eye can reach, the fervid sun
beats upon nothing but towering mountain-peaks, whose grey and rugged
summits pierce the fleecy heat-clouds, and seem to lose themselves in a
hopeless attempt to fathom the unspeakable majesty beyond.

"Do next, old fellow?" The words came in cool, quiet tones. "Well, if
I were you, Alf, I should convey my carcass out of the line of fire from
yonder rifle, which has been pointed at each of our persons in
succession during the last two minutes;" and Grenville, with the stem of
his pipe, indicated a spot some three hundred yards away, where his keen
eye had detected the browned barrel of a rifle projected through a
fissure in the rock; then, in quick, incisive tones, suiting the action
to the word, "Lie down, man!" and not a moment too soon, as an angry
rifle-bullet sang over his head and flattened against the rock. In
another instant all three were ensconced behind a rocky projection, and
endeavouring to ascertain their unknown assailants' force.

Truly, an unpleasant place was this to be beleaguered in--little food,
still less water, and positively no cover to protect them in the event
of a night attack upon the position they occupied. Grenville quietly
picked up the flattened bullet, eyed it curiously, and then handed it to
Myzukulwa with an interrogative look; the other scarcely glanced at the
missile and replied quietly, yet in singularly correct English, "Inkoos
(chief), that lead came from a very old gun, but it is a true one--the
Inkoos, my master, was too near it."

"Yes," responded Grenville, who had now quite taken command of matters,
"but we must find out how many of these rascals are lurking behind
yonder rocks with murder in their hearts." So saying he coolly stepped
out into t