o rushed madly down the bank, and commenced wading through
the water, which rose above their waists.

The only landing-place on the opposite side was by a small galley or
ravine, not more than ten feet in breadth. To ascend through this
gulley would be a work of some difficulty, even if unopposed. But with
the passage disputed by the spears of the opposing Makololo, it would be
one of desperate danger. For all that, the Matabili determined on the
attempt, and were soon in the act of making it.

Plunging madly across the drift, they were soon gathered in a grand
crowd at the entrance of the gulley, and striving to ascend it five or
six at a time. The passage would admit of no more. At the first glance
Macora saw the advantage of his position, and encouraged his men to hold
it. Not one of a dozen of the Matabili, who strove to enter the ravine,
succeeded in getting up its slippery sides. Without a firm footing
their assegais and shields could not be used to any advantage; and their
dead bodies were soon swept off by the current of the river.

Those who succeeded in getting a little way up the gulley were opposed
by enemies on both sides of it, and easily speared to death. Meanwhile
the white hunters were constantly loading and firing upon those who
could not be reached by the spears of the Makololo; and in less than ten
minutes the enemy again discovered that they had made a mistake. They
saw the impracticability of getting across the river while opposed from
the opposite bank. When this fact became fully comprehended, they
retreated to the other shore, and the roar of battle was again hushed,
or only continued by wild cries of vengeance.

In this second combat only four or five of the Makololo were wounded;
their wounds being caused by assegais thrown by those who had no other
opportunity of using their weapons.

Knowing that, should he abandon such a good position for defence, his
enemies would immediately pursue, Macora determined to hold it, if
possible, until such time as the unprotected portion of his tribe could
get to some point distant from the scene of danger. For two hours the
hostile parties on both sides of the river remained without further
strife, except that which might be called a war of words. Threats and
taunting speeches were freely exchanged, and mutual invitations to come
across,--none of which was accepted.

It was at length determined by Macora and his people to leave the place,
a