teya, imperturbably.

"When? When? To-night, man. This very night, do you hear?" roared the
other.

"_Hau_! The white man has the eyes of twenty vultures that he can see
to follow the spoor of thirty-seven sheep on a dark night," cried a
mocking voice--and a great shout of derisive laughter went up from the
whole savage crowd. The old chief, however, preserved his dignified and
calm demeanour.

"You are excited, Umlilwane," he said--a faint smile lurking round the
corners of his mouth. "Had you not better go home and return in the
morning and talk things over quietly? Surely you would not forget
yourself like a boy or a quarrelsome old woman."

If a soft answer turneth away wrath, assuredly an injunction to keep
cool to an angry man conduceth to a precisely opposite result. If
Carhayes had been enraged before, his fury now rose to white heat.

"You infernal old scoundrel!" he roared. "Don't I tell you I have
spoored the sheep right bang into your kraal? They are here now, I tell
you; here now. And you try to put me off with your usual Kafir lies and
shuffling." And shaking with fury he darted forth his hand, which still
held the heavy rhinoceros hide _sjambok_, as though he would have struck
the chief then and there. But Nteya did not move.

"_Hau_!" cried Hlangani, who had been a silent but attentive witness to
this scene. "_Hau_! Thus it is that the chiefs of the Amaxosa are
trampled on by these _abelungu_ (whites). Are we men, I say? Are we
men?" And the eyes of the savage flashed with terrible meaning as he
waved his hand in the direction of the foolhardy Englishman.

Thus was the spark applied to the dry tinder. The crowd surged forward.
A dozen sinewy hands gripped the bridle, and in a moment Carhayes was
flung violently to the earth.

Stunned, half-senseless he lay. Assegais flashed in the firelight. It
seemed that the unfortunate settler's hours were numbered. Another
moment and a score of bright blades would be buried in his body.

But a stern and peremptory mandate from the chief arrested each
impending stroke.

"Stop, my children!" cried Nteya, standing over the prostrate man and
extending his arms as though to ward off the deadly blows. "Stop, my
children! I, your chief; I, your father, command it. Would you play
into the hands of your enemies? Be wise, I say. Be wise in time."

Sullenly the crowd fell back. With weapons still uplifted, with eyes
hanging hungrily upon