iful words of Twala."

After consulting with the others a little, I answered him in a loud
voice, so that the soldiers might hear, thus--

"Go back, thou dog, to Twala, who sent thee, and say that we, Ignosi,
veritable king of the Kukuanas, Incubu, Bougwan, and Macumazahn, the
wise ones from the Stars, who make dark the moon, Infadoos, of the
royal house, and the chiefs, captains, and people here gathered, make
answer and say, 'That we will not surrender; that before the sun has
gone down twice, Twala's corpse shall stiffen at Twala's gate, and
Ignosi, whose father Twala slew, shall reign in his stead.' Now go, ere
we whip thee away, and beware how thou dost lift a hand against such as
we are."

The herald laughed loudly. "Ye frighten not men with such swelling
words," he cried out. "Show yourselves as bold to-morrow, O ye who
darken the moon. Be bold, fight, and be merry, before the crows pick
your bones till they are whiter than your faces. Farewell; perhaps we
may meet in the fight; fly not to the Stars, but wait for me, I pray,
white men." With this shaft of sarcasm he retired, and almost
immediately the sun sank.

That night was a busy one, for weary as we were, so far as was possible
by the moonlight all preparations for the morrow's fight were
continued, and messengers were constantly coming and going from the
place where we sat in council. At last, about an hour after midnight,
everything that could be done was done, and the camp, save for the
occasional challenge of a sentry, sank into silence. Sir Henry and I,
accompanied by Ignosi and one of the chiefs, descended the hill and
made a round of the pickets. As we went, suddenly, from all sorts of
unexpected places, spears gleamed out in the moonlight, only to vanish
again when we uttered the password. It was clear to us that none were
sleeping at their posts. Then we returned, picking our way warily
through thousands of sleeping warriors, many of whom were taking their
last earthly rest.

The moonlight flickering along their spears, played upon their features
and made them ghastly; the chilly night wind tossed their tall and
hearse-like plumes. There they lay in wild confusion, with arms
outstretched and twisted limbs; their stern, stalwart forms looking
weird and unhuman in the moonlight.

"How many of these do you suppose will be alive at this time
to-morrow?" asked Sir Henry.

I shook my head and looked again at the sleeping men, and to my tired
and