recall Saduko's dreadful story of the
massacre of his tribe before I could make up my mind to give the
signal. That hardened me, and so did the reflection that after all they
outnumbered us enormously and very likely would prove victors in the
end. Anyhow it was too late to repent. What a tricky and uncomfortable
thing is conscience, that nearly always begins to trouble us at the
moment of, or after, the event, not before, when it might be of some
use.

I raised myself upon the rock and fired both barrels of my gun into the
advancing horde, though whether I killed anyone or no I cannot say. I
have always hoped that I did not; but as the mark was large and I am a
fair shot, I fear that is scarcely possible. Next moment, with a howl
that sounded like that of wild beasts, from either side of the gorge the
fierce Amangwane free-spears--for that is what they were--leapt out of
their hiding-places and hurled themselves upon their hereditary foes.
They were fighting for more than cattle; they were fighting for hate and
for revenge since these Amakoba had slaughtered their fathers and their
mothers, their sisters and their brothers, and they alone remained to
pay them back blood for blood.

Great heaven! how they did fight, more like devils than human beings.
After that first howl which shaped itself to the word "Saduko," they
were silent as bulldogs. Though they were so few, at first their
terrible rush drove back the Amakoba. Then, as these recovered from
their surprise, the weight of numbers began to tell, for they, too, were
brave men who did not give way to panic. Scores of them went down at
once, but the remainder pushed the Amangwane before them up the hill. I
took little share in the fight, but was thrust backward with the others,
only firing when I was obliged to save my own life. Foot by foot we were
pushed back till at length we drew near to the crest of the pass.

Then, while the issue hung in the balance, there was another shout of
"Saduko!" and that chief himself, followed by his thirty, rushed upon
the Amakoba.

This charge decided the battle, for not knowing how many more were
coming, those who were left of the Amakoba turned and fled, nor did we
pursue them far.

We mustered on the hill-top, not more than two hundred of us now, the
rest were fallen or desperately wounded, my poor hunter, whom I had lent
to Saduko, being among the dead. Although wounded, he died fighting to
the last, then fell down, shout