went our poor Askari who was
armed with the axe, a great spear standing out a foot behind
his back; and before long the two spearsmen who had stood with
him went down too, dying fighting like tigers; and others of
our party shared their fate. For a moment I feared the fight
was lost -- certainly it trembled in the balance. I shouted
to my men to cast down their rifles, and to take spears and throw
themselves into the melee. They obeyed, their blood being now
thoroughly up, and Mr Mackenzie's people followed their example.

This move had a momentary good result, but still the fight hung
in the balance.

Our people fought magnificently, hurling themselves upon the
dark mass of Elmoran, hewing, thrusting, slaying, and being slain.
And ever above the din rose Good's awful yell of encouragement
as he plunged to wherever the fight was thickest; and ever, with
an almost machine-like regularity, the two axes rose and fell,
carrying death and disablement at every stroke. But I could
see that the strain was beginning to tell upon Sir Henry, who
was bleeding from several flesh wounds: his breath was coming
in gasps, and the veins stood out on his forehead like blue and
knotted cords. Even Umslopogaas, man of iron that he was, was
hard pressed. I noticed that he had given up 'woodpecking',
and was now using the broad blade of Inkosi-kaas, 'browning'
his enemy wherever he could hit him, instead of drilling scientific
holes in his head. I myself did not go into the melee, but hovered
outside like the swift 'back' in a football scrimmage, putting
a bullet through a Masai whenever I got a chance. I was more
use so. I fired forty-nine cartridges that morning, and I did
not miss many shots.

Presently, do as we would, the beam of the balance began to rise
against us. We had not more than fifteen or sixteen effectives
left now, and the Masai had at least fifty. Of course if they
had kept their heads, and shaken themselves together, they could
soon have made an end of the matter; but that is just what they
did not do, not having yet recovered from their start, and some
of them having actually fled from their sleeping-places without
their weapons. Still by now many individuals were fighting with
their normal courage and discretion, and this alone was sufficient
to defeat us. To make matters worse just then, when Mackenzie's
rifle was empty, a brawny savage armed with a 'sime', or sword,
made a rush for him. The clergyma