ons.

Now the Zulu before mentioned got up, stretched himself, and strolled
leisurely over to them. He was an elderly man with a pleasing face,
and, if anything, inclined to stoutness.

"There is thunder in the air," he said, in a casual tone.

"I made that remark but now, Hlabulana," answered Fleetwood. "Well?"

"While sitting over yonder my ears were open to other sounds than the
chatter of these Amakafula," went on the Zulu in the same low,
matter-of-fact tones. "They heard sounds of war."

"Of war?" repeated Joe, examining the edge of the knife. "Now what
sounds were they, Hlabulana?"

"The rush of many feet--the rumble of hoofs. Men are striving, and it
is for cattle."

"I hear it again," said Hlabulana, who had resumed his squatting
attitude.

"So do I," said the trader, who had seated himself on the ground, and
who, while not seeming to, was listening intently.

"What are you two chaps yarning about?" said Wyvern, raising himself
upon one elbow. He had mastered the Zulu tongue so far but
indifferently. "Hallo! What the deuce is that? Did you hear it?"

Fleetwood nodded. The waggon boys had dropped their work and sprang to
their feet, uttering quick exclamations as they stared forth over the
veldt. Again that dull and distant roar boomed forth upon the lazy air.

"You and I have heard it before, Wyvern. At Hlobane, for instance. How
about the King's war-shout?"

Wyvern started, and looked grave.

"`Usutu'?" he said, listening again. "Why, so it might be. Shall we be
attacked then, because if so, I'm afraid our chances are slight."

"I don't think they'll interfere with us. What do you think,
Hlabulana?" relapsing into the vernacular. "What is being done yonder?"

He addressed, who had been listening intently, shrugged his shoulders
slightly.

"I think that the Abesutu and the children of the white man's chiefs
have--met," he answered, a comical crinkle coming round the corners of
his eyes. "_Whau_! they are always meeting, only to-day there seem more
of them than usual. See. They draw nearer."

Now the sounds of the tumult, though faint, were audible without an
effort. It was noticeable that the Natal boys edged very close indeed
to their white masters. The Native Contingent at Isandhlwana had been
made up largely of their kindred, and the tradition thereof was still
fresh and green. A quick exclamation escaped them.

For, over the low ridge sparsely covered with bush,