hat were they planning? Could it be that they had some devilish scheme
of forcing him out by fire or smoke, knowing that he had no firearms?
He had read of such a situation, and his heart sank as he realised how
easily it could be carried out in his case. Ha!

The silence was broken at last. Without he could just catch the sound
of a deep-toned, murmuring whisper in the Zulu tongue.

"Go away and leave me in peace," he called out, in the best Zulu he
could muster. "The first to enter shall surely have his head cleft in
twain, and then the next. I am not unarmed."

"_Whou_!"

It would be hard to convey the tone of wonder contained in that brief
exclamation, and then at the tone of another voice the hunted and
desperate man could hardly trust his own sense of hearing.

"Wyvern, old chap, come on out. It's only me and Hlabulana."

The next moment he and Joe Fleetwood were gripping hands. Hlabulana the
while began to uncork his snuff-horn.

"This is awfully funny," went on Fleetwood. "We had suspicions that it
was Bully Rawson in there, and were concocting some scheme for getting
him out--you know the brute's quite capable of shooting the pair of us
on sight. But how did you get away?"

"Mtezani cut me loose in the scrimmage, but they chevied me a good way I
can tell you." Then he narrated what had subsequently happened. "Got
any scoff, Joe?" he concluded. "I'm starving."

"Only some pounded mealies, which Hlabulana managed to raise from Heaven
knows where. Here--fall on."

While Wyvern was satisfying his cravings with this plain fare, Fleetwood
narrated his own escape, which had been effected by Hlabulana under
exactly similar circumstances, except that it had not been discovered,
and therefore he had not been pursued.

"He told me that Mtezani was taking care of you," he concluded, "so I
came away easy in mind, feeling sure we should come together again when,
things were quiet, and we have."

"By Jove we have! And to think of you having taken me for Bully Rawson.
I don't feel flattered, Joe."

The other broke into a laugh.

"Tell you what, old man. We both look all fired ruffians enough just
now to be taken even for him. At least, I feel it, and can truthfully
assure you you look it. And now what are we going to do next? I've got
a bull-dog six-shooter here that the idiots forgot to bag when they
trussed us up."

"I haven't even got that," laughed Wyvern. "I was going to brain the
pai