The Globe-republican., 1890-10-01

ABOUT three, ali the resi- were Oe3u
They, too, would probably soon be dead.
What did it matter? They lived by war
to die in blood. It was their natural
end. ''Kill till you are killed" That
is the motto of the Zulu soldier. It has
the merit of simplicity.
Meanwhile the warriors were looting
the wagons, including my own, having
heap. I looked at the heap; all Of them
were there, including the two stout
fraus, poor things. But missed one
body, that of Hans Botha's daugh-
ter, little Tota. A wild hope came into
my heart that she might have escaped,
but no, it was not possible. could only
pray thatshe was already at rest.
Just then the great Zulu, Bombyane,
who had left my side to indulge in the
congenial occupation of looting, came
out of wagon crying that he had got
the 'Iittle white one" I looked. He
was carrying the child Tota, gripping
her frock in one of his huge black hands.
He stalked up to where we were and
held the child before the chief. us it
| dead, father?" he said.
Now, as could we'll see, the child was
| not dead, but had been hidden away,
| and tainted with fear.
The chief glanced att carelessly and
| said:
Find out with your kerrie.'
Acting on this hint the black devil
| held up the child and was about to kill
it with his knob-stick. This was more
than could bear. l sprang at him and
struck him with all my force in the face.
little caring if was speared or not. He
dropped Tota on the ground.
'Oh.' he said, putting his hand to his
nose, ''the white spirit has hard fist.
Come, spirit, will fight you for the
child"
| The soldiers cheered and laughed.
Yes! yesr' they said; '1et Bombyane
fight the white spirit for the child. Let
them fight with assegais.'
| For a moment l hesitated. What
chance had 1 against the black giant?
But l had promised poor Hans to save
the child if l could; and what did it
matter? AS we'll die now as later. How
ever, had wit enough left to make a
favor of it, and intimated to the chief
| through linda ba-zimb i that I was quite
| willing to condescend to kill Bombyane
on condition that if 1 did so the child s
| life should be given to me. Indaba-
zimbi interpreted my words, but no.
ticed that he would not look on me as he
spoke, but covered his face with his
hands and spoke of me as 1.-The ghost,
or the ''son of the spirit" For some
reason that I have never quite under
stood the chief consented to the duel. 1
| fancy it was because he believed me to
be more than mortal and was anxious to
see the last of Bombyane.
| LET them fight" he said. ''Give
them assegais and no shields; the child
shall be to him who conquers."
Eyes! yes.- cried the soldiers. "Let
them fight. Don't be afraid, Bombyane;
if he is spirit he's very small one"
| Il never was frightened of man or
beast, and 1 am not going to run away
| from white ghost" answered the re-
doubtable Bombyane, az he examined
the blade of his great bangwanar stab
bing assegai.
Then they made a ring round US, gave
me similar assegai and set US some
ten PAGES apart. kept my face as calm
as could and tried to show no signs of
fear, though in my heart I was terribly
| afraid. Humanity speaking, my doom
| was on me. The giant warrior before
me had used the assegai from child
| had no experience OF the weapon. More
| over, though was quick and active, he
| must have been at least twice as strong
as l was. However, there was no help
for it, SO, setting my teeth, 1 grasped
the great spear, breathed prayer and
| waited.
The giant stood awhile looking at me,
| and, as he stood, indaba-zimbi walked
| across the ring behind me, muttering as
he passed: Keep cool, Macumazahn,
and wait for him"
AS 1 had not the slightest intention of
commencing the fray, thought this
! good advice.
Heavens! how long that half-minute
seemed. 1t happened many years ago,
but the whole scene rises up before my
eyes as 1 write. There behind US was
the blood-stained lager and near it lay
the piles of dead; round US was rank
upon rank Of plumed savages, standing
| in silence to wait the issue of the duel,
and in the center stood the gray-haired
chief and general, Sususa, in all his
war finery. cloak of leopard skin upon
his shoulders. At his feet lay the sense
less form of little Tota, to my left
squatted Indaba-zimbi; nodding his
white lock a3d muttering something
probably spells; while in front was my
giant antagonist, his spear aloft and his
plumes bending in the gentle breeze.
Then over all, over grassy slope. river
and koppie, over the wagons of the
lager, the piles Of dead, the dense
ranks of the living. the swooning child,
over all shone the bright, impartial sun,
looking down like the great Indifferent
eye of heaven upon the loneliness of
nature and the cruelty Of man. Down
by the river grew thorn-trees, and from
them foated the sweet scent of the
mimosa flower, and came the sound of
cooling turtle doves. never smell the
one or hear the other without the scene
flashing into my mind again, complete