Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-01-09

THROWN. poured into a tin pannilin, giving to each Q stiff draw, and making attempts to be cheerful as he did so. But his af- fected jocularity only seemed to dcpress oppressed me.
 Now the light was growing, and we could see some way into the mist which still hung denscly over the river, and now-ah! there it was. From tho other side of the hill. thousand yards or moro from the laager, came a faint hum- ming sound. It grew and grew till 1t gathered to a chant-tho awful war chant of tho Zulus. Soon I could catch the words. They were simple enough. |" We shall slay, we shall slay. Is it not so, my
 brothers?
 Our spears shall blush blood red Is it not so,
 my brothers?
 For we are the stockings of Chalsa; blood is
 our milk my brothers Awake, children of the Umtetw2, awake! The vulturc wheels, the jacllal suiTS tho air; Awake, children of tho Umtetwa-cry aloud,
 ye ringed men;
 There is the foe; we shall slay them. Is it
 not so, my brothers9
 S'gee' S'gee! S'gre!!'
 Such is rough translation of that hateful chant, which often hear to this very day in my dreams. It does not look particularly imposing on paper, but if the reader could have heard it as it rolled through the still air from the throats of nearly three thousand war riors, singing all to time, he would have found it impressive enough. Now tho shields began to appear over the brow of the rise. They came by companies, each company about hun dred strong. Altogether there wore thirty-one companies. counted them. When all were over they formed them selves into triple line. then trotted down the slope toward us. At dis tance of hundred and fifty yards, or | just out of shot of such guns as we had in those days, they halted and began singing again:
 | !" Wonder Is the kraal of the white man-a little kraal my brothers;
 We shall eat 1t up; we shall trample 1t hat, my brothers.
 | But where are the white mans oattle-where | arc his oxen, my brothersr'
 This question seemed to puzzle them great deal, for they sang the song again and again. At last herald came forward-a great man with ivory rings on his armand, putting his hands to
 
 our cattle were.
 Hans Botha climbed onto the top of a wagon and roared out that they might answer that question themselves.
 Then the herald called again, saying that he saw that the cattle had been sent away.
 "We shall go and find the cattle," he said; ''then we shall come and kill you, | ,,yifh catt1n rnnSt Stnr where you are; but if we walt to kill you before we get the cattle they may have trekked too far for us to follow But if you try to run away we shall easily catch you, white men"
 This struck nc as very odd speech for tho Zulus generally attack an enemy first and take his cattle afterwards still, there was certain amount O plausibility about it. While was stil wondering what it all might mean th' Zulus began to run past us in companie toward the river. Suddenly a shout an nounced that they had found the spoo of the cattle, and the whole Impi o them started down it at run until the, vanished over rise about quarter of milo away.
 We waited for half an hour or more put nothing coulu VIC Seo ol IAeLH. ''Now, 1 wonder if the devils hay really gone?" said Hans Botha to me 'It is very strange" 'I will go and see," said Indaba-zimbi eff you will come with me, Macumazahn We can creep to the top of the ridge on look over.'
 At first I hesitated, but curiosit overcame me. I was young in thos days and weary with suspense.