He couldn't believe they had not reached the waterfront yet; they had been 
doing this for hours. Something prodded him hard in the back, causing him to 
stumble forward; he looked back over his shoulder and saw a man trying to run 
him through with a bayonet. Another man ran up and tried to wrench the rifle 
out of Carl's hand. Carl, too startled to respond for a moment, finally let go 
of Spence, reached
across, and poked him in the eyes. A great explosion sounded in his ear, and he 
looked over to see that Spence had twisted himself round and shot the attacker 
who had the bayonet. The Israeli who had been guarding their rear had simply 
vanished. Carl raised his rifle toward the people who were converging on them 
from the rear; that and Spence's pistol opened up a gratifying clear space in 
their wake. But something more powerful and terrifying was driving more people 
toward them from the side, and as Carl tried to see what it was, he realized 
that a score of Chinese people were now between him and the Zulus. The looks on 
their faces were pained and panicky; they were not attacking, they were being 
attacked.