thirty men in the house (which, of course, was a lie) and plenty of
ammunition and food, so that if he chose to continue the attack it would
be the worse for him and his tribe.

On hearing this the herald shouted back that we should every one of us
be dead before noon if he had his way. Still, he would report my words
faithfully to Quabie and bring his answer.

Then he turned and began to walk off. Just as he did so a shot was
fired from the house, and the man pitched forward to the ground, then
rose again and staggered back towards his people, with his right
shoulder shattered and his arm swinging.

"Who did that?" I asked through the smoke, which prevented me from
seeing.

"I, parbleu!" shouted Leblanc. "Sapristi! that black devil wanted to
torture me, Leblanc, the friend of the great Napoleon. Well, at least I
have tortured him whom I meant to kill."

"Yes, you fool," I answered; "and we, too, shall be tortured because of
your wickedness. You have shot a messenger carrying a flag of truce,
and that the Quabies will never forgive. Oh! I tell you that you have
hit us as well as him, who had it not been for you might have been
spared."

These words I said quite quietly and in Dutch, so that our Kaffirs might
understand them, though really I was boiling with wrath.

But Leblanc did not answer quietly.