me, I suddenly heard the chief, who was on my right, give a low moan,
and saw the people cluster round him. I went up and looked. There, on
the ground, lay the body of his son. It was a dreadful sight. The hair
was burnt off his head, the copper rings upon his arms were fused, the
assegai handle which lay near was literally shivered into threads, and,
when I took hold of his arm, it seemed to me that every bone of it was
broken.

The men with the chief stood gazing silently, while the women wailed.

"Great is the magic of Indaba-zimbi!" said a man, at length. The chief
turned and struck him a heavy blow with the kerrie in his hand.

"Great or not, thou dog, he shall die," he cried, "and so shalt thou if
thou singest his praises so loudly."

I said nothing, but thinking it probable that Indaba-zimbi had shared
the fate of his enemy, I went to look. But I could see nothing of him,
and at length, being thoroughly chilled with the wet, started back to my
waggon to change my clothes. On reaching it, I was rather surprised to
see a strange Kaffir seated on the driving-box wrapped up in a blanket.

"Hullo! come out of that," I said.

The figure on the box slowly unrolled the blanket, and with great
deliberation took a pinch of snuff.

"It was a good fire-fight, white man, was it not?" said Indaba-zimbi,
in his high, cracked voice. "But he never had a chance against me,
poor boy. He knew nothing about it. See, white man, what becomes of