the issue of the duel, and in the centre stood the grey-haired chief and
general, Sususa, in all his war finery, a cloak of leopard skin upon his
shoulders. At his feet lay the senseless form of little Tota, to my
left squatted Indaba-zimbi, nodding his white lock and muttering
something--probably spells; while in front was my giant antagonist, his
spear aloft and his plumes wavering in the gentle wind. Then over all,
over grassy slope, river, and koppie, over the waggons of the laager,
the piles of dead, the dense masses of the living, the swooning
child, over all shone the bright impartial sun, looking down like the
indifferent eye of Heaven upon the loveliness of nature and the cruelty
of man. Down by the river grew thorn-trees, and from them floated
the sweet scent of the mimosa flower, and came the sound of cooing
turtle-doves. I never smell the one or hear the other without the scene
flashing into my mind again, complete in its every detail.

Suddenly, without a sound, Bombyane shook his assegai and rushed
straight at me. I saw his huge form come; like a man in a dream, I saw
the broad spear flash on high; now he was on me! Then, prompted to it by
some providential impulse--or had the spells of Indaba-zimbi anything to
do with the matter?--I dropped to my knee, and quick as light stretched
out my spear. He drove at me: the blade passed over my head. I felt
a weight on my assegai; it was wrenched from my hand; his great limbs
knocked against me. I glanced round. Bombyane was staggering along with
head thrown back and outstretched arms from which his spear had fallen.
His spear had fallen, but the blade of mine stood out between his
shoulders--I had transfixed him. He stopped, swung slowly round as
though to look at me: then with a sigh the giant sank down--_dead_.

For a moment there was silence; then a great cry rose--a cry of
"Bombyane is dead. The White Spirit has slain Bombyane. Kill the wizard,