Next morning at the dawn guides arrived from the Town of the Axe,
bringing with them a yoke of spare oxen, which showed that its Chief was
really anxious to see me. So, in due course we inspanned and started,
the guides leading us by a rough but practicable road down the steep
hillside to the saucer-like plain beneath, where I saw many cattle
grazing. Travelling some miles across this plain, we came at last to a
river of no great breadth that encircled a considerable Kaffir town
on three sides, the fourth being protected by a little line of koppies
which were joined together with walls. Also the place was strongly
fortified with fences and in every other way known to the native mind.

With the help of the spare oxen we crossed the river safely at the ford,
although it was very full, and on the further side were received by a
guard of men, tall, soldierlike fellows, all of them armed with axes as
the messengers had been. They led us up to the cattle enclosure in the
centre of the town, which although it could be used to protect beasts in
case of emergency, also served the practical purpose of a public square.

Here some ceremony was in progress, for soldiers stood round the kraal
while heralds pranced and shouted. At the head of the place in front
of the chief's big hut was a little group of people, among whom a big,
gaunt man sat upon a stool clad in a warrior's dress with a great and
very long axe hafted with wire-lashed rhinoceros horn, laid across his
knees.

Our guides led me, with Hans sneaking after me like a dejected and
low-bred dog (for the waggon had stopped outside the gate), across the
kraal to where the heralds shouted and the big man sat yawning. At once
I noted that he was a very remarkable person, broad and tall and spare
of frame, with long, tough-looking arms and a fierce face which reminded