With a proud gesture Thomas announced that he would soon settle Menzi
and all his works, and that meanwhile, as the darkness was coming on,
he would be glad if Kosa would lead them to the place where they were to
sleep.



So they started, the accordion-man, playing execrably, leading the way,
and trekked for about a mile and a half till they came to the koppie in
the centre of the plain, reaching it by following the left bank of the
river that washed its western face.

Passing between a number of tumbled walls built of loose stones, that
once in bygone generations had sheltered the cattle of Chaka and other
Zulu kings, they reached a bay in the side of the koppie that may
have covered four acres of ground. Here by the edge of the river, but
standing a little above it, were the burnt-out ruins of a building that
by its shape had evidently been a church, and near to it other ruins of
a school and of a house which once was the mission-station.

As they approached they heard swelling from within those cracked and
melancholy walls the sound of a fierce, defiant chant which Thomas
guessed must be some ancient Zulu war-song, as indeed it was. It was
a very impressive song, chanted by many people, which informed the
listeners that those who sung it were the King's oxen, born to kill
the King's enemies, and to be killed for the King, and so forth; a
deep-noted, savage song that thrilled the blood, at the first sound of
which the accordion gave a feeble wail and metaphorically expired.