“See their plan?” he said.  “They would close on Umbelazi and gore him with their horns and then charge with their head.  The horn will pass between us and the right flank of the Isigqosa.  Oh! awake, awake, Elephant!  Are you asleep with Mameena in a hut?  Unloose your spears, Child of the King, and at them as they mount the slope.  Behold!” he went on, “it is the Son of Dunn that begins the battle!  Did I not tell you that we must look to the white men to show us the way?  Peep through your tube, Macumazahn, and tell me what passes.”

So I “peeped,” and, the telescope which John Dunn had kindly left with me being good though small, saw everything clearly enough.  He rode up almost to the point of the left horn of the Usutu, waving a white handkerchief and followed by his small force of police and Natal Kafirs.  Then from somewhere among the Usutu rose a puff of smoke.  Dunn had been fired at.

He dropped the handkerchief and leapt to the ground.  Now he and his police were firing rapidly in reply, and men fell fast among the Usutu.  They raised their war shout and came on, though slowly, for they feared the bullets.  Step by step John Dunn and his people were thrust back, fighting gallantly against overwhelming odds.  They were level with us, not a quarter of a mile to our left.  They were pushed past us.  They vanished among the bush behind us, and a long while passed before ever I heard what became of them, for we met no more that day.

Now, the horns having done their work and wrapped themselves round Umbelazi’s army as the nippers of a wasp close about a fly (why did not Umbelazi cut off those horns, I wondered), the Usutu bull began his charge.  Twenty or thirty thousand strong, regiment after regiment, Cetewayo’s men rushed up the slope, and there, near the crest of it, were met by Umbelazi’s regiments springing forward to repel the onslaught and shouting their battle-cry of “Laba!  Laba!  Laba!  Laba!”

The noise of their meeting shields came to our ears like that of the roll of thunder, and the sheen of their stabbing-spears shone as shines the broad summer lightning.  They hung and wavered on the slope; then from the Amawombe ranks rose a roar of

"Umbelazi wins!"

Watching intently, we saw the Usutu giving back.  Down the slope they went, leaving the ground in front of them covered with black spots which we knew to be dead or wounded men.

“Why does not the Elephant charge home?” said Maputa in a perplexed voice.  “The Usutu bull is on his back!  Why does he not trample him?”

“Because he is afraid, I suppose,” I answered, and went on watching.

There was plenty to see, as it happened.  Finding that they were not pursued, Cetewayo’s impi reformed swiftly at the bottom of the slope, in preparation for another charge.  Among that of Umbelazi, above them, rapid movements took place of which I could not guess the meaning, which movements were accompanied by much noise of angry shouting.  Then suddenly, from the midst of the Isigqosa army, emerged a great body of men, thousands strong, which ran swiftly, but in open order, down the slope towards the Usutu, holding their spears reversed.  At first I thought that they were charging independently, till I saw the Usutu ranks open to receive them with a shout of welcome.