The excitement was very fierce; it seemed to consume me, to eat into my brain.  The sound of the tapping upon the rocks grew louder until it merged into a kind of rumble, mixed with an echo as of that of very distant thunder, which presently I knew to be not thunder, but the bellowing of a thousand frightened beasts.

Nearer and nearer came the galloping hoofs and the rumble of bellowings; nearer and nearer the shouts of men, affronting the stillness of the solemn night.  At length a single animal appeared, a koodoo buck that somehow had got mixed up with the cattle.  It went past us like a flash, and was followed a minute or so later by a bull that, being young and light, had outrun its companions.  That, too, went by, foam on its lips and its tongue hanging from its jaws.

Then the herd appeared—­a countless herd it seemed to me—­plunging up the incline—­cows, heifers, calves, bulls, and oxen, all mixed together in one inextricable mass, and every one of them snorting, bellowing, or making some other kind of sound.  The din was fearful, the sight bewildering, for the beasts were of all colours, and their long horns flashed like ivory in the moonlight.  Indeed, the only thing in the least like it which I have ever seen was the rush of the buffaloes from the reed camp on that day when I got my injury.

They were streaming past us now, a mighty and moving mass so closely packed that a man might have walked upon their backs.  In fact, some of the calves which had been thrust up by the pressure were being carried along in this fashion.  Glad was I that none of us were in their path, for their advance seemed irresistible.  No fence or wall could have saved us, and even stout trees that grew in the gully were snapped or thrust over.

At length the long line began to thin, for now it was composed of stragglers and weak or injured beasts, of which there were many.  Other sounds, too, began to dominate the bellowings of the animals, those of the excited cries of men.  The first of our companions, the cattle-lifters, appeared, weary and gasping, but waving their spears in triumph.  Among them was old Tshoza.  I stepped upon my rock, calling to him by name.  He heard me, and presently was lying at my side panting.

“We have got them all!” he gasped.  “Not a hoof is left save those that are trodden down.  Saduko is not far behind with the rest of our brothers, except some that have been killed.  All the Amakoba tribe are after us.  He holds them back to give the cattle time to get away.”

“Well done!” I answered.  “It is very good.  Now make your men hide among the others that they may find their breath before the fight.”