Meanwhile, we set to work to strengthen the position in all ways possible.  Almost every man was turned out, and in the course of the day, which seemed far too short, much was done.  The paths up the hill —­that was rather a sanatorium than a fortress, being used generally as the camping place of regiments suffering from recent service in unhealthy portions of the country—­were carefully blocked with masses of stones, and every other approach was made as impregnable as time would allow.  Piles of boulders were collected at various spots to be rolled down upon an advancing enemy, stations were appointed to the different regiments, and all preparation was made which our joint ingenuity could suggest.

Just before sundown, as we rested after our toil, we perceived a small company of men advancing towards us from the direction of Loo, one of whom bore a palm leaf in his hand for a sign that he came as a herald.

As he drew near, Ignosi, Infadoos, one or two chiefs and ourselves, went down to the foot of the mountain to meet him.  He was a gallant-looking fellow, wearing the regulation leopard-skin cloak.

“Greeting!” he cried, as he came; “the king’s greeting to those who make unholy war against the king; the lion’s greeting to the jackals that snarl around his heels.”

“Speak,” I said.

“These are the king’s words.  Surrender to the king’s mercy ere a worse thing befall you.  Already the shoulder has been torn from the black bull, and the king drives him bleeding about the camp."[*]

[*] This cruel custom is not confined to the Kukuanas, but is by no
    means uncommon amongst African tribes on the occasion of the
    outbreak of war or any other important public event.—­A.Q.

“What are Twala’s terms?” I asked from curiosity.

“His terms are merciful, worthy of a great king.  These are the words of Twala, the one-eyed, the mighty, the husband of a thousand wives, lord of the Kukuanas, keeper of the Great Road (Solomon’s Road), beloved of the Strange Ones who sit in silence at the mountains yonder (the Three Witches), Calf of the Black Cow, Elephant whose tread shakes the earth, Terror of the evil-doer, Ostrich whose feet devour the desert, huge One, black One, wise One, king from generation to generation! these are the words of Twala:  ’I will have mercy and be satisfied with a little blood.  One in every ten shall die, the rest shall go free; but the white man Incubu, who slew Scragga my son, and the black man his servant, who pretends to my throne, and Infadoos my brother, who brews rebellion against me, these shall die by torture as an offering to the Silent Ones.’  Such are the merciful words of Twala.”

After consulting with the others a little, I answered him in a loud voice, so that the soldiers might hear, thus—­