“Fight on!  Fight on!” shrilled the voice of Hokosa on high.  “Lo! the skies are open to my dying sight, and I see the impis of Heaven sweeping to succour you. Behold!”

They dashed the sweat from their eyes and looked forth, and as they looked, the pall of gloom was lifted, and in the golden glow of many-shafted light, they saw, not the legions of Heaven indeed, but the regiments of Nodwengo rushing round the bend of the valley, as dogs rush upon a scent, with heads held low and spears outstretched.

Hafela saw them also.

“Back to the koppie,” he cried, “there to die like men, for the wizardries of Hokosa have been too strong for us, and lost is this my last battle and the crown I came to seek!”

They obeyed, and all that were left of them, some ten thousand men, they ran to the koppie and formed themselves upon it, ring above ring, and here the soldiers of Nodwengo closed in upon them.

Again and for the last time the voice of Hokosa rang out above the fray.

“Nodwengo,” he cried, “with my passing breath I charge you have mercy and spare these men, so many of them as will surrender.  The day of bloodshed has gone by, the fray is finished, the Cross has conquered.  Let there be peace in the land.”

All men heard him, for his piercing scream, echoed from the precipices, came to the ears of each.  All men heard him, and, even in that fierce hour of vengeance, all obeyed.  The spear that was poised was not thrown, and the kerry lifted over the fallen did not descend to dash away his life.

“Hearken, Hafela!” called the king, stepping forward from the ranks of the attackers.  “He whom you have set on high to bring defeat upon you charges me to give you peace, and in the name of the conquering Cross I give peace.  All who surrender shall dwell henceforth in my shadow, nor shall the head or the heel of one of them be harmed, although their sin is great.  One life only will I take, the life of that witch who brought your armies down upon me to burn my town and slay my people by thousands, and who but last night betrayed Hokosa to his death of torment.  All shall go free, I say, save the witch; and for you, you shall be given cattle and such servants as will cling to you to the number of a hundred, and driven from the land.  Now, what say you?  Will you yield or be slain?  Swift with your answer; for the sun sinks, and ere it is set there must be an end in this way or in that.”

The regiments of Hafela heard, and shouted in answer as with one voice:—­

“We take your mercy, King!  We fought bravely while we could, and now we take your mercy, King!”

“What say you, Hafela?” repeated Nodwengo, addressing the prince, who stood upon a point of rock above him in full sight of both armies.

Hafela turned and looked at Hokosa hanging high in mid-air.

“What say I?” he answered in a slow and quiet voice.  “I say that the Cross and its Prophet have been too strong for me, and that I should have done well to follow the one and to listen to the counsel of the other.  My brother, you tell me that I may go free, taking servants with me.  I thank you and I will go—­alone.”