As the light grew—­it was long in coming on that dull morning—­and the mist lifted, I examined these people, without seeming to take any particular notice of them.  They were tall, much taller than the average Zulu, and slighter in their build, also lighter in colour.  Like the Zulus they carried large hide shields and one very broad-bladed spear.  Throwing assegais seemed to be wanting, but in place of them I saw that they were armed with short bows, which, together with a quiver of arrows, were slung upon their backs.  The officers wore a short skin cloak or kaross, and the men also had cloaks, which I found out afterwards were made from the inner bark of trees.

They advanced in the most perfect silence and very slowly.  Nobody said anything, and if orders were given this must have been done by signs.  I could not see that any of them had firearms.

“Now,” I said to Stephen, “perhaps if we shot and killed some of those fellows, they might be frightened and run away.  Or they might not; or if they did they might return.”

“Whatever happened,” he remarked sagely, “we should scarcely be welcome in their country afterwards, so I think we had better do nothing unless we are obliged.”

I nodded, for it was obvious that we could not fight hundreds of men, and told Sammy, who was perfectly livid with fear, to bring the breakfast.  No wonder he was afraid, poor fellow, for we were in great danger.  These Mazitu had a bad name, and if they chose to attack us we should all be dead in a few minutes.

The coffee and some cold buck’s flesh were put upon our little camp-table in front of the tent which we had pitched because of the rain, and we began to eat.  The Zulu hunters also ate from a bowl of mealie porridge which they had cooked on the previous night, each of them with his loaded rifle upon his knees.  Our proceedings appeared to puzzle the Mazitu very much indeed.  They drew quite near to us, to within about forty yards, and halted there in a dead circle, staring at us with their great round eyes.  It was like a scene in a dream; I shall never forget it.

Everything about us appeared to astonish them, our indifference, the colour of Stephen and myself (as a matter of fact at that date Brother John was the only white man they had ever seen), our tent and our two remaining donkeys.  Indeed, when one of these beasts broke into a bray, they showed signs of fright, looking at each other and even retreating a few paces.

At length the position got upon my nerves, especially as I saw that some of them were beginning to fiddle with their bows, and that their General, a tall, one-eyed old fellow, was making up his mind to do something.  I called to one of the two Mazitus, whom I forgot to say we had named Tom and Jerry, and gave him a pannikin of coffee.

“Take that to the captain there with my good wishes, Jerry, and ask him if he will drink with us,” I said.