But the rest came on.  Kazimoto began to be busy supplying cartridges.  In that first real pinch we were in he certainly lived up to all Courtney had said of him, for without the stimulus of his proper master’s eye he neither flinched nor faltered, but crawled from one to the other, dividing the spare rounds equally.

The Masai began to attempt to outflank us, but my position on the ant-hill to the rear made that impossible; they found themselves faced by a side of the triangle from whichever side they attacked.  But in turning to keep an eye on the flank I became aware of a greater danger.  The cattle were coming back.  That meant that the other Masai were coming, too, and that in a few moments we were likely to be overwhelmed.  I shouted to Will and Brown, but either they did not hear me, or did not have time to answer.

I fired half a dozen shots, and then distinctly heard the crack of a rifle from beyond the cattle.  That gave matters the worst turn yet.  If one of the raiders had a rifle, then unless I could spot him at once and put him out of action our cause was likely lost.  I stood up to look for him and heard a wild cheer, followed by three more shots in quick succession.  Then at last I saw Fred Oakes running along a depression in the ground, followed at a considerable distance by the advance-guard of his porters.  He was running, and then kneeling to fire—­running, and kneeling again.  And he was not wasting ammunition.  He was much the best shot of us all, now that Monty was absent.

The terrified cattle stampeded past us, too wild to be cheeked by any noise.  Seeing them, and sure now of their booty, the party attacking us hauled off and took to their heels.  Will and Brown were for speeding them with bullets in the rear, but I yelled again, and this time made myself heard.  Those who had got behind the cattle and were driving them were coming on with spears and shields raised to slay us in passing.  The other two joined me, and we stood on the ant-hill three abreast.  They charged us—­seven or eight of them.  Three bit the dust, but the rest came on, and if it had not been for two swift shots from Fred’s rifle in the very nick of time we should have all been dead men.

As it was, one seized me by the knees and we went over together, rolling down the ant-hill, he slashing at me with his great broad-bladed spear, I ahold of his wrist with one hand, and with the other fist belaboring him in the face.  He was stronger than I—­greasier—­sweatier—­harder to hold.  He slipped from under me, rolled on top, wrenched his wrist free, and in another second grinned in my face as, with both knees in my stomach, be raised the spear to kill.  I shut my eyes.  I had not another breath left, nor an effort in me, I thought I would deny him the pleasure of watching my death agony.  But I could not keep my eyes shut.  Opening them to see why he did not strike, I saw Kazimoto with my rifle in both hands swing for his skull with the full weight of the butt and all his strength.  Kazimoto grunted.  The Masai half turned his head at the sound.  The butt hit home—­broke off—­and my face and breast were deluged with blood and brains.