“‘Peace, Njalo-njalo! I know Untúswa. Now—at them!’
“While we charged up the hill I made up my mind as to one thing, which was, that if this was to be my last battle, so also should it be Njalo-njalo’s last. But the Baputi did not wait for us; they scattered and fled among the rocks, and although we spent half the day hunting them out and slaying all whom we found, the greater portion of them escaped; which enraged me, whom they had treacherously tried to kill when a guest at their fires. In the eagerness of the pursuit I had distanced my own people, when I heard Njalo-njalo’s voice crying: ‘After him! He is trying to escape!’ I turned at this and ran straight back to where he stood amid a group of others.
“‘Trying to escape, is he?’ I roared. ‘Now, Njalo-njalo, come forth and meet me! Assuredly thou art well named—as to thy sleeping powers, that is—for to-day thou shalt sleep “for ever and ever”—but in death!’
(Njalo-njalo means “for ever and ever.”)
“Most of them grinned at this, and Njalo-njalo answered:
“‘You are talking like a fool, boy! Why should I fight one whose life is forfeited to the King?’
“‘Good! Then I will treat thee even as one of these miserable Baputi.’ And, quick as thought, before a hand could be lifted to prevent it, I hurled my great knobstick at his head. It struck him fair between the eyes, crashing with terrific force. Njalo-njalo dropped like an ox smitten by lightning. He never moved afterward:
“‘He is a coward and deserved such an end!’ I cried. ‘I am not, and my word stands. Take my weapons, men—I disarm.’ And I threw my assegais and shield on the ground beyond reach, and stood waiting.
“They surrounded me at once. Nangeza, who had been helping to kill the Baputi, stood by, also cool, brave, and fearless.