There was a shout from beyond.
Laura struggled through; then Webster lifted Hume, and almost shot him in. “Klaas, come!”
The Gaika looked along the passage and hesitated. Webster ran, caught him by the neck, and jammed his head in the hole, then shoved him through by main force.
“Jim, come in!” cried Laura.
He was already advancing to the passage, but he turned. “I cannot, Laura. Sirayo must come too;” and he rushed away to join the chief, who stood astride the passage eyeing a fresh body of the enemy, whose glaring eyes and quivering nostrils met the view above the striped shields.
Two men stood shoulder to shoulder, their shields before them, and two behind held their bucklers above the heads of those in advance.
“Now!” they cried, “together!” and advancing in a solid mass, by their sheer weight pushed back their two opponents into the open room; but beyond the opening the two would not budge.
Webster drove his fist full in the face of the foremost native, who fell, stunned, against the men behind, and in the opening made Sirayo plunged his assegai. Then the two of them struck and thrust furiously, while the Zulus in front, who could not use their hands, cried to those behind to give them room, but the latter, scenting blood, pressed on the more fiercely, till at last they forced their way and, by their impetus, fell headlong into the room. Webster and the chief sprang aside a moment, and then dashed among their foes before they could rally; and the desperate rush they made, and their great strength exerted to the utmost in each swift blow, combined with the fierce war-shout and terrible vigour of the great Zulu, produced a panic. The injured men at first ran crying out, and then the survivors fled, leaving the two alone with a few writhing figures. Then they struggled, all blood-stained and panting, through the hole to the hiding-place, and the stone was replaced.