“It is the Regiment of the Snake,” said a deep voice, and at the command a body of about five hundred fine warriors marched to the left, giving a booming shout as they fell into columns.
“Who leads the Regiment of the Snake?”
“I, Chanda.”
“Chanda, listen! You will at once lead your men down the river towards the place of stones. On the further bank you will see the fires of a band of Zulus. Camp over against them, singing your war-song. In the morning, when they retire, you will cross the river and attack them in the rear.”
“Will they retire?”
“I have said it. Heed my words. When they retreat you must cross and follow. Depart, and make much noise.”
Chanda gave his orders, and the regiment, accompanied by a shrill whistling from those who remained, filed out of the gates and went chanting into the night, and as they sang they struck the hafts of their assegais against their shields.
“Chanda has done well. Let the others obey as promptly. I want, now, picked men from the regiments in the centre to make good the Regiment of the Rock. Inyami, select your men.”
The young Induna advanced and touched, with his assegai, the men he wanted, ticking them off on his fingers, until two hundred stood out and fell in with the Regiment of the Rock.
“Son of Umkomaas, little chief with the big heart, I place you over the men who remain in the centre. You will sleep here, but when the sun is up you will march quickly to the old stones where your father lies.”