“No,” said Dick, who looked very pale.
“Shall we offer them our guns and ammunition if they will let us go?”
“No,” replied Dick. “If we do that they will strip us to the skin.”
“What shall we do then?”
“Show fight,” said Dick. “I don’t want to, but we must.”
“But they are big fighting men, and we are only boys,” said Jack.
“But we are English boys, and they are only savages,” retorted Dick; “so come along.”
Meanwhile the Matabele warriors—for such it afterwards proved they were—kept on advancing, shouting savagely, while Coffee and Chicory had been watching their masters attentively, waiting to see what course they would take.
They took their dues from the behaviour of the young Englishmen, and in place of cowering behind, they ran to the front, flourishing their kiris, striking the ground with them, and shouting in their own tongue the while.
“Out of the way, black dogs!” cried Coffee. “Let my lords the big lion-killers with their wonder-guns, come by.”