“All right, baas,” answered Piet cheerfully, as he took my coat and rifle from me; “I’ll remember all that you say. But I ain’t afraid, baas; you’re not goin’ to die just yet. You’ll beat that black nigger all right.” (The fellow was himself as black as the ace of spades.) “All you got to do, baas, is to take care that he don’ work roun’ you so’s to get the sun in your eyes, that’s all.”
By this time ’Mfuni was once more armed, while Mapela had left him and was wending his way back to his place among his fellow indunas, whose eyes, like those of the king, and indeed every man in the square, were now intently watching every movement of their champion and myself. As I walked leisurely toward ’Mfuni, rolling up my right shirt sleeve the while, I saw that the fellow was watching me keenly as a cat watches a mouse, and, despite my apparent unconcern, I kept an equally wary eye upon him, knowing, from his tense attitude, that he might attack me at any moment. As I now approached him, the sun was immediately behind me, and, mindful of Piet’s advice, I was determined to keep it there, if possible; although there was this disadvantage about the arrangement, that the king, with his group of indunas, was far enough forward on my left front to be just within my range of vision, and any sudden movement upon the part of any of them was liable to attract my attention from my antagonist and leave me open to his attack. But I quickly made up my mind to dismiss them altogether from my thoughts; and at the instant when I came to this resolution ’Mfuni, with a sudden spring, leapt within arm’s length of me, with his spear upraised in the act of striking.
Instantly I threw up my blade in position, ready to parry; but beyond this, and coming to a halt, I took no notice of my antagonist’s movement, for I had already made my plans for the fight, these consisting simply in acting upon the defensive until a favourable opportunity should reveal itself—and keeping my back to the sun. But ’Mfuni was as quick as myself to recognise the advantage that the latter would give me, and did his utmost to deprive me of it by springing first to one side and then to the other, hoping no doubt that I should be tempted to turn and face him, until, by repeated turns, he should contrive to get the sun in my eyes. I defeated this amiable project, however, by keeping my eyes steadfastly fixed upon his, and thus reading and forestalling his intentions—for I have found that the eye is the one feature of the human countenance that will not lend itself to deception; and thus for several minutes we danced hither and thither, right and left, my opponent continually flashing his spear before my eyes and making feints, while I simply held myself ready to parry his stroke the moment that I should see it coming. And presently it came in good earnest, for the patience of the savage is soon worn down—came with the quickness of a lightning flash. But, quick as it was, I intercepted it; the moment I saw that it was really coming, round whirled my blade, and down fell the point of the spear, shorn clean off at its junction with the haft, and ’Mfuni stood disarmed before me.
For the fraction of a second he stood gazing with dilated eyes, apparently unable to realise that he was beaten; then, to my amazement, he stooped swiftly and snatched the severed spearhead from the ground. Unprepared as I was for the action, I yet had enough presence of mind to spring back and away from him; and well was
it for me that I did so, for almost before I could recover from my astonishment the man was upon me, stabbing furiously at me with the spearhead in one hand, while with his shield in the other he covered his body. So sudden and furious was the onslaught that, in spite of myself, I was driven back some half a dozen paces, while a low murmur from the onlookers rapidly strengthened to a deafening roar of applause and encouragement; then, in parrying an unusually vicious stab, I unwittingly slashed the poor fellow across the right hand so severely that he incontinently dropped his blade and once more stood disarmed before me: whereupon, driving him back by threatening him with my point, I stepped forward and placed my foot upon the spearhead.
“Do you yield and admit yourself beaten, ’Mfuni?” I demanded in a low voice.
“I yield; I am beaten, ’Nkos’,” answered the man, lowering his hands. “Strike me now through the heart, I pray thee, and save me from the torture of the ants.”
“Wait!” I enjoined him briefly. Then, turning to the king, I said—the shouts of applause and encouragement having ceased on the instant of ’Mfuni’s discomfiture:
“Thou hast seen, O King! Although thy chosen champion fought well and did his best, I have conquered him with this weapon, of which thou wert inclined to think so little. Art thou still inclined to think lightly of it; or art thou convinced that it is a good weapon, capable of protecting a man’s life in the heat of battle?”