“I found the trail,” said he, speaking his own tongue, which we all understood save Pedro and Archie—and perhaps the latter caught a few words. “I ran along it swiftly for some distance. Then I heard shouts and the Mopane war song of victory. I knew another band of those devils was approaching us and hid myself to count their numbers. They are many, oh my brother! There has been war, and for this once my people have been defeated. I know not where the battle was fought nor how many were engaged; but victory is with our enemies. On their spears they bear the heads of many brave Itzaex; foremost among them is that of the great, the noble atkayma—my father!”
He broke down again, to renew his sobs.
“Poor Chaka!” said Paul.
There was no time left us for more parley. We began to hear the shouts of the approaching hosts and must prepare for a desperate defense. It was all right for Chaka to grieve over his father; it struck me as a curious coincidence that just as the royal son arrived in his own country, after an absence of many years, the aged atkayma of the Itzaex met his fate at the hands of his persistent enemies.
The Mopanes deployed into the clearing in a dense throng, exultantly shouting their savage paeans. Some blew shrill blasts on conch shells; one or two battered energetically the native kettledrums, made from tortoise shells over which skins were tightly stretched.
At once the new arrivals were joined by the remnant of the band that had first attacked us. I say “remnant” because we must have slain or wounded nearly half of their original number. With eager exclamations they pointed in our direction, and the eyes of every warrior examined us intently. They were standing some distance away, but we could observe their every action distinctly. One huge fellow, who bore a spear with a grinning head set on its point, leaped upon a stump and began haranguing the others, who listened respectfully to his words.
“I wonder if this pop-gun will carry so far,” remarked Archie, and before any could interfere he took careful aim and fired. The chief—as he seemed to be—leaped fully three feet into the air, uttering a terrible cry, and as he fell his people caught him in their arms. But I am sure he was dead or desperately wounded.
This warning induced them all to withdraw into the forest, where doubtless they held a council of war.
CHAPTER X
WE ESCAPE ANNIHILATION
Meantime we nine, trapped as we were, prepared for defense against an army of natives.