Hark to the sullen roar of artillery close at hand! It shakes the darkened hut of the poor prisoner.

Cries of anger and defiance disturb the silence of the majestic hills; men rush by with clattering arms.

The dusky host has gathered on the mountain slopes; they hover about in clouds. Gray recognises the well-known challenge, “Izapa!” it is answered by a volley of musketry. Again the deep-mouthed guns open wide their fiery throats, and a hearty English cheer announces that shot and shell have told upon the savage foe.

But the wild war-cry rings out shrill and strong again; it draws nearer, and is answered by the Fingoes.

Gray could see but little from the aperture of his hut. He noticed though that the Kafirs, emboldened by their superiority of numbers, came muzzle to muzzle with the infantry; they grappled with the soldiers, they snapped their reed-like assegais in two and gave back stab for stab; they gibbered, they leaped, they dropped as if dead into the bush, only to rise the next moment and wound their adversaries in the back; they came bounding down the hills in fresh bodies, among which the British artillery soon began to make havoc; but, for those that fell, numbers started from behind the rocks and shrubs, and dashed forward to the onslaught.

They stepped into the open ground. Up rose the warlike Fingoes from beneath their shields! Their spears glittered in the glowing sun; the mass extended, it spread east and west, and they advanced to the charge.

Slave and master meet in the deadly strife! How the dark eyes of each glare with vengeance and detestation! but the Fingoes not only know the warfare of their enemy, they also fight with the skill and coolness of the British. They will die rather than yield, for they feel that to surrender were worse than death.

And they do conquer, before the outlying picquets posted in the mountain glens, by the experienced orders of Sir Adrian Fairfax, emerge from their ambush to meet the retiring warriors.

It was a deadly struggle. The Kafirs, beaten back from the encampment, hoped to find safe shelter in their strongholds; but Sir Adrian’s policy was as deep as their own. He, too, had had his spies scattered through the land; and albeit these specious savages had sworn to sit still—had humbled themselves like dogs, and sworn by the bones of their dead chiefs to keep faith, he knew that when they professed most they meant least; and, on being informed that Sir John Manvers’s large force was scattered, and that some of the burghers had anticipated their dispersion, and were about to depart, he hurried his march, after closing his treaties with the Boers, whom he contrived also to conciliate, and made such an admirable disposition of his troops that the Kafirs were deceived completely.

The soldiers, dispersed among the kloofs, appeared to the Gaikas to be making roads and hewing wood: they little knew that, at a certain sound of the bugle, they would be up and ready at any hour of the day or night.