“I die, I die—but it was a kingly fray. Where are they who came up the great stair? I see them not. Art thou there, Macumazahn, or art thou gone before to wait for me in the dark whither I go? The blood blinds me—the place turns round—I hear the voice of waters.”
Next, as though a new thought had struck him, he lifted the red axe and kissed the blade.
“Farewell, Inkosi-Kaas,” he cried. “Nay, nay, we will go together; we cannot part, thou and I. We have lived too long one with another, thou and I.
“One more stroke, only one! A good stroke! a straight stroke! a strong stroke!” and, drawing himself to his full height, with a wild heart-shaking shout, he with both hands began to whirl the axe round his head till it looked like a circle of flaming steel. Then, suddenly, with awful force he brought it down straight on to the crown of the mass of sacred stone. A shower of sparks flew up, and such was the almost superhuman strength of the blow, that the massive marble split with a rending sound into a score of pieces, while of Inkosi-Kaas there remained but some fragments of steel and a fibrous rope of shattered horn that had been the handle. Down with a crash on to the pavement fell the fragments of the holy stone, and down with a crash on to them, still grasping the knob of Inkosi-Kaas, fell the brave old Zulu—dead. And thus the hero died.
A gasp of wonder and astonishment rose from all those who witnessed the extraordinary sight, and then somebody cried, “The prophecy! the prophecy! He has shattered the sacred stone!” and at once a murmuring arose.
“Ay,” said Nyleptha, with that quick wit which distinguished her—“ay, my people, he has shattered the stone, and behold the prophecy is fulfilled, for a stranger king rules in Zu-Vendis. Incubu, my lord, hath beat Sorais back, and I fear her no more, and to him who hath saved the Crown it shall surely be. And this man,” she said, turning to me and laying her hand upon my shoulder, “wot ye that, though wounded in the fight of yesterday, he rode with that old warrior who lies there, one hundred miles twixt sun set and rise to save me from the plots of cruel men. Ay, and he has saved me, by a very little, and therefore because of the deeds that they have done—deeds of glory such as our history cannot show the like—therefore I say that the name of Macumazahn and the name of dead Umslopogaas, ay, and the name of Kara, my servant, who aided him to hold the stair, shall be blazoned in letters of gold above my throne, and shall be glorious forever while the land endures. I, the Queen, have said it.”
This spirited speech was met with loud cheering, and I said that after all we had only done our duty, as it is the fashion of both Englishmen and Zulus to do, and there was nothing to make an outcry about; at which they cheered still more, and then I was supported across the outer courtyard to my old quarters, in order that I might be put to bed. As I went my eyes lit upon the brave horse Daylight that lay there, his white head outstretched on the pavement, exactly as he had fallen on entering the yard; and I bade those who supported me take me near him, that I might look on the good beast once more before he was dragged away. And as I looked, to my astonishment, he opened his eyes, and, lifting his head a little, whinnied faintly. I could have shouted for joy to find that he was not dead, only unfortunately I had not a shout left in me; but as it was, grooms were sent for and he was lifted up and wine poured down his throat, and in a fortnight he was as well and strong as ever, and is the pride and joy of all the people of Milosis, who, whenever they see him, point him out to the little children as the “horse which saved the White Queen’s life.”
Then I went on and got off to bed, and was washed and had my mail shirt removed. They hurt me a great deal in getting it off, and no wonder, for on my left breast and side was a black bruise the size of a saucer.
The next thing that I remember was the tramp of horsemen outside the palace wall, some ten hours later. I raised myself and asked what was the news, and they told me that a large body of cavalry, sent by Curtis to assist the Queen had arrived from the scene of the battle, which they had left two hours after sundown. When they left the wreck of Sorais’s army was in full retreat upon M’Arstuna, followed by all our effective cavalry. Sir Henry was encamping the remains of his worn-out forces on the site (such is the fortune of war) that Sorais had occupied the night before, and proposed marching on to M’Arstuna on the morrow. Having heard this, I felt that I could die with a light heart, and then everything became a blank.
When next I awoke the first thing I saw was the round disc of a sympathetic eyeglass, behind which was Good.
“How are you getting on, old chap?” said a voice from the neighbourhood of the eyeglass.
“What are you doing here?” I asked faintly. “You ought to be at M’Arstuna; have you run away, or what?”
“M’Arstuna!” he replied cheerfully. “Ah, M’Arstuna fell last week—you’ve been unconscious for a fortnight, you see—with all the
