finished_summaries/gradesaver/King Solomon's Mines/section_7_part_0.txt
King Solomon's Mines.chapters 13-14
chapters 13-14
{"name": "Chapters 13 and 14", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20200804024551/https://www.gradesaver.com/king-solomons-mines/study-guide/summary-chapters-13-and-14", "summary": "As the threefold forces of Twala approach their location, Good expresses a wish for a Gatling gun to mow them down. He then taunts Quatermain into taking a long shot at the apparent general of the middle forces, wagering a sovereign against Quatermain's success. Irked at this challenge to his marksmanship, Quatermain takes aim with his Winchester and fires on the Kukuana leader. He misses, but strikes the leader's orderly dead, frightening his target. Good delivers a backhanded compliment to Quatermain for frightening the general, so Quatermain takes up his rifle again and shoots the general. He realizes after the fact how strong his pride was in his marksmanship, since he took delight in the death of another human being upon his success. With two of their number being mysteriously struck down by the white magic, the middle forces pull back in disarray. Good and Sir Henry fire into the regiment as well, and all told the men take down from eight to ten of their enemies before they get out of range. Delighted to have routed Twala's men, they are surprised when they hear sounds of the left and right flanks attacking. Twala's men shout Twala! Twala! Chiele! Cheile! while Ignosi's army answers with Ignosi! Ignosi! Chiele! Chiele! Before long the first and second lines of defense are broken, leaving Ignosi's third line in the fray. Sir Henry, Good, Quatermain, and Ignosi himself join in direct combat. The fighting is furious, with Sir Henry especially making a name for himself on the battlefield with his battle-axe. Ignosi's right line of defense manage to drive Twala's attack back, but Twala's left flank brekas through and drives Ignosi's forces toward the center. Eventually Quatermain comes face-to-face with an enemy Kukuana, whom he dispatches, but then he is struck from behind and rendered unconscious. A short time later, Quatermain awakens to find Good kneeling over him. He has only been dazed by the attack. Good informs him that Twala's forces have been repulsed for the time being. Ignosi's men begin to take stock of their dead and wounded, with their witch -doctors doing triage to determine which men's wounds are fatal. Quatermain observes the witch doctor's surreptitiously euthanizing the mortally wounded men so that their deaths are painless; Quatermain admits that this that, although he finds this distasteful, it is probably the most humane thing that can be done at the time. Sir Henry, Ignosi, and Infadoos confer on their next strategy. Twala has decided to lay siege to Ignosi's camp to starve them out; this situation is made worse by the fact that their water has already run out. Infadoos asks Quatermain to give his counsel. Infadoos outlines three options: remain on the hill and starve to death, attempt to break through to the north, or attack Twala's forces head-on. Sir Henry has already counseled a direct attack. Quatermain mulls it over, and then concludes that the direct assault is the best option. Though he thinks it a doomed effort, he believes an immediate charge on Twala's forces will help them take advantage of Twala's wounded forces, and will provide less time for the forces of Ignosi to become disheartened and change sides. Ignosi considers his counselors' words, and then declares his intention to attack Twala that same day. He proposes a strategy whereby Infadoos and Sir Henry take a body of men directly toward Twala's forces, down the hill between two arms of the crescent-shaped formation. Twala's forces will become occupied with this attack, but will also be more vulnerable as they can only approach the enemy in small numbers. While this fighting ensues, Captain Good will take a third of the men behind the right horn of the crescent, while Ignosi and Quatermain will take the remaining third behind the left horn. At the optimal moment, both sides will strike and Ignosi will head directly for Twala, to kill him and end this civil war immediately. Although the plan means likely death for Ignosi, Sir Henry, and their men, they face it with stoicism and bravery. Sir Henry declares that although he does not expect to survive, at least It will be \"a man's death!\" Quatermain, ever the pessimist, has misgivings but does not voice them in the interest of maintaining morale. The army of Ignosi separates into the assigned regiments, one on each flank of the curved bluff, and two--the eminent Greys and their backup, the Buffaloes, heading down the center. Infadoos commands the Greys; as they wait for the moment of battle, he keeps their morale up by emphasizing the honor of their service to Ignosi and the importance of their probably mortal office. Quatermain, taking his place with Ignosi among the Buffaloes, cannot help but contrast their stalwart bravery with his own mounting anxiety. Infadoos ends his exhortation by indicating Ignosi as their rightful ruler; he is met with the honor-bearing beating of the soldiers' spears upon their shields. Following this grand homage, the Greys make three lines and march toward the center of the crescent to draw Twala's forces in for the finishing assault. As the Buffaloes follow the Greys, Quatermain ponders the Greys' suicidal loyalty. He attempts to assuage his fears by reminding himself of an account wherein three Romans held a bridge against thousands, but it is little use--he knows the Greys, and probably most of the Buffaloes as well, are destined to die this day. The Greys await the approach of Twala's forces at the opening in the crescent bluff. When Twala's army gets within charging distance, the Greys rush into them and attack. They repulse Twala's army at first, but it costs them a third of their forces. As they await Twala's second wave, Quatermain is relieved to see the blonde head of Sir Henry among the Greys, still alive despite the bloodshed. Meanwhile, Ignosi gives the order that none of Twala's wounded are to be killed, an act of kindness that mostly goes unseen in the throes of battle. Twala's forces again advance, and the Greys still hold the line. This time, however, the battle lasts longer with the outcome in doubt. The Greys manage to yet again drive back Twala's forces, but are left with less than a third of their original number alive. Twala's forces regroup and advance, but at this moment Ignosi gives his battle cry and heads into the fray, making straight for Twala. Twala, meanwhile, has sought out Sir Henry, to kill him as the white man killed his own son. Twala drives Sir Henry to his knees with a crushing blow, but suddenly the fresh regiments from either side of the crescent arrive to entrap Twala's forces The battle is bloody and fierce, but the forces of Ignosi are victorious. However, Ignosi is unable to face Twala in direct combat before the enemy leader escapes back to his city. En route to Loo, Quatermain and the others espy Captain Good sitting atop an ant-heap near the body of one of Twala's Kukuana soldiers. Before anyone can cry out, the seemingly dead Kukuana arises and strikes Good, knocking him to the ground. The enemy warrior then strikes repeatedly at Good with his spear, apparently killing the white man, before running off to join his own army. When Quatermain and the others reach Good, he is working his way back to his feet, eyeglass still in place. He credits the chain mail armor he is wearing with saving his life from the Kukuana's vicious spear-thrusts. When his forces reach Loo, Ignosi promises the inhabitants full pardon to any warrior who lays down his arms. The city surrenders to Ignosi and the gates are opened. Ignosi and his retinue head to the central enclosure, where Twala sits brooding, alone save for Gagool. Twala acknowledges Ignosi's victory and recognizes Ignosi's right to kill him as Twala killed Ignosi's father, but he asks a royal boon--his death shall be trial by combat. Ignosi hesitantly agrees, but reminds Twala that the king is forbidden to enter into single combat by law. Twala has his eyes on another target--he wishes to battle Sir Henry to the death. Although Quatermain and others attempt to dissuade him, Sir Henry readily agrees to battle Twala. The two men fight viciously, with no one gaining the upper hand, but then Twala is able to knock Sir Henry's battle-axe from his hands. Sir Henry draws his tolla to attempt a stab at Twala, but is unable to penetrate the Kukuana's armor. Twala and Sir Henry struggle over Twala's axe, with Sir Henry managing at the last instant to pull it from Twala's grasp. Even as Twala draws his own tolla and stabs at Sir Henry , Sir Henry swings the axe and decapitates Twala on the spot. Quatermain removes the diamond crown from Twala's head and gives it to Ignosi, proclaiming him \"lawful King of the Kukuanas.\" There is a victory celebration and songs of epic proportions as the night falls.", "analysis": "Quatermain reveals more of his character in the incident of the long-range shooting.  His rivalry with Captain Good has remained below the surface since the \"lucky\" shot at the giraffe, but Quatermain has made it clear to the reader that he sees Good as his inferior in matters of firearms.  This internal rivalry drives Quatermain to thoughtlessly take the life of another human being in order to prove his superiority--an act which Quatermain immediately regrets:  \"This time I had made no mistake; and--I say it as proof of how little we think of others when our own pride or reputation are in question--I was brute enough to feel delighted at the sight\" .  This moment of human sympathies rounds out Quatermain's character, giving us a glimpse of a very real man who lives a life of bloodshed, but not by choice or out of sadistic pleasure.  To get this moment of insight into Quatermain just prior to the bloodiest incident in the novel serves to make the battle not merely an exercise in heroism, but a sorrowful necessity when evil men oppose those who are in the right. The Greys are introduced more fully here.  They are the eldest and most able of the Kukuana warriors.  That they have sided with Ignosi is a sign to other Kukuanas that Ignosi is the rightful king; their presence in Ignosi's army will also serve to put fear into the hearts of those loyal to Twala.  They are brave men, but also doomed ; their position in the battle is to hold a small pass against innumerable enemies for as long as possible--meaning until they are all dead. Quatermain also demonstrates his ability to think strategically, despite his fatalism.  When asked his thoughts on their attack strategy, given their dire circumstances, he tells Ignosi:  \"Being trapped, our best chance, especially in view of the failure of our water supply, was to initiate an attack upon Twala's forces, and then I recommended that the attack should be delivered at once\" .  Ignosi considers and heeds his words, and Quatermain notes that \"among the Kukuanas my utterances met with a respect which has never been accorded to them before or since\" .  Clearly, despite his self-deprecation as a coward and his pessimism, Quatermain has a brave heart ready to follow the dictates of wise combat over self-preservation.  Meanwhile, Ignosi proves to be a brilliant strategist; he seeks counsel from those with differing experiences from himself, then settled on a plan which has the greatest chance of success.  A born leader, he does not hesitate to place his men or himself in great peril for the greater good.  His insistence that Quatermain accompany his part in the maneuvers is interesting; Haggard does not make it clear whether Ignosi includes Quatermain there because he does not fully trust the man, because he wants Quatermain to see Ignosi's military prowess, or because Quatermain really can best serve here, if only in his capacity as a natural survivor. The reader is again treated to echoes of The Iliad as Infadoos encourages the soldiers through oratory just prior to their battle.  The virtues of giving one's life for a worthy cause are extolled, while the likelihood of death in battle is not ignored.  An African  bent is given to Infadoos' exortation, as the history of service to the rightful king is recounted to give the Kukuanas a sense of their place in history. The single combat between Twala and Sir Henry again parallels The Iliad's confrontation between Hector and Achilles.  Although he has threatened Twala directly in battle, Ignosi is not free to enter into single combat with Twala once the fighting ends.  The conflict has become ceremonial, a last choice on the part of the clearly defeated Twala, but is nonetheless significant as it is Twala's search for vengeance against the murderer of his son.  That the others seek to dissuade Sir Henry from entering combat with Twala shows how fearful an opponent the deposed Kukuana king is; that Sir Henry enters into the battle anyway shows both his courage and his pride. Quatermain is shown to be human, still, in his confession at his own anxiety in contrast to the others' courage.  He is not a soldier or warrior--he is a hunter, trader, and sometime adventurer who did not sign up to fight in a foreign king's war.  Nonetheless, Quatermain supports Ignosi despite his fears, and will show that support through service unto death if necessary.  For all his protestations of cowardice, Quatermain is indeed a brave man, and Quatermain's self-assessment of cowardice may in fact be Haggard's clever way of pointing out the follies of bloodshed and violent ideals of \"manliness.\"  Quatermain has already stated how he regrets having killed a man merely to defend his pride; now Sir Henry engages in a fight he is not guaranteed to win in order to do the same.  Through Quatermain, Haggard seems to be suggesting that the motives of even good men may not always be as selfless and honorable as we would like.  While Sir Henry is clearly the heroic champion in this incident, the fact remains that it is wounded pride that goads him into accepting Twala's challenge. Much is made of the chainmail armor worn by the white men.  Twala's gift to them upon their arrival has proven his undoing.  Good is saved from a mortal wound by the chainmail, and Sir Henry's armor deflects Twala's last desperate strike.  The irony is clear:  Twala's gifts come from a civilization older than and superior to the Kukuanas; it is these gifts which aid the next civilization  in destroying Twala's version of Kukuanaland.  The dominance of the white culture is symbolized in Quatermain's act of taking the crown from Twala and placing it upon Ignosi's brow--Ignosi is the rightful king, but in part this is because he is recognized as such by a European power."}
Slowly, and without the slightest appearance of haste or excitement,
the three columns crept on. When within about five hundred yards of us,
the main or centre column halted at the root of a tongue of open plain
which ran up into the hill, to give time to the other divisions to
circumvent our position, which was shaped more or less in the form of a
horse-shoe, with its two points facing towards the town of Loo. The
object of this manoeuvre was that the threefold assault should be
delivered simultaneously.

"Oh, for a gatling!" groaned Good, as he contemplated the serried
phalanxes beneath us. "I would clear that plain in twenty minutes."

"We have not got one, so it is no use yearning for it; but suppose you
try a shot, Quatermain," said Sir Henry. "See how near you can go to
that tall fellow who appears to be in command. Two to one you miss him,
and an even sovereign, to be honestly paid if ever we get out of this,
that you don't drop the bullet within five yards."


This piqued me, so, loading the express with solid ball, I waited till
my friend walked some ten yards out from his force, in order to get a
better view of our position, accompanied only by an orderly; then,
lying down and resting the express on a rock, I covered him. The rifle,
like all expresses, was only sighted to three hundred and fifty yards,
so to allow for the drop in trajectory I took him half-way down the
neck, which ought, I calculated, to find him in the chest. He stood
quite still and gave me every opportunity, but whether it was the
excitement or the wind, or the fact of the man being a long shot, I
don't know, but this was what happened. Getting dead on, as I thought,
a fine sight, I pressed, and when the puff of smoke had cleared away,
to my disgust, I saw my man standing there unharmed, whilst his
orderly, who was at least three paces to the left, was stretched upon
the ground apparently dead. Turning swiftly, the officer I had aimed at
began to run towards his men in evident alarm.

"Bravo, Quatermain!" sang out Good; "you've frightened him."

This made me very angry, for, if possible to avoid it, I hate to miss
in public. When a man is master of only one art he likes to keep up his
reputation in that art. Moved quite out of myself at my failure, I did
a rash thing. Rapidly covering the general as he ran, I let drive with
the second barrel. Instantly the poor man threw up his arms, and fell
forward on to his face. This time I had made no mistake; and--I say it
as a proof of how little we think of others when our own safety, pride,
or reputation is in question--I was brute enough to feel delighted at
the sight.

The regiments who had seen the feat cheered wildly at this exhibition
of the white man's magic, which they took as an omen of success, while
the force the general had belonged to--which, indeed, as we ascertained
afterwards, he had commanded--fell back in confusion. Sir Henry and
Good now took up their rifles and began to fire, the latter
industriously "browning" the dense mass before him with another
Winchester repeater, and I also had another shot or two, with the
result, so far as we could judge, that we put some six or eight men
_hors de combat_ before they were out of range.

Just as we stopped firing there came an ominous roar from our far
right, then a similar roar rose on our left. The two other divisions
were engaging us.

At the sound, the mass of men before us opened out a little, and
advanced towards the hill and up the spit of bare grass land at a slow
trot, singing a deep-throated song as they ran. We kept up a steady
fire from our rifles as they came, Ignosi joining in occasionally, and
accounted for several men, but of course we produced no more effect
upon that mighty rush of armed humanity than he who throws pebbles does
on the breaking wave.

On they came, with a shout and the clashing of spears; now they were
driving in the pickets we had placed among the rocks at the foot of the
hill. After that the advance was a little slower, for though as yet we
had offered no serious opposition, the attacking forces must climb up
hill, and they came slowly to save their breath. Our first line of
defence was about half-way down the side of the slope, our second fifty
yards further back, while our third occupied the edge of the plateau.

On they stormed, shouting their war-cry, "_Twala! Twala! Chiele!
Chiele!_" (Twala! Twala! Smite! Smite!) "_Ignosi! Ignosi! Chiele!
Chiele!_" answered our people. They were quite close now, and the
_tollas_, or throwing-knives, began to flash backwards and forwards,
and now with an awful yell the battle closed in.

To and fro swayed the mass of struggling warriors, men falling fast as
leaves in an autumn wind; but before long the superior weight of the
attacking force began to tell, and our first line of defence was slowly
pressed back till it merged into the second. Here the struggle was very
fierce, but again our people were driven back and up, till at length,
within twenty minutes of the commencement of the fight, our third line
came into action.

But by this time the assailants were much exhausted, and besides had
lost many men killed and wounded, and to break through that third
impenetrable hedge of spears proved beyond their powers. For a while
the seething lines of savages swung backwards and forwards, in the
fierce ebb and flow of battle, and the issue was doubtful. Sir Henry
watched the desperate struggle with a kindling eye, and then without a
word he rushed off, followed by Good, and flung himself into the
hottest of the fray. As for myself, I stopped where I was.

The soldiers caught sight of his tall form as he plunged into battle,
and there rose a cry of--

"_Nanzia Incubu! Nanzia Unkungunklovo!_" (Here is the Elephant!)
"_Chiele! Chiele!_"

From that moment the end was no longer in doubt. Inch by inch, fighting
with splendid gallantry, the attacking force was pressed back down the
hillside, till at last it retreated upon its reserves in something like
confusion. At that instant, too, a messenger arrived to say that the
left attack had been repulsed; and I was just beginning to congratulate
myself, believing that the affair was over for the present, when, to
our horror, we perceived our men who had been engaged in the right
defence being driven towards us across the plain, followed by swarms of
the enemy, who had evidently succeeded at this point.

Ignosi, who was standing by me, took in the situation at a glance, and
issued a rapid order. Instantly the reserve regiment around us, the
Greys, extended itself.

Again Ignosi gave a word of command, which was taken up and repeated by
the captains, and in another second, to my intense disgust, I found
myself involved in a furious onslaught upon the advancing foe. Getting
as much as I could behind Ignosi's huge frame, I made the best of a bad
job, and toddled along to be killed as though I liked it. In a minute
or two--we were plunging through the flying groups of our men, who at
once began to re-form behind us, and then I am sure I do not know what
happened. All I can remember is a dreadful rolling noise of the meeting
of shields, and the sudden apparition of a huge ruffian, whose eyes
seemed literally to be starting out of his head, making straight at me
with a bloody spear. But--I say it with pride--I rose--or rather
sank--to the occasion. It was one before which most people would have
collapsed once and for all. Seeing that if I stood where I was I must
be killed, as the horrid apparition came I flung myself down in front
of him so cleverly that, being unable to stop himself, he took a header
right over my prostrate form. Before he could rise again, _I_ had risen
and settled the matter from behind with my revolver.

Shortly after this somebody knocked me down, and I remember no more of
that charge.

When I came to I found myself back at the koppie, with Good bending
over me holding some water in a gourd.

"How do you feel, old fellow?" he asked anxiously.

I got up and shook myself before replying.

"Pretty well, thank you," I answered.

"Thank Heaven! When I saw them carry you in, I felt quite sick; I
thought you were done for."

"Not this time, my boy. I fancy I only got a rap on the head, which
knocked me stupid. How has it ended?"

"They are repulsed at every point for a while. The loss is dreadfully
heavy; we have quite two thousand killed and wounded, and they must
have lost three. Look, there's a sight!" and he pointed to long lines
of men advancing by fours.

In the centre of every group of four, and being borne by it, was a kind
of hide tray, of which a Kukuana force always carries a quantity, with
a loop for a handle at each corner. On these trays--and their number
seemed endless--lay wounded men, who as they arrived were hastily
examined by the medicine men, of whom ten were attached to a regiment.
If the wound was not of a fatal character the sufferer was taken away
and attended to as carefully as circumstances would allow. But if, on
the other hand, the injured man's condition proved hopeless, what
followed was very dreadful, though doubtless it may have been the
truest mercy. One of the doctors, under pretence of carrying out an
examination, swiftly opened an artery with a sharp knife, and in a
minute or two the sufferer expired painlessly. There were many cases
that day in which this was done. In fact, it was done in the majority
of cases when the wound was in the body, for the gash made by the entry
of the enormously broad spears used by the Kukuanas generally rendered
recovery impossible. In most instances the poor sufferers were already
unconscious, and in others the fatal "nick" of the artery was inflicted
so swiftly and painlessly that they did not seem to notice it. Still it
was a ghastly sight, and one from which we were glad to escape; indeed,
I never remember anything of the kind that affected me more than seeing
those gallant soldiers thus put out of pain by the red-handed medicine
men, except, indeed, on one occasion when, after an attack, I saw a
force of Swazis burying their hopelessly wounded _alive_.

Hurrying from this dreadful scene to the further side of the koppie, we
found Sir Henry, who still held a battle-axe in his hand, Ignosi,
Infadoos, and one or two of the chiefs in deep consultation.

"Thank Heaven, here you are, Quatermain! I can't quite make out what
Ignosi wants to do. It seems that though we have beaten off the attack,
Twala is now receiving large reinforcements, and is showing a
disposition to invest us, with the view of starving us out."

"That's awkward."

"Yes; especially as Infadoos says that the water supply has given out."

"My lord, that is so," said Infadoos; "the spring cannot supply the
wants of so great a multitude, and it is failing rapidly. Before night
we shall all be thirsty. Listen, Macumazahn. Thou art wise, and hast
doubtless seen many wars in the lands from whence thou camest--that is
if indeed they make wars in the Stars. Now tell us, what shall we do?
Twala has brought up many fresh men to take the place of those who have
fallen. Yet Twala has learnt his lesson; the hawk did not think to find
the heron ready; but our beak has pierced his breast; he fears to
strike at us again. We too are wounded, and he will wait for us to die;
he will wind himself round us like a snake round a buck, and fight the
fight of 'sit down.'"

"I hear thee," I said.

"So, Macumazahn, thou seest we have no water here, and but a little
food, and we must choose between these three things--to languish like a
starving lion in his den, or to strive to break away towards the north,
or"--and here he rose and pointed towards the dense mass of our
foes--"to launch ourselves straight at Twala's throat. Incubu, the
great warrior--for to-day he fought like a buffalo in a net, and
Twala's soldiers went down before his axe like young corn before the
hail; with these eyes I saw it--Incubu says 'Charge'; but the Elephant
is ever prone to charge. Now what says Macumazahn, the wily old fox,
who has seen much, and loves to bite his enemy from behind? The last
word is in Ignosi the king, for it is a king's right to speak of war;
but let us hear thy voice, O Macumazahn, who watchest by night, and the
voice too of him of the transparent eye."

"What sayest thou, Ignosi," I asked.

"Nay, my father," answered our quondam servant, who now, clad as he was
in the full panoply of savage war, looked every inch a warrior king,
"do thou speak, and let me, who am but a child in wisdom beside thee,
hearken to thy words."

Thus adjured, after taking hasty counsel with Good and Sir Henry, I
delivered my opinion briefly to the effect that, being trapped, our
best chance, especially in view of the failure of our water supply, was
to initiate an attack upon Twala's forces. Then I recommended that the
attack should be delivered at once, "before our wounds grew stiff," and
also before the sight of Twala's overpowering force caused the hearts
of our soldiers "to wax small like fat before a fire." Otherwise, I
pointed out, some of the captains might change their minds, and, making
peace with Twala, desert to him, or even betray us into his hands.

This expression of opinion seemed, on the whole, to be favourably
received; indeed, among the Kukuanas my utterances met with a respect
which has never been accorded to them before or since. But the real
decision as to our plans lay with Ignosi, who, since he had been
recognised as rightful king, could exercise the almost unbounded rights
of sovereignty, including, of course, the final decision on matters of
generalship, and it was to him that all eyes were now turned.

At length, after a pause, during which he appeared to be thinking
deeply, he spoke.

"Incubu, Macumazahn, and Bougwan, brave white men, and my friends;
Infadoos, my uncle, and chiefs; my heart is fixed. I will strike at
Twala this day, and set my fortunes on the blow, ay, and my life--my
life and your lives also. Listen; thus will I strike. Ye see how the
hill curves round like the half-moon, and how the plain runs like a
green tongue towards us within the curve?"

"We see," I answered.

"Good; it is now mid-day, and the men eat and rest after the toil of
battle. When the sun has turned and travelled a little way towards the
darkness, let thy regiment, my uncle, advance with one other down to
the green tongue, and it shall be that when Twala sees it he will hurl
his force at it to crush it. But the spot is narrow, and the regiments
can come against thee one at a time only; so may they be destroyed one
by one, and the eyes of all Twala's army shall be fixed upon a struggle
the like of which has not been seen by living man. And with thee, my
uncle, shall go Incubu my friend, that when Twala sees his battle-axe
flashing in the first rank of the Greys his heart may grow faint. And I
will come with the second regiment, that which follows thee, so that if
ye are destroyed, as it might happen, there may yet be a king left to
fight for; and with me shall come Macumazahn the wise."

"It is well, O king," said Infadoos, apparently contemplating the
certainty of the complete annihilation of his regiment with perfect
calmness. Truly, these Kukuanas are a wonderful people. Death has no
terrors for them when it is incurred in the course of duty.

"And whilst the eyes of the multitude of Twala's soldiers are thus
fixed upon the fight," went on Ignosi, "behold, one-third of the men
who are left alive to us (i.e. about 6,000) shall creep along the right
horn of the hill and fall upon the left flank of Twala's force, and
one-third shall creep along the left horn and fall upon Twala's right
flank. And when I see that the horns are ready to toss Twala, then will
I, with the men who remain to me, charge home in Twala's face, and if
fortune goes with us the day will be ours, and before Night drives her
black oxen from the mountains to the mountains we shall sit in peace at
Loo. And now let us eat and make ready; and, Infadoos, do thou prepare,
that the plan be carried out without fail; and stay, let my white
father Bougwan go with the right horn, that his shining eye may give
courage to the captains."

The arrangements for attack thus briefly indicated were set in motion
with a rapidity that spoke well for the perfection of the Kukuana
military system. Within little more than an hour rations had been
served out and devoured, the divisions were formed, the scheme of
onslaught was explained to the leaders, and the whole force, numbering
about 18,000 men, was ready to move, with the exception of a guard left
in charge of the wounded.

Presently Good came up to Sir Henry and myself.

"Good-bye, you fellows," he said; "I am off with the right wing
according to orders; and so I have come to shake hands, in case we
should not meet again, you know," he added significantly.

We shook hands in silence, and not without the exhibition of as much
emotion as Anglo-Saxons are wont to show.

"It is a queer business," said Sir Henry, his deep voice shaking a
little, "and I confess I never expect to see to-morrow's sun. So far as
I can make out, the Greys, with whom I am to go, are to fight until
they are wiped out in order to enable the wings to slip round unawares
and outflank Twala. Well, so be it; at any rate, it will be a man's
death. Good-bye, old fellow. God bless you! I hope you will pull
through and live to collar the diamonds; but if you do, take my advice
and don't have anything more to do with Pretenders!"

In another second Good had wrung us both by the hand and gone; and then
Infadoos came up and led off Sir Henry to his place in the forefront of
the Greys, whilst, with many misgivings, I departed with Ignosi to my
station in the second attacking regiment.


In a few more minutes the regiments destined to carry out the flanking
movements had tramped off in silence, keeping carefully to the lee of
the rising ground in order to conceal their advance from the keen eyes
of Twala's scouts.

Half an hour or more was allowed to elapse between the setting out of
the horns or wings of the army before any stir was made by the Greys
and their supporting regiment, known as the Buffaloes, which formed its
chest, and were destined to bear the brunt of the battle.

Both of these regiments were almost perfectly fresh, and of full
strength, the Greys having been in reserve in the morning, and having
lost but a small number of men in sweeping back that part of the attack
which had proved successful in breaking the line of defence, on the
occasion when I charged with them and was stunned for my pains. As for
the Buffaloes, they had formed the third line of defence on the left,
and since the attacking force at that point had not succeeded in
breaking through the second, they had scarcely come into action at all.

Infadoos, who was a wary old general, and knew the absolute importance
of keeping up the spirits of his men on the eve of such a desperate
encounter, employed the pause in addressing his own regiment, the
Greys, in poetical language: explaining to them the honour that they
were receiving in being put thus in the forefront of the battle, and in
having the great white warrior from the Stars to fight with them in
their ranks; and promising large rewards of cattle and promotion to all
who survived in the event of Ignosi's arms being successful.

I looked down the long lines of waving black plumes and stern faces
beneath them, and sighed to think that within one short hour most, if
not all, of those magnificent veteran warriors, not a man of whom was
under forty years of age, would be laid dead or dying in the dust. It
could not be otherwise; they were being condemned, with that wise
recklessness of human life which marks the great general, and often
saves his forces and attains his ends, to certain slaughter, in order
to give their cause and the remainder of the army a chance of success.
They were foredoomed to die, and they knew the truth. It was to be
their task to engage regiment after regiment of Twala's army on the
narrow strip of green beneath us, till they were exterminated or till
the wings found a favourable opportunity for their onslaught. And yet
they never hesitated, nor could I detect a sign of fear upon the face
of a single warrior. There they were--going to certain death, about to
quit the blessed light of day for ever, and yet able to contemplate
their doom without a tremor. Even at that moment I could not help
contrasting their state of mind with my own, which was far from
comfortable, and breathing a sigh of envy and admiration. Never before
had I seen such an absolute devotion to the idea of duty, and such a
complete indifference to its bitter fruits.

"Behold your king!" ended old Infadoos, pointing to Ignosi; "go fight
and fall for him, as is the duty of brave men, and cursed and shameful
for ever be the name of him who shrinks from death for his king, or who
turns his back to the foe. Behold your king, chiefs, captains, and
soldiers! Now do your homage to the sacred Snake, and then follow on,
that Incubu and I may show you a road to the heart of Twala's host."

There was a moment's pause, then suddenly a murmur arose from the
serried phalanxes before us, a sound like the distant whisper of the
sea, caused by the gentle tapping of the handles of six thousand spears
against their holders' shields. Slowly it swelled, till its growing
volume deepened and widened into a roar of rolling noise, that echoed
like thunder against the mountains, and filled the air with heavy waves
of sound. Then it decreased, and by faint degrees died away into
nothing, and suddenly out crashed the royal salute.

Ignosi, I thought to myself, might well be a proud man that day, for no
Roman emperor ever had such a salutation from gladiators "about to die."

Ignosi acknowledged this magnificent act of homage by lifting his
battle-axe, and then the Greys filed off in a triple-line formation,
each line containing about one thousand fighting men, exclusive of
officers. When the last companies had advanced some five hundred yards,
Ignosi put himself at the head of the Buffaloes, which regiment was
drawn up in a similar three-fold formation, and gave the word to march,
and off we went, I, needless to say, uttering the most heartfelt
prayers that I might emerge from that entertainment with a whole skin.
Many a queer position have I found myself in, but never before in one
quite so unpleasant as the present, or one in which my chance of coming
off safe was smaller.

By the time that we reached the edge of the plateau the Greys were
already half-way down the slope ending in the tongue of grass land that
ran up into the bend of the mountain, something as the frog of a
horse's foot runs up into the shoe. The excitement in Twala's camp on
the plain beyond was very great, and regiment after regiment was
starting forward at a long swinging trot in order to reach the root of
the tongue of land before the attacking force could emerge into the
plain of Loo.

This tongue, which was some four hundred yards in depth, even at its
root or widest part was not more than six hundred and fifty paces
across, while at its tip it scarcely measured ninety. The Greys, who,
in passing down the side of the hill and on to the tip of the tongue,
had formed into a column, on reaching the spot where it broadened out
again, reassumed their triple-line formation, and halted dead.

Then we--that is, the Buffaloes--moved down the tip of the tongue and
took our stand in reserve, about one hundred yards behind the last line
of the Greys, and on slightly higher ground. Meanwhile we had leisure
to observe Twala's entire force, which evidently had been reinforced
since the morning attack, and could not now, notwithstanding their
losses, number less than forty thousand, moving swiftly up towards us.
But as they drew near the root of the tongue they hesitated, having
discovered that only one regiment could advance into the gorge at a
time, and that there, some seventy yards from the mouth of it,
unassailable except in front, on account of the high walls of
boulder-strewn ground on each side, stood the famous regiment of Greys,
the pride and glory of the Kukuana army, ready to hold the way against
their power as the three Romans once held the bridge against thousands.

They hesitated, and finally stopped their advance; there was no
eagerness to cross spears with these three grim ranks of warriors who
stood so firm and ready. Presently, however, a tall general, wearing
the customary head-dress of nodding ostrich plumes, appeared, attended
by a group of chiefs and orderlies, being, I thought, none other than
Twala himself. He gave an order, and the first regiment, raising a
shout, charged up towards the Greys, who remained perfectly still and
silent till the attacking troops were within forty yards, and a volley
of _tollas_, or throwing-knives, came rattling among their ranks.

Then suddenly with a bound and a roar, they sprang forward with
uplifted spears, and the regiment met in deadly strife. Next second the
roll of the meeting shields came to our ears like the sound of thunder,
and the plain seemed to be alive with flashes of light reflected from
the shimmering spears. To and fro swung the surging mass of struggling,
stabbing humanity, but not for long. Suddenly the attacking lines began
to grow thinner, and then with a slow, long heave the Greys passed over
them, just as a great wave heaves up its bulk and passes over a sunken
ridge. It was done; that regiment was completely destroyed, but the
Greys had but two lines left now; a third of their number were dead.

Closing up shoulder to shoulder, once more they halted in silence and
awaited attack; and I was rejoiced to catch sight of Sir Henry's yellow
beard as he moved to and fro arranging the ranks. So he was yet alive!

Meanwhile we moved on to the ground of the encounter, which was
cumbered by about four thousand prostrate human beings, dead, dying,
and wounded, and literally stained red with blood. Ignosi issued an
order, which was rapidly passed down the ranks, to the effect that none
of the enemy's wounded were to be killed, and so far as we could see
this command was scrupulously carried out. It would have been a
shocking sight, if we had found time to think of such things.

But now a second regiment, distinguished by white plumes, kilts, and
shields, was moving to the attack of the two thousand remaining Greys,
who stood waiting in the same ominous silence as before, till the foe
was within forty yards or so, when they hurled themselves with
irresistible force upon them. Again there came the awful roll of the
meeting shields, and as we watched the tragedy repeated itself.

But this time the issue was left longer in doubt; indeed, it seemed for
awhile almost impossible that the Greys should again prevail. The
attacking regiment, which was formed of young men, fought with the
utmost fury, and at first seemed by sheer weight to be driving the
veterans back. The slaughter was truly awful, hundreds falling every
minute; and from among the shouts of the warriors and the groans of the
dying, set to the music of clashing spears, came a continuous hissing
undertone of "_S'gee, s'gee_," the note of triumph of each victor as he
passed his assegai through and through the body of his fallen foe.

But perfect discipline and steady and unchanging valour can do wonders,
and one veteran soldier is worth two young ones, as soon became
apparent in the present case. For just when we thought that it was all
over with the Greys, and were preparing to take their place so soon as
they made room by being destroyed, I heard Sir Henry's deep voice
ringing out through the din, and caught a glimpse of his circling
battle-axe as he waved it high above his plumes. Then came a change;
the Greys ceased to give; they stood still as a rock, against which the
furious waves of spearmen broke again and again, only to recoil.
Presently they began to move once more--forward this time; as they had
no firearms there was no smoke, so we could see it all. Another minute
and the onslaught grew fainter.

"Ah, these are _men_, indeed; they will conquer again," called out
Ignosi, who was grinding his teeth with excitement at my side. "See, it
is done!"

Suddenly, like puffs of smoke from the mouth of a cannon, the attacking
regiment broke away in flying groups, their white head-dresses
streaming behind them in the wind, and left their opponents victors,
indeed, but, alas! no more a regiment. Of the gallant triple line,
which forty minutes before had gone into action three thousand strong,
there remained at most some six hundred blood-spattered men; the rest
were under foot. And yet they cheered and waved their spears in
triumph, and then, instead of falling back upon us as we expected, they
ran forward, for a hundred yards or so, after the flying groups of
foemen, took possession of a rising knoll of ground, and, resuming
their triple formation, formed a threefold ring around its base. And
there, thanks be to Heaven, standing on the top of the mound for a
minute, I saw Sir Henry, apparently unharmed, and with him our old
friend Infadoos. Then Twala's regiments rolled down upon the doomed
band, and once more the battle closed in.

As those who read this history will probably long ago have gathered, I
am, to be honest, a bit of a coward, and certainly in no way given to
fighting, though somehow it has often been my lot to get into
unpleasant positions, and to be obliged to shed man's blood. But I have
always hated it, and kept my own blood as undiminished in quantity as
possible, sometimes by a judicious use of my heels. At this moment,
however, for the first time in my life, I felt my bosom burn with
martial ardour. Warlike fragments from the "Ingoldsby Legends,"
together with numbers of sanguinary verses in the Old Testament, sprang
up in my brain like mushrooms in the dark; my blood, which hitherto had
been half-frozen with horror, went beating through my veins, and there
came upon me a savage desire to kill and spare not. I glanced round at
the serried ranks of warriors behind us, and somehow, all in an
instant, I began to wonder if my face looked like theirs. There they
stood, the hands twitching, the lips apart, the fierce features
instinct with the hungry lust of battle, and in the eyes a look like
the glare of a bloodhound when after long pursuit he sights his quarry.

Only Ignosi's heart, to judge from his comparative self-possession,
seemed, to all appearances, to beat as calmly as ever beneath his
leopard-skin cloak, though even _he_ still ground his teeth. I could
bear it no longer.

"Are we to stand here till we put out roots, Umbopa--Ignosi, I
mean--while Twala swallows our brothers yonder?" I asked.

"Nay, Macumazahn," was the answer; "see, now is the ripe moment: let us
pluck it."

As he spoke a fresh regiment rushed past the ring upon the little
mound, and wheeling round, attacked it from the hither side.

Then, lifting his battle-axe, Ignosi gave the signal to advance, and,
screaming the wild Kukuana war-cry, the Buffaloes charged home with a
rush like the rush of the sea.

What followed immediately on this it is out of my power to tell. All I
can remember is an irregular yet ordered advance, that seemed to shake
the ground; a sudden change of front and forming up on the part of the
regiment against which the charge was directed; then an awful shock, a
dull roar of voices, and a continuous flashing of spears, seen through
a red mist of blood.

When my mind cleared I found myself standing inside the remnant of the
Greys near the top of the mound, and just behind no less a person than
Sir Henry himself. How I got there I had at the moment no idea, but Sir
Henry afterwards told me that I was borne up by the first furious
charge of the Buffaloes almost to his feet, and then left, as they in
turn were pressed back. Thereon he dashed out of the circle and dragged
me into shelter.

As for the fight that followed, who can describe it? Again and again
the multitudes surged against our momentarily lessening circle, and
again and again we beat them back.

 "The stubborn spearmen still made good
  The dark impenetrable wood,
  Each stepping where his comrade stood
    The instant that he fell,"

as someone or other beautifully says.

It was a splendid thing to see those brave battalions come on time
after time over the barriers of their dead, sometimes lifting corpses
before them to receive our spear-thrusts, only to leave their own
corpses to swell the rising piles. It was a gallant sight to see that
old warrior, Infadoos, as cool as though he were on parade, shouting
out orders, taunts, and even jests, to keep up the spirit of his few
remaining men, and then, as each charge rolled on, stepping forward to
wherever the fighting was thickest, to bear his share in its repulse.
And yet more gallant was the vision of Sir Henry, whose ostrich plumes
had been shorn off by a spear thrust, so that his long yellow hair
streamed out in the breeze behind him. There he stood, the great Dane,
for he was nothing else, his hands, his axe, and his armour all red
with blood, and none could live before his stroke. Time after time I
saw it sweeping down, as some great warrior ventured to give him
battle, and as he struck he shouted "_O-hoy! O-hoy!_" like his
Berserkir forefathers, and the blow went crashing through shield and
spear, through head-dress, hair, and skull, till at last none would of
their own will come near the great white "_umtagati_," the wizard, who
killed and failed not.

But suddenly there rose a cry of "_Twala, y' Twala_," and out of the
press sprang forward none other than the gigantic one-eyed king
himself, also armed with battle-axe and shield, and clad in chain
armour.

"Where art thou, Incubu, thou white man, who slewest Scragga my
son--see if thou canst slay me!" he shouted, and at the same time
hurled a _tolla_ straight at Sir Henry, who fortunately saw it coming,
and caught it on his shield, which it transfixed, remaining wedged in
the iron plate behind the hide.

Then, with a cry, Twala sprang forward straight at him, and with his
battle-axe struck him such a blow upon the shield that the mere force
and shock of it brought Sir Henry, strong man as he is, down upon his
knees.

But at this time the matter went no further, for that instant there
rose from the regiments pressing round us something like a shout of
dismay, and on looking up I saw the cause.

To the right and to the left the plain was alive with the plumes of
charging warriors. The outflanking squadrons had come to our relief.
The time could not have been better chosen. All Twala's army, as Ignosi
predicted would be the case, had fixed their attention on the bloody
struggle which was raging round the remnant of the Greys and that of
the Buffaloes, who were now carrying on a battle of their own at a
little distance, which two regiments had formed the chest of our army.
It was not until our horns were about to close upon them that they had
dreamed of their approach, for they believed these forces to be hidden
in reserve upon the crest of the moon-shaped hill. And now, before they
could even assume a proper formation for defence, the outflanking
_Impis_ had leapt, like greyhounds, on their flanks.

In five minutes the fate of the battle was decided. Taken on both
flanks, and dismayed at the awful slaughter inflicted upon them by the
Greys and Buffaloes, Twala's regiments broke into flight, and soon the
whole plain between us and Loo was scattered with groups of running
soldiers making good their retreat. As for the hosts that had so
recently surrounded us and the Buffaloes, they melted away as though by
magic, and presently we were left standing there like a rock from which
the sea has retreated. But what a sight it was! Around us the dead and
dying lay in heaped-up masses, and of the gallant Greys there remained
but ninety-five men upon their feet. More than three thousand four
hundred had fallen in this one regiment, most of them never to rise
again.

"Men," said Infadoos calmly, as between the intervals of binding a
wound on his arm he surveyed what remained to him of his corps, "ye
have kept up the reputation of your regiment, and this day's fighting
will be well spoken of by your children's children." Then he turned
round and shook Sir Henry Curtis by the hand. "Thou art a great
captain, Incubu," he said simply; "I have lived a long life among
warriors, and have known many a brave one, yet have I never seen a man
like unto thee."

At this moment the Buffaloes began to march past our position on the
road to Loo, and as they went a message was brought to us from Ignosi
requesting Infadoos, Sir Henry, and myself to join them. Accordingly,
orders having been issued to the remaining ninety men of the Greys to
employ themselves in collecting the wounded, we joined Ignosi, who
informed us that he was pressing on to Loo to complete the victory by
capturing Twala, if that should be possible. Before we had gone far,
suddenly we discovered the figure of Good sitting on an ant-heap about
one hundred paces from us. Close beside him was the body of a Kukuana.

"He must be wounded," said Sir Henry anxiously. As he made the remark,
an untoward thing happened. The dead body of the Kukuana soldier, or
rather what had appeared to be his dead body, suddenly sprang up,
knocked Good head over heels off the ant-heap, and began to spear him.
We rushed forward in terror, and as we drew near we saw the brawny
warrior making dig after dig at the prostrate Good, who at each prod
jerked all his limbs into the air. Seeing us coming, the Kukuana gave
one final and most vicious dig, and with a shout of "Take that,
wizard!" bolted away. Good did not move, and we concluded that our poor
comrade was done for. Sadly we came towards him, and were astonished to
find him pale and faint indeed, but with a serene smile upon his face,
and his eyeglass still fixed in his eye.

"Capital armour this," he murmured, on catching sight of our faces
bending over him. "How sold that beggar must have been," and then he
fainted. On examination we discovered that he had been seriously
wounded in the leg by a _tolla_ in the course of the pursuit, but that
the chain armour had prevented his last assailant's spear from doing
anything more than bruise him badly. It was a merciful escape. As
nothing could be done for him at the moment, he was placed on one of
the wicker shields used for the wounded, and carried along with us.

On arriving before the nearest gate of Loo we found one of our
regiments watching it in obedience to orders received from Ignosi. The
other regiments were in the same way guarding the different exits to
the town. The officer in command of this regiment saluted Ignosi as
king, and informed him that Twala's army had taken refuge in the town,
whither Twala himself had also escaped, but he thought that they were
thoroughly demoralised, and would surrender. Thereupon Ignosi, after
taking counsel with us, sent forward heralds to each gate ordering the
defenders to open, and promising on his royal word life and forgiveness
to every soldier who laid down his arms, but saying that if they did
not do so before nightfall he would certainly burn the town and all
within its gates. This message was not without its effect. Half an hour
later, amid the shouts and cheers of the Buffaloes, the bridge was
dropped across the fosse, and the gates upon the further side were
flung open.

Taking due precautions against treachery, we marched on into the town.
All along the roadways stood thousands of dejected warriors, their
heads drooping, and their shields and spears at their feet, who, headed
by their officers, saluted Ignosi as king as he passed. On we marched,
straight to Twala's kraal. When we reached the great space, where a day
or two previously we had seen the review and the witch hunt, we found
it deserted. No, not quite deserted, for there, on the further side, in
front of his hut, sat Twala himself, with but one attendant--Gagool.

It was a melancholy sight to see him seated, his battle-axe and shield
by his side, his chin upon his mailed breast, with but one old crone
for companion, and notwithstanding his crimes and misdeeds, a pang of
compassion shot through me as I looked upon Twala thus "fallen from his
high estate." Not a soldier of all his armies, not a courtier out of
the hundreds who had cringed round him, not even a solitary wife,
remained to share his fate or halve the bitterness of his fall. Poor
savage! he was learning the lesson which Fate teaches to most of us who
live long enough, that the eyes of mankind are blind to the
discredited, and that he who is defenceless and fallen finds few
friends and little mercy. Nor, indeed, in this case did he deserve any.

Filing through the kraal gate, we marched across the open space to
where the ex-king sat. When within about fifty yards of him the
regiment was halted, and accompanied only by a small guard we advanced
towards him, Gagool reviling us bitterly as we came. As we drew near,
Twala, for the first time, lifted his plumed head, and fixed his one
eye, which seemed to flash with suppressed fury almost as brightly as
the great diamond bound round his forehead, upon his successful
rival--Ignosi.

"Hail, O king!" he said, with bitter mockery; "thou who hast eaten of
my bread, and now by the aid of the white man's magic hast seduced my
regiments and defeated mine army, hail! What fate hast thou in store
for me, O king?"

"The fate thou gavest to my father, whose throne thou hast sat on these
many years!" was the stern answer.

"It is good. I will show thee how to die, that thou mayest remember it
against thine own time. See, the sun sinks in blood," and he pointed
with his battle-axe towards the setting orb; "it is well that my sun
should go down in its company. And now, O king! I am ready to die, but
I crave the boon of the Kukuana royal House[1] to die fighting. Thou
canst not refuse it, or even those cowards who fled to-day will hold thee
shamed."

"It is granted. Choose--with whom wilt thou fight? Myself I cannot
fight with thee, for the king fights not except in war."

Twala's sombre eye ran up and down our ranks, and I felt, as for a
moment it rested on myself, that the position had developed a new
horror. What if he chose to begin by fighting _me_? What chance should
I have against a desperate savage six feet five high, and broad in
proportion? I might as well commit suicide at once. Hastily I made up
my mind to decline the combat, even if I were hooted out of Kukuanaland
as a consequence. It is, I think, better to be hooted than to be
quartered with a battle-axe.

Presently Twala spoke.

"Incubu, what sayest thou, shall we end what we began to-day, or shall
I call thee coward, white--even to the liver?"

"Nay," interposed Ignosi hastily; "thou shalt not fight with Incubu."

"Not if he is afraid," said Twala.

Unfortunately Sir Henry understood this remark, and the blood flamed up
into his cheeks.

"I will fight him," he said; "he shall see if I am afraid."

"For Heaven's sake," I entreated, "don't risk your life against that of
a desperate man. Anybody who saw you to-day will know that you are
brave enough."

"I will fight him," was the sullen answer. "No living man shall call me
a coward. I am ready now!" and he stepped forward and lifted his axe.

I wrung my hands over this absurd piece of Quixotism; but if he was
determined on this deed, of course I could not stop him.

"Fight not, my white brother," said Ignosi, laying his hand
affectionately on Sir Henry's arm; "thou hast fought enough, and if
aught befell thee at his hands it would cut my heart in twain."

"I will fight, Ignosi," was Sir Henry's answer.

"It is well, Incubu; thou art a brave man. It will be a good fray.
Behold, Twala, the Elephant is ready for thee."

The ex-king laughed savagely, and stepping forward faced Curtis. For a
moment they stood thus, and the light of the sinking sun caught their
stalwart frames and clothed them both in fire. They were a well-matched
pair.

Then they began to circle round each other, their battle-axes raised.

Suddenly Sir Henry sprang forward and struck a fearful blow at Twala,
who stepped to one side. So heavy was the stroke that the striker half
overbalanced himself, a circumstance of which his antagonist took a
prompt advantage. Circling his massive battle-axe round his head, he
brought it down with tremendous force. My heart jumped into my mouth; I
thought that the affair was already finished. But no; with a quick
upward movement of the left arm Sir Henry interposed his shield between
himself and the axe, with the result that its outer edge was shorn
away, the axe falling on his left shoulder, but not heavily enough to
do any serious damage. In another moment Sir Henry got in a second
blow, which was also received by Twala upon his shield.

Then followed blow upon blow, that were, in turn, either received upon
the shields or avoided. The excitement grew intense; the regiment which
was watching the encounter forgot its discipline, and, drawing near,
shouted and groaned at every stroke. Just at this time, too, Good, who
had been laid upon the ground by me, recovered from his faint, and,
sitting up, perceived what was going on. In an instant he was up, and
catching hold of my arm, hopped about from place to place on one leg,
dragging me after him, and yelling encouragements to Sir Henry--

"Go it, old fellow!" he hallooed. "That was a good one! Give it him
amidships," and so on.

Presently Sir Henry, having caught a fresh stroke upon his shield, hit
out with all his force. The blow cut through Twala's shield and through
the tough chain armour behind it, gashing him in the shoulder. With a
yell of pain and fury Twala returned the blow with interest, and, such
was his strength, shore right through the rhinoceros' horn handle of
his antagonists battle-axe, strengthened as it was with bands of steel,
wounding Curtis in the face.

A cry of dismay rose from the Buffaloes as our hero's broad axe-head
fell to the ground; and Twala, again raising his weapon, flew at him
with a shout. I shut my eyes. When I opened them again it was to see
Sir Henry's shield lying on the ground, and Sir Henry himself with his
great arms twined round Twala's middle. To and fro they swung, hugging
each other like bears, straining with all their mighty muscles for dear
life, and dearer honour. With a supreme effort Twala swung the
Englishman clean off his feet, and down they came together, rolling
over and over on the lime paving, Twala striking out at Curtis' head
with the battle-axe, and Sir Henry trying to drive the _tolla_ he had
drawn from his belt through Twala's armour.

It was a mighty struggle, and an awful thing to see.

"Get his axe!" yelled Good; and perhaps our champion heard him.

At any rate, dropping the _tolla_, he snatched at the axe, which was
fastened to Twala's wrist by a strip of buffalo hide, and still rolling
over and over, they fought for it like wild cats, drawing their breath
in heavy gasps. Suddenly the hide string burst, and then, with a great
effort, Sir Henry freed himself, the weapon remaining in his hand.
Another second and he was upon his feet, the red blood streaming from
the wound in his face, and so was Twala. Drawing the heavy _tolla_ from
his belt, he reeled straight at Curtis and struck him in the breast.
The stab came home true and strong, but whoever it was who made that
chain armour, he understood his art, for it withstood the steel. Again
Twala struck out with a savage yell, and again the sharp knife
rebounded, and Sir Henry went staggering back. Once more Twala came on,
and as he came our great Englishman gathered himself together, and
swinging the big axe round his head with both hands, hit at him with
all his force.

There was a shriek of excitement from a thousand throats, and, behold!
Twala's head seemed to spring from his shoulders: then it fell and came
rolling and bounding along the ground towards Ignosi, stopping just at
his feet. For a second the corpse stood upright; then with a dull crash
it came to the earth, and the gold torque from its neck rolled away
across the pavement. As it did so Sir Henry, overpowered by faintness
and loss of blood, fell heavily across the body of the dead king.

In a second he was lifted up, and eager hands were pouring water on his
face. Another minute, and the grey eyes opened wide.

He was not dead.

Then I, just as the sun sank, stepping to where Twala's head lay in the
dust, unloosed the diamond from the dead brows, and handed it to Ignosi.

"Take it," I said, "lawful king of the Kukuanas--king by birth and
victory."

Ignosi bound the diadem upon his brows. Then advancing, he placed his
foot upon the broad chest of his headless foe and broke out into a
chant, or rather a paean of triumph, so beautiful, and yet so utterly
savage, that I despair of being able to give an adequate version of his
words. Once I heard a scholar with a fine voice read aloud from the
Greek poet Homer, and I remember that the sound of the rolling lines
seemed to make my blood stand still. Ignosi's chant, uttered as it was
in a language as beautiful and sonorous as the old Greek, produced
exactly the same effect on me, although I was exhausted with toil and
many emotions.

"Now," he began, "now our rebellion is swallowed up in victory, and our
evil-doing is justified by strength.

"In the morning the oppressors arose and stretched themselves; they
bound on their harness and made them ready to war.

"They rose up and tossed their spears: the soldiers called to the
captains, 'Come, lead us'--and the captains cried to the king, 'Direct
thou the battle.'

"They laughed in their pride, twenty thousand men, and yet a twenty
thousand.

"Their plumes covered the valleys as the plumes of a bird cover her
nest; they shook their shields and shouted, yea, they shook their
shields in the sunlight; they lusted for battle and were glad.

"They came up against me; their strong ones ran swiftly to slay me;
they cried, 'Ha! ha! he is as one already dead.'



"Then breathed I on them, and my breath was as the breath of a wind,
and lo! they were not.

"My lightnings pierced them; I licked up their strength with the
lightning of my spears; I shook them to the ground with the thunder of
my shoutings.

"They broke--they scattered--they were gone as the mists of the morning.

"They are food for the kites and the foxes, and the place of battle is
fat with their blood.


"Where are the mighty ones who rose up in the morning?

"Where are the proud ones who tossed their spears and cried, 'He is as
a man already dead'?

"They bow their heads, but not in sleep; they are stretched out, but
not in sleep.

"They are forgotten; they have gone into the blackness; they dwell in
the dead moons; yea, others shall lead away their wives, and their
children shall remember them no more.


"And I--! the king--like an eagle I have found my eyrie.

"Behold! far have I flown in the night season, yet have I returned to
my young at the daybreak.

"Shelter ye under the shadow of my wings, O people, and I will comfort
you, and ye shall not be dismayed.

"Now is the good time, the time of spoil.

"Mine are the cattle on the mountains, mine are the virgins in the
kraals.

"The winter is overpast with storms, the summer is come with flowers.

"Now Evil shall cover up her face, now Mercy and Gladness shall dwell
in the land.

"Rejoice, rejoice, my people!

"Let all the stars rejoice in that this tyranny is trodden down, in
that I am the king."


Ignosi ceased his song, and out of the gathering gloom came back the
deep reply--

"_Thou art the king!_"


Thus was my prophecy to the herald fulfilled, and within the
forty-eight hours Twala's headless corpse was stiffening at Twala's
gate.


[1] It is a law amongst the Kukuanas that no man of the direct royal
blood can be put to death, unless by his own consent, which is,
however, never refused. He is allowed to choose a succession of
antagonists, to be approved by the king, with whom he fights, till one
of them kills him.--A.Q.



Chapters 13 and 14
As the threefold forces of Twala approach their location, Good expresses a wish for a Gatling gun to mow them down. He then taunts Quatermain into taking a long shot at the apparent general of the middle forces, wagering a sovereign against Quatermain's success. Irked at this challenge to his marksmanship, Quatermain takes aim with his Winchester and fires on the Kukuana leader. He misses, but strikes the leader's orderly dead, frightening his target. Good delivers a backhanded compliment to Quatermain for frightening the general, so Quatermain takes up his rifle again and shoots the general. He realizes after the fact how strong his pride was in his marksmanship, since he took delight in the death of another human being upon his success. With two of their number being mysteriously struck down by the white magic, the middle forces pull back in disarray. Good and Sir Henry fire into the regiment as well, and all told the men take down from eight to ten of their enemies before they get out of range. Delighted to have routed Twala's men, they are surprised when they hear sounds of the left and right flanks attacking. Twala's men shout Twala! Twala! Chiele! Cheile! while Ignosi's army answers with Ignosi! Ignosi! Chiele! Chiele! Before long the first and second lines of defense are broken, leaving Ignosi's third line in the fray. Sir Henry, Good, Quatermain, and Ignosi himself join in direct combat. The fighting is furious, with Sir Henry especially making a name for himself on the battlefield with his battle-axe. Ignosi's right line of defense manage to drive Twala's attack back, but Twala's left flank brekas through and drives Ignosi's forces toward the center. Eventually Quatermain comes face-to-face with an enemy Kukuana, whom he dispatches, but then he is struck from behind and rendered unconscious. A short time later, Quatermain awakens to find Good kneeling over him. He has only been dazed by the attack. Good informs him that Twala's forces have been repulsed for the time being. Ignosi's men begin to take stock of their dead and wounded, with their witch -doctors doing triage to determine which men's wounds are fatal. Quatermain observes the witch doctor's surreptitiously euthanizing the mortally wounded men so that their deaths are painless; Quatermain admits that this that, although he finds this distasteful, it is probably the most humane thing that can be done at the time. Sir Henry, Ignosi, and Infadoos confer on their next strategy. Twala has decided to lay siege to Ignosi's camp to starve them out; this situation is made worse by the fact that their water has already run out. Infadoos asks Quatermain to give his counsel. Infadoos outlines three options: remain on the hill and starve to death, attempt to break through to the north, or attack Twala's forces head-on. Sir Henry has already counseled a direct attack. Quatermain mulls it over, and then concludes that the direct assault is the best option. Though he thinks it a doomed effort, he believes an immediate charge on Twala's forces will help them take advantage of Twala's wounded forces, and will provide less time for the forces of Ignosi to become disheartened and change sides. Ignosi considers his counselors' words, and then declares his intention to attack Twala that same day. He proposes a strategy whereby Infadoos and Sir Henry take a body of men directly toward Twala's forces, down the hill between two arms of the crescent-shaped formation. Twala's forces will become occupied with this attack, but will also be more vulnerable as they can only approach the enemy in small numbers. While this fighting ensues, Captain Good will take a third of the men behind the right horn of the crescent, while Ignosi and Quatermain will take the remaining third behind the left horn. At the optimal moment, both sides will strike and Ignosi will head directly for Twala, to kill him and end this civil war immediately. Although the plan means likely death for Ignosi, Sir Henry, and their men, they face it with stoicism and bravery. Sir Henry declares that although he does not expect to survive, at least It will be "a man's death!" Quatermain, ever the pessimist, has misgivings but does not voice them in the interest of maintaining morale. The army of Ignosi separates into the assigned regiments, one on each flank of the curved bluff, and two--the eminent Greys and their backup, the Buffaloes, heading down the center. Infadoos commands the Greys; as they wait for the moment of battle, he keeps their morale up by emphasizing the honor of their service to Ignosi and the importance of their probably mortal office. Quatermain, taking his place with Ignosi among the Buffaloes, cannot help but contrast their stalwart bravery with his own mounting anxiety. Infadoos ends his exhortation by indicating Ignosi as their rightful ruler; he is met with the honor-bearing beating of the soldiers' spears upon their shields. Following this grand homage, the Greys make three lines and march toward the center of the crescent to draw Twala's forces in for the finishing assault. As the Buffaloes follow the Greys, Quatermain ponders the Greys' suicidal loyalty. He attempts to assuage his fears by reminding himself of an account wherein three Romans held a bridge against thousands, but it is little use--he knows the Greys, and probably most of the Buffaloes as well, are destined to die this day. The Greys await the approach of Twala's forces at the opening in the crescent bluff. When Twala's army gets within charging distance, the Greys rush into them and attack. They repulse Twala's army at first, but it costs them a third of their forces. As they await Twala's second wave, Quatermain is relieved to see the blonde head of Sir Henry among the Greys, still alive despite the bloodshed. Meanwhile, Ignosi gives the order that none of Twala's wounded are to be killed, an act of kindness that mostly goes unseen in the throes of battle. Twala's forces again advance, and the Greys still hold the line. This time, however, the battle lasts longer with the outcome in doubt. The Greys manage to yet again drive back Twala's forces, but are left with less than a third of their original number alive. Twala's forces regroup and advance, but at this moment Ignosi gives his battle cry and heads into the fray, making straight for Twala. Twala, meanwhile, has sought out Sir Henry, to kill him as the white man killed his own son. Twala drives Sir Henry to his knees with a crushing blow, but suddenly the fresh regiments from either side of the crescent arrive to entrap Twala's forces The battle is bloody and fierce, but the forces of Ignosi are victorious. However, Ignosi is unable to face Twala in direct combat before the enemy leader escapes back to his city. En route to Loo, Quatermain and the others espy Captain Good sitting atop an ant-heap near the body of one of Twala's Kukuana soldiers. Before anyone can cry out, the seemingly dead Kukuana arises and strikes Good, knocking him to the ground. The enemy warrior then strikes repeatedly at Good with his spear, apparently killing the white man, before running off to join his own army. When Quatermain and the others reach Good, he is working his way back to his feet, eyeglass still in place. He credits the chain mail armor he is wearing with saving his life from the Kukuana's vicious spear-thrusts. When his forces reach Loo, Ignosi promises the inhabitants full pardon to any warrior who lays down his arms. The city surrenders to Ignosi and the gates are opened. Ignosi and his retinue head to the central enclosure, where Twala sits brooding, alone save for Gagool. Twala acknowledges Ignosi's victory and recognizes Ignosi's right to kill him as Twala killed Ignosi's father, but he asks a royal boon--his death shall be trial by combat. Ignosi hesitantly agrees, but reminds Twala that the king is forbidden to enter into single combat by law. Twala has his eyes on another target--he wishes to battle Sir Henry to the death. Although Quatermain and others attempt to dissuade him, Sir Henry readily agrees to battle Twala. The two men fight viciously, with no one gaining the upper hand, but then Twala is able to knock Sir Henry's battle-axe from his hands. Sir Henry draws his tolla to attempt a stab at Twala, but is unable to penetrate the Kukuana's armor. Twala and Sir Henry struggle over Twala's axe, with Sir Henry managing at the last instant to pull it from Twala's grasp. Even as Twala draws his own tolla and stabs at Sir Henry , Sir Henry swings the axe and decapitates Twala on the spot. Quatermain removes the diamond crown from Twala's head and gives it to Ignosi, proclaiming him "lawful King of the Kukuanas." There is a victory celebration and songs of epic proportions as the night falls.
Quatermain reveals more of his character in the incident of the long-range shooting.  His rivalry with Captain Good has remained below the surface since the "lucky" shot at the giraffe, but Quatermain has made it clear to the reader that he sees Good as his inferior in matters of firearms.  This internal rivalry drives Quatermain to thoughtlessly take the life of another human being in order to prove his superiority--an act which Quatermain immediately regrets:  "This time I had made no mistake; and--I say it as proof of how little we think of others when our own pride or reputation are in question--I was brute enough to feel delighted at the sight" .  This moment of human sympathies rounds out Quatermain's character, giving us a glimpse of a very real man who lives a life of bloodshed, but not by choice or out of sadistic pleasure.  To get this moment of insight into Quatermain just prior to the bloodiest incident in the novel serves to make the battle not merely an exercise in heroism, but a sorrowful necessity when evil men oppose those who are in the right. The Greys are introduced more fully here.  They are the eldest and most able of the Kukuana warriors.  That they have sided with Ignosi is a sign to other Kukuanas that Ignosi is the rightful king; their presence in Ignosi's army will also serve to put fear into the hearts of those loyal to Twala.  They are brave men, but also doomed ; their position in the battle is to hold a small pass against innumerable enemies for as long as possible--meaning until they are all dead. Quatermain also demonstrates his ability to think strategically, despite his fatalism.  When asked his thoughts on their attack strategy, given their dire circumstances, he tells Ignosi:  "Being trapped, our best chance, especially in view of the failure of our water supply, was to initiate an attack upon Twala's forces, and then I recommended that the attack should be delivered at once" .  Ignosi considers and heeds his words, and Quatermain notes that "among the Kukuanas my utterances met with a respect which has never been accorded to them before or since" .  Clearly, despite his self-deprecation as a coward and his pessimism, Quatermain has a brave heart ready to follow the dictates of wise combat over self-preservation.  Meanwhile, Ignosi proves to be a brilliant strategist; he seeks counsel from those with differing experiences from himself, then settled on a plan which has the greatest chance of success.  A born leader, he does not hesitate to place his men or himself in great peril for the greater good.  His insistence that Quatermain accompany his part in the maneuvers is interesting; Haggard does not make it clear whether Ignosi includes Quatermain there because he does not fully trust the man, because he wants Quatermain to see Ignosi's military prowess, or because Quatermain really can best serve here, if only in his capacity as a natural survivor. The reader is again treated to echoes of The Iliad as Infadoos encourages the soldiers through oratory just prior to their battle.  The virtues of giving one's life for a worthy cause are extolled, while the likelihood of death in battle is not ignored.  An African  bent is given to Infadoos' exortation, as the history of service to the rightful king is recounted to give the Kukuanas a sense of their place in history. The single combat between Twala and Sir Henry again parallels The Iliad's confrontation between Hector and Achilles.  Although he has threatened Twala directly in battle, Ignosi is not free to enter into single combat with Twala once the fighting ends.  The conflict has become ceremonial, a last choice on the part of the clearly defeated Twala, but is nonetheless significant as it is Twala's search for vengeance against the murderer of his son.  That the others seek to dissuade Sir Henry from entering combat with Twala shows how fearful an opponent the deposed Kukuana king is; that Sir Henry enters into the battle anyway shows both his courage and his pride. Quatermain is shown to be human, still, in his confession at his own anxiety in contrast to the others' courage.  He is not a soldier or warrior--he is a hunter, trader, and sometime adventurer who did not sign up to fight in a foreign king's war.  Nonetheless, Quatermain supports Ignosi despite his fears, and will show that support through service unto death if necessary.  For all his protestations of cowardice, Quatermain is indeed a brave man, and Quatermain's self-assessment of cowardice may in fact be Haggard's clever way of pointing out the follies of bloodshed and violent ideals of "manliness."  Quatermain has already stated how he regrets having killed a man merely to defend his pride; now Sir Henry engages in a fight he is not guaranteed to win in order to do the same.  Through Quatermain, Haggard seems to be suggesting that the motives of even good men may not always be as selfless and honorable as we would like.  While Sir Henry is clearly the heroic champion in this incident, the fact remains that it is wounded pride that goads him into accepting Twala's challenge. Much is made of the chainmail armor worn by the white men.  Twala's gift to them upon their arrival has proven his undoing.  Good is saved from a mortal wound by the chainmail, and Sir Henry's armor deflects Twala's last desperate strike.  The irony is clear:  Twala's gifts come from a civilization older than and superior to the Kukuanas; it is these gifts which aid the next civilization  in destroying Twala's version of Kukuanaland.  The dominance of the white culture is symbolized in Quatermain's act of taking the crown from Twala and placing it upon Ignosi's brow--Ignosi is the rightful king, but in part this is because he is recognized as such by a European power.