"First of all," I said, "if the dog belongs to Udolfu, why is not Udolfu here himself to claim him? Is he afraid?" "He is not afraid, Umlungu," answered the man, with a wave of the hand. "For--here he is." A man on horseback came riding furiously up. With him were a lot more armed Zulus running hard to keep pace with him. In a twinkling I recognised we were in a hard tight place, for the number around us already I estimated at a couple of hundred. He was armed this time, for he carried a rifle and I could see a business-like six-shooter peeping out of a side pocket. It was our old friend, Dolf Norbury. "Hallo, you two damned slinking dog thieves," he sung out, as the crowd parted to make way for him. "Here we are again you see. Not yet within British jurisdiction, eh?" There was a banging report at my ear, and lo, Dolf Norbury and his horse were mixed up in a kicking struggling heap. "I don't take that sort of talk from any swine, especially outside British jurisdiction," growled Falkner, hurriedly jamming in a cartridge to replace the one he had fired. There was a rush to extricate the fallen man, and ascertain damages. It turned out that he had not been hit but his horse was killed. He himself however seemed half stunned as he staggered to his feet. Then up went his rifle but the bullet sang high over our heads in the unsteadiness of his aim. "Put up your hands!" I sung out, covering him before he could draw his pistol. "Hands up, or you're dead, by God!" He obeyed. Clearly he had been under fire enough. "Go in and take his pistol, Sewin," I said, still covering him steadily. "If he moves he's dead." It was a tense moment enough, as Falkner walked coolly between the rows of armed savages, for to drive half a dozen spears through him, and massacre the lot of us would have been the work of a moment to them, but I realised that boldness was the only line to adopt under the circumstances. Even then I don't know how the matter would have ended, but some sort of diversion seemed to be in the air, for heads were turned, and murmurs went up. Still no weapon was raised against us. "I've drawn his teeth now, at any rate, the sweep!" said Falkner with a grin, as he returned and threw down the discomfited man's weapons. "I say Dolf, old sportsman," he sung out banteringly. "Feel inclined for another spar? Because if so, come on. Or d'you feel too groggy in the nut?" But now I had taken in the cause of the diversion. The opposite ridge-- that between us and the river--was black with Zulus. On they came, in regular rapid march, hundreds and hundreds of them. They carried war shields and the large _umkonto_ or broad stabbing spear, but had no war adornments except the _isityoba_, or leglet of flowing cow-hair.