Standing forth, in an attitude of the noble art of self-defence, was Falkner Sewin. His fists were clenched, and his rolled up sleeves showed a really magnificent display of brown and corded muscle. Confronting him was a big Zulu, equally muscular, and armed with a formidable knobkerrie and a small shield. For "gallery" but with their backs to me, squatted in a semi-circle about thirty more Zulus. Annoyed as I was, for the life of me I could not but feel interested. Both the contending parties were watching each other intently and it was clear that so novel a mode of fighting had appealed to this warlike people to the extent of their allowing their adversary fair play instead of rushing him by weight of numbers. I had seen the same kind of thing among them before, notably on that occasion when Tyingoza's son had accepted the invitation to head a sort of flying invasion of the opposite side. But now, as then, they were destined to forget the strict rules of fair play when blood was up. The Zulu was waltzing round Falkner, but the latter beyond turning to face him never moved, and his adversary seemed in no hurry to come within reach of those formidable fists. Then, goaded perhaps by the jeers of his comrades, who were tiring of a fight wherein no blows were struck, he feinted at his adversary's head, then quick as thought threw up his shield and made a terrific sweep at Falkner's leg beneath it. But the latter was up to this stale dodge--indeed, I myself had put him up to it. Springing lightly aside, in time to avoid by a hair's-breadth a blow that would have shattered his kneecap and set him up with a highly respectable limp that would have lasted him for the term of his natural life, he shot out his right fist in such wise as to catch his assailant smack full on the side of the jaw. The big Zulu went down like a shot buck hit in full course. "He's out!" cried Falkner. "John, tell 'em to put up their next man." But before Jan Boom could render this injunction or not render it, the whole lot had sprung to their feet and a mighty hubbub ensued. They had seized their weapons, and were gesticulating and pointing at Falkner: in fact, working themselves up to a state of wild and dangerous excitement. It was as well, perhaps, that unseen by them I was near enough to interpose. "Hold!" I roared. "Hold! What means this? And who are ye that rush into my camp with weapons in your hands?" As I said, I had approached unseen, and now the very suddenness of my appearance availed to stay the tumult, for a moment. But only for a moment. "Who are we? _Au_! _Mlungu_! that is no matter. Your oxen have eaten up our corn and now you must make it good. You must make it good we say."