But, as Peters has said, it was only the first round, for now a swarming crowd of savages, advancing at a lightning run, hurled themselves upon the stockade at the other side, with intent to effect an entrance in overwhelming force before the defenders should have time to create sufficient havoc to turn them. It was a weak point too, for the back wall of a long, low stable constituted a break in the line of mopani poles, and once under cover of this a considerable number of them would be sheltered from the effects of any cross-fire, and could even set alight the thatched roof. And as if to second their efforts an extra dense cloud of mist, borne down by the wind, rolled right up to the stable wall. Here, too, the crackling volleys mowed them down, but doing nothing like the execution that had been at first effected. "Good Lord! here's a go," muttered the police sergeant, who with his men formed a section of the defenders on this side. "There's quite a lot of the cusses under here, and we can't get at 'em. Stop. I'll have a try." He hoisted himself up to the top of the palisade, and, reaching over, pumped his revolver into the concentrated mass. An awful roar of rage and dismay arose from below, raked thus at close quarters; then one agile warrior, taking in the situation, leaped upward, and drove his assegai clean through the throat of the unfortunate policeman, who fell back stone dead, his vertebrae completely severed by the impact of the stroke. But hardly time had those around to take in this than a diversion occurred. Grunberger appeared from within his store bearing a strange unwieldy object, followed by Driffield's Makalaka boy armed with a crowbar. Both entered the stable, and but for the crackle of firing and hissing and yells of the Matabele, a sound might have been heard like that of drilling a hole in a mud wall. A moment later a sound was heard; a roar from within the stable like that of a discharge of cannon, together with the squealing and stamping of mules. A crowd of savages who had been lurking there under secure cover, as they thought, awaiting their chance, rushed helter-skelter forth to regain the main rank--and not all reached it. Soon after, the German reappeared, choking with laughter. "Dot is one goot old shspring-gun," he explained. "I fill him up mit black powder und loopers, den I make one leetle hole, und shtick him through, ja so, mit de muzzle pointing upwards. _Herr Gott_! but de Matabele think dot a cannon haf gone off." "Well done, Grunberger, well done!" cried Lamont. "You're a man of resource. They ought to have made you a colonel in your own army before they'd done with you." "_Ach, so_," said the old soldier, greatly pleased. "Well, I load him up again. Dot place behind the stable they find no longer safe." "What's the row, Driffield? Not hit?" cried Lamont sharply. For a sudden fusillade had opened on that side, and the chips were flying wildly from the mopani poles.