Solemn and weighty now did those words seem. Great Heaven! had not just such a time come? Was not everything dark enough in all conscience, and what outlook did life afford? Yes, he would do it. His heart beat fast as he undid the sealed oilskin wrappings of the packet. What would it contain, and how could such contents in any way conduce to his own welfare? The last wrapping was off, revealing an enclosure. Only a sealed letter, directed to the same names and address as that in the packet marked "A"--a firm in Cape Town--of solicitors or agents, he conjectured. One word of instructions accompanied this, one single word-- "Forward." "And that is all?" he said to himself, perhaps a trifle disappointedly, turning the enclosure round and round. "Well, that's no trouble. I'll go and do it." CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. THE FIGHT OUTSIDE. MacFurdon's troop, about two hundred strong, was sweeping up the long slope which ran northward from the township of Bulawayo, and the line it was taking would bring it out a little to the right of Government House and the site of the old kraal. It was bitterly cold, for the dawn had not yet risen. The insurgents had waxed bolder and yet more bold. They were holding the ridge, and were in calm possession of Government House itself, and now the idea was to teach them that the time had come when they could no longer have everything their own way. To this end it had been decided to get well within striking distance of them at break of day. MacFurdon's troop was rather a scratch concern, got together in a hurry, but consisting of good material. With it went many volunteers. It was, however, in this instance, as much a reconnoitring party as one for fighting purposes. On its right flank moved a contingent of the Cape Boy corps, feeling the ground towards the Umguza. This, too, was rather a scratch force, composed of every conceivable kind of South African native, but, like the other, of excellent fighting material. "Say, Ames--what sort of show you think we got?" whispered one of the volunteers aforesaid, as they drew near the crest of the rise. "Now, if they was Indians, I guess we'd boost them out of yon White House of yours in no time, striking them in the dark so." The speaker was an American, by name Shackleton, commonly called "The Major," by virtue of his having claimed to hold that rank in Uncle Sam's regular army. He likewise claimed to have seen service in the Indian wars on the Plains. In more peaceful times he was a prospector by occupation. "Show? Oh, the usual thing," answered John Ames. "We shall get in touch with each other, and there'll be a big swap in bullets, and a general hooroosh. They'll all sneak away in the grass, and we shall get back into camp feeling as if our clothes all wanted letting out. If there are more of them than we can take care of all at once, why, we shan't be feeling so vast." "That so? You ever fight Matabele before?"