But, simultaneously with the rush made upon Jekyll, and for which the words were the signal, the rifles of the two men at the window crashed forth in one report. The two foremost Matabele dropped dead, while the three men stationed behind the house were in position at once, and simply raked the whole crowd. Again and again the magazine rifles spoke, and between them and Moseley's buckshot the result was that a little more than half the treacherous assailants were running for dear life and for the nearest bush; while Jekyll, who had not stirred throughout, stood re-lighting his pipe as if nothing had happened. "Sharp work, chaps," he said, as they all came out to see the result. "We've taught them how to fight the devil with fire--eh?" The transformation was marvellous in its rapidity. The place which, five minutes before, had been the scene of a peaceful gathering, was now one of slaughter. More than one there present, who had never witnessed death by violence, gazing upon the stark, bleeding corpses, looked uncomfortable. "Here's one who isn't dead," said Jekyll. "Let's see if he'll give away anything." And, bending down, Jekyll began to talk fluently in Sindabele. But the wounded man, a big, evil-looking savage, answered never a word. He had a bullet through him, and a couple of grains of heavy buckshot, and was bleeding profusely. The wonder was he was still alive. To all of Jekyll's questions he answered nothing. "I sy. 'E's a bloomin' impident black beggar, I _don't_ think," said the Cockney, giving the prostrate native a push with his foot that was more than half a kick. "Wish I 'ad my bloomin' pick-'andle 'ere." "Oh, shut up, Higgins, and leave the nigger alone," said the man who had first taken exception to the swaggering cad's bounce. "We don't do things that way here." "'Ere, I sy, I'd like to know what I've done. Cawn't a chep mike a bloomin' blanked nigger awnswer a question when a gentleman arsts 'im one--hy?" But whether this feat was practicable or not was destined to remain unrecorded, for at that moment came the crash of a volley poured from the line of bush wherein the discomfited barbarians had disappeared, and the vicious hum of missiles overhead and around, knocking chips of plaster from the walls of the house. Two men staggered, only wounded though, among them the police trooper, who was shot in the leg. "Get inside, sharp," sang out Jekyll, himself hauling in one of the wounded. "Stand ready. They'll charge directly."