I nodded, for it was in my mind to do these things. Never could I stand still and see those poor Boers killed, and I knew that Marie would look after herself. Meanwhile, the Zulus were coming towards me, and the soldiers who had charge of them were driving up Marais’s people, making pretence to thrust them through with their assegais, and shouting at them as men do at cattle. Both parties arrived in the depression at about the same time, but remained separated by a little space. In this space lay the corpses of the murdered men and the two dead _aasvogels_, with Hans and myself standing opposite to them. “Well, little Son of George,” puffed Dingaan, “you have lost your bet, for you did but kill two vultures out of five with your magic, which was good as far as it went, but not good enough. Now you must pay, as I would have paid had you won.” Then he stretched out his hand, and issued the dreadful order of “_Bulala amalongu!_” (Kill the white people). “Kill them one by one, that I may see whether they know how to die, all except Macumazahn and the tall girl, whom I keep.” Some of the soldiers made a dash and seized the Vrouw Prinsloo, who was standing in front of the party. “Wait a little, King,” she called out as the assegais were lifted over her. “How do you know that the bet is lost? He whom you call Macumazahn hit that last vulture. It should be searched for before you kill us.” “What does the old woman say?” asked Dingaan, and Halstead translated slowly. “True,” said Dingaan. “Well, now I will send her to search for the vulture in the sky. Come back thence, Fat One, and tell us if you find it.” The soldiers lifted their assegais, waiting the king’s word. I pretended to look at the ground, and cocked my rifle, being determined that if he spoke it, it should be his last. Hans stared upwards—I suppose to avoid the sight of death—then suddenly uttered a wild yell, which caused everyone, even the doomed people, to turn their eyes to him. He was pointing to the heavens, and they looked to see at what he pointed. This was what they saw. Far, far above in that infinite sea of blue there appeared a tiny speck, which his sharp sight had already discerned, a speck that grew larger and larger as it descended with terrific and ever-growing speed. _It was the king vulture falling from the heavens—dead!_ Down it came between the Vrouw Prinsloo and the slayers, smashing the lifted assegai of one of them and hurling him to the earth. Down it came, and lay there a mere mass of pulp and feathers. “O Dingaan,” I said in the midst of the intense silence that followed, “it seems that it is I who have won the bet, not you. I killed this king of birds, but being a king it chose to die high up and alone, that is all.”