The Hausas fired steadily at the word of command, but seemed to make little impression on the ranks of the Tubus. If a ladder-bearer fell, the man nearest to him snatched up the fallen burden and ran on. They did not even fire as they advanced--partly because the garrison were covered by the walls; chiefly, no doubt, because they hoped to overcome the defence by sheer weight of numbers. Royce felt that the brunt of the attack would fall on that part of the fort against which Goruba was advancing in person. The gigantic negro seemed to bear a charmed life. Although he was bounding up the hill several paces ahead of his followers, and consequently drew the fire of two or three of the Hausas, he was untouched, though some of his men fell at every few yards. With fierce yells the Tubus pressed on. Hitherto Royce had taken no active part in the fight, standing on the bastion and directing the men on each front. But now, thinking that if Goruba fell his followers might lose heart, he drew his revolver and flashed it at the giant. He was a good shot in general, but for some reason or other he missed, and before he could fire again Goruba was beneath the wall, hidden from him. In a moment a score of ladders were placed against the wall on either side of the bastion. Royce had no doubt that an equal number was being employed behind him. The Tubus began to swarm up. Royce saw that his men had done all that was possible with rifle fire; they could now only try to repulse the stormers hand to hand. He ordered his men to club their rifles and strike at every head they saw appear above the walls. For some minutes there was desperate work, the Tubus striving to make a lodgment on the walls, the garrison to hurl them back. At first the struggle was not unequal. The enemy could only mount one by one; while mounting they could not use their weapons, and the defenders had the advantage of them in position. [Illustration: GORUBA HAS A BLOW] Royce waited for Goruba to appear. When he saw the massive head rise above the wall he pulled the trigger of his revolver. There was no response; something had gone wrong. Dropping the weapon, he snatched the rifle from the nearest Hausa and brought the butt down on Goruba's head with all his force. The man fell back among his followers, and Royce hoped that he had seen the last of him. But he had underestimated the thickness of the African skull. For a time he was busy with the Tubus who had mounted on each side of their fallen leader, and had just succeeded in clearing the wall in his neighbourhood when he heard loud shouts from the wall behind. Turning round, he saw that Goruba had mounted there and was laying about him with his clubbed rifle with undiminished vigour. Royce called to Gambaru and another man to follow him, sprang down to the inside of the ditch, and rushed across the fort.