Unwillingly he had bowed to the inevitable, he the despot, he, before whose frown those ferocious and bloodthirsty human beasts trembled, he the dark-skinned savage, whose word was law, whose ire conveyed terror over a region as wide-spreading and vast as that under the sway of any one of the greater Powers in Europe. But as long as the nation was a nation and he was alive, he intended to remain its King, however reluctant he had been to assume the supreme reins of government, and consistently with this it had been out of his power to check the aggressive ebullitions of his fiery adherents. And now war was within the land, and hourly, runners were bringing in tidings of the advance-- straight, fell, unswerving of purpose--of a strong and compact expedition of whites--their goal his capital. Yes, day by day these were drawing nearer. The intelligence brought by innumerable spies and runners was unvarying. The approaching force in numbers was such that a couple of his best regiments should be able to eat it up at a mouthful. But it was splendidly armed, and its organisation and discipline were perfect. Its leaders seemed to take no risks, and at the smallest alarm all those waggons could be turned into a complete and defensive fort almost as quickly as a man might clap his hands twice. And then, from each corner, from every face of this unscaleable wall, peeped forth a small, insignificant thing, a little shining tube that could be placed on the back of a horse--yet this contemptible-looking toy could rain down bullets into the ranks of his warriors at a rate which would leave none to return to him with the tale. Nay more, even the cover of rocks and bushes would not help them, for other deadly machines had these whites, which could throw great bags of bullets into the air to fall and scatter wherever they chose, and that at well-nigh any distance. All of this Lo Bengula knew and appreciated, but his people did not, and now from without, ever and increasing upon his ears, fell the din and thunder of their boasting songs of war. "_Au_! They are poor, lean dogs!" he growled to himself. "They will be even as dogs who snarl and run away, when they get up to these whites. They bark loudly now and show their teeth. Will they be able to bite?"