Meanwhile, the ancient fortress rang with the hideous tumult of the
attack. It was evident that again and again, as their fierce war-shouts
proclaimed, the Matabele were striving to scale the wall, and again and
again were beaten back by the raking rifle fire. Once a triumphant yell
seemed to announce their success. The fire slackened and Benita grew
pale with fear.
"The Makalanga cowards are bolting," muttered Mr. Clifford, listening
with terrible anxiety.
But if so their courage came back to them, for presently the guns
cracked louder and more incessant than before, and the savage cries of
"Kill! Kill! Kill!" dwindled and died away. Another five minutes and the
Matabele were in full retreat, bearing with them many dead and wounded
men upon their backs or stretched out on the ladders.
"Our Makalanga friends should be grateful to us for those hundred
rifles," said Jacob as he loaded and fired rapidly, sending his bullets
wherever the clusters were thickest. "Had it not been for them their
throats would have been cut by now," he added, "for they could never
have stopped those savages with the spear."
"Yes, and ours too before nightfall," said Benita with a shudder,
for the sight of this desperate fray and fear of how it might end had
sickened her.
Pages:
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234