"Go back,thou dog,to Twala,who sent thee,and say that we,Ignosi,veritable king of the Kukuanas,Incubu,Bougwan,and Macumazahn,the wise white ones from the stars who make dark the sun,Infadoos,of the royal house,and the chiefs,captains,and people here gathered,make answer and say,`That we will not surrender;that before the sun has twice gone down Twala's corpse shall stiffen at Twala's gate,and Ignosi,whose father Twala slew,shall reign in his stead.'Now go,ere we whip thee away,and beware how ye lift a hand against such as we."The herald laughed loud."Ye frighten not men with such swelling words,"he cried out."Show yourselves as bold tomorrow,O ye who darken the sun.Be bold,fight,and be merry,before the crows pick your bones till they are whiter than your faces.Farewell;perhaps we may meet in the fight;wait for me,I pray,white men."And with this shaft of sarcasm he retired,and almost immediately the sun sank.
That night was a busy one for us,for,as far as was possible by the moonlight,all preparations for the morrow's.fight were continued.
Messengers were constantly coming and going from the place where we sat in council.At last,about an hour after midnight,everything that could be done was done,and the camp,save for the occasional challenge of a sentry,sank into sleep.Sir Henry and I,accompanied by Ignosi and one of the chiefs,descended the hill and made the round of the vedettes.As we went,suddenly,from all sorts of unexpected places,spears gleamed out in the moonlight,only to vanish again as we uttered the password.
It was clear to us that none were sleeping at their posts.Then we returned,picking our way through thousands of sleeping warriors,many of whom were taking their last earthly rest.
The moonlight flickered along their spears,and played upon their features and made them ghastly;the chilly night wind tossed their tall and hearse like plumes.There they lay in wild confusion,with arms outstretched and twisted limbs;their stern,stalwart forms looking weird and unhuman in the moonlight.
"How many of these do you suppose will be alive at this time to-morrow?"asked Sir Henry.
I shook my head and looked again at the sleeping men,and to my tired and yet excited imagination it seemed as though death had already touched them.My mind's eye singled out those who were sealed to slaughter,and there rushed in upon my heart a great sense of the mystery of human life,and an overwhelming sorrow at its futility and sadness.To-night these thousands slept their healthy sleep;to-morrow they,and many others with them,ourselves perhaps among them,would be stiffening in the cold;their wives would be widows,their children fatherless,and their place know them no more forever.Only the old moon would shine serenely on,the night wind would stir the grasses,and the wide earth would take its happy rest,even as it did aeons before these were,and will do aeons after they have been forgotten.
Yet man dies not while the world,at once his mother and his monument,remains.His name is forgotten,indeed,but the breath he breathed yet stirs the pine-tops on the mountains,the sound of the words he spoke yet echoes on through space;the thoughts his brain gave birth to we have inherited to-day;his passions are our cause of life;the joys and sorrows that he felt are our familiar friends -the end from which he fled aghast will surely overtake us also.
Truly the universe is full of ghosts;not sheeted,churchyard spectres,but the inextinguishable and immortal elements of life,which,having once been,can never die ,though they blend and change and change again forever.
All sorts of reflections of this sort passed through my mind -for as I get older I regret to say that a detestable habit of thinking seems to be getting a hold of me --while I stood and stared at those grim yet fantastic lines of warriors sleeping,as their saying goes,"upon their spears.""Curtis,"I said to Sir Henry,!"I am in a condition of pitiable funk."Sir Henry stroked his yellow beard and laughed,as he answered: