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4. CHAPTER IV: THE ZULU IMPI (continued)
"Now I wonder if the devils have really gone," said Hans Botha to me. "It is very strange."
"I will go and see," said Indaba-zimbi, "if you will come with me, Macumazahn. We can creep to the top of the ridge and look over."
At first I hesitated, but curiosity overcame me. I was young in those days and weary with suspense.
"Very well," I said, "we will go."
So we started. I had my elephant gun and ammunition. Indaba-zimbi had his medicine bag and an assegai. We crept to the top of the rise like sportsmen stalking a buck. The slope on the other side was strewn with rocks, among which grew bushes and tall grass.
"They must have gone down the Donga," I said to Indaba-zimbi, "I can't see one of them."
As I spoke there came a roar of men all round me. From every rock, from every tuft of grass rose a Zulu warrior. Before I could turn, before I could lift a gun, I was seized and thrown.
"Hold him! Hold the White Spirit fast!" cried a voice. "Hold him, or he will slip away like a snake. Don't hurt him, but hold him fast. Let Indaba-zimbi walk by his side."
I turned on Indaba-zimbi. "You black devil, you have betrayed me!" I cried.
"Wait and see, Macumazahn," he answered, coolly. "Now the fight is going to begin."
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