"Lo! the skies are open to my dying sight, and I see the _impis_ of Heaven sweeping to succour you.

_Behold!_" They dashed the sweat from their eyes and looked forth, and as they looked, the pall of gloom was lifted, and in the golden glow of many-shafted light, they saw, not the legions of Heaven indeed, but the regiments of Nodwengo rushing round the bend of the valley, as dogs rush upon a scent, with heads held low and spears outstretched.
Hafela saw them also.
"Back to the koppie," he cried, "there to die like men, for the wizardries of Hokosa have been too strong for us, and lost is this my last battle and the crown I came to seek!" They obeyed, and all that were left of them, some ten thousand men, they ran to the koppie and formed themselves upon it, ring above ring, and here the soldiers of Nodwengo closed in upon them.
Again and for the last time the voice of Hokosa rang out above the fray.
"Nodwengo," he cried, "with my passing breath I charge you have mercy and spare these men, so many of them as will surrender.

The day of bloodshed has gone by, the fray is finished, the Cross has conquered.
Let there be peace in the land." All men heard him, for his piercing scream, echoed from the precipices, came to the ears of each.

All men heard him, and, even in that fierce hour of vengeance, all obeyed.

The spear that was poised was not thrown, and the kerry lifted over the fallen did not descend to dash away his life.
"Hearken, Hafela!" called the king, stepping forward from the ranks of the attackers.