If so, they gave up the idea and began
to run away as their companions had done. One of them, however, a
bolder fellow than the rest, turned and fired at me. He missed by some
yards, as I could tell from the sing of the bullet, for these Arabs
are execrable shots. Still his attempt at murder irritated me so much
that I determined he should not go scot-free. I was carrying the
little rifle called "Intombi," that with which, as Hans had reminded
me, I shot the vultures at Dingaan's kraal many years before. Of
course, I could have killed the man, but this I did not wish to do. Or
I could have shot him through the leg, but then we should have had to
nurse him or leave him to die! So I selected his right arm, which was
outstretched as he fled, and at about fifty paces put a bullet through
it just above the elbow.
"There," I said to the Zulus as I saw it double up, "that low fellow
will never shoot at anyone again."
"Pretty, Macumazana, very pretty!" said Mavovo, "but as you can aim so
well, why not have chosen his head? That bullet is half-wasted.
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