Then we rushed down the slope and took up our position in a little
open space in front of the gate, that now was tottering to its fall
beneath the blows and draggings of the Arabs. At this time the sight
was terrible and magnificent, for the flames had got hold of the two
half-circles of huts that embraced the market-place, and, fanned by
the blast, were rushing towards us like a thing alive. Above us swept
a great pall of smoke in which floated flakes of fire, so thick that
it hid the sky, though fortunately the wind did not suffer it to sink
and choke us. The sounds also were almost inconceivable, for to the
crackling roar of the conflagration as it devoured hut after hut, were
added the coarse, yelling voices of the half-bred Arabs, as in mingled
rage and terror they tore at the gateway or each other, and the
reports of the guns which many of them were still firing, half at
hazard.
We formed up before the gate, the Zulus with Stephen and myself in
front and the thirty picked Mazitu, commanded by no less a person than
Bausi, the king, behind.
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