Summary

E. W. Phillips Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or…

You, Metilulu the great!—you, the recognised mighty Chief of the numerous tribes dwelling in this vast and beautiful land of Caffraria—has not your victory been complete? Has not but a few hours back triumph been given you over those who but lately would have made you captive? Why, then, should one so favoured stain the day of rejoicing by condemning to a horrible death, for a slight offence, one of those warriors to whose bravery, to whose devotion, he partly owes that triumph? Truly you are strong, you are courageous, but one arm alone could not have crushed the tribe of Kabela.
Source: Gutenberg

E. W. Phillips Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or…

With as much speed as we could muster we instantly followed the swift Kaffir, and with hands and legs torn by the strong thorns of the cacti bushes succeeded in reaching the summit of the rock where, throwing ourselves down, breathless with our haste, we contemplated the spreading conflagration.
If it was grand before, it was terribly so now, for it covered the whole plain and was rushing up the hillside, the flames curling into the air like things of life, leaping from bush to bush, springing up in spiral columns to the skies, and destroying all signs of vegetation in its path.
Source: Gutenberg

E. W. Phillips Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or…

I soon, however, felt convinced that Tugela would not come that night, for everything was growing quiet in the kraal, betokening rest. The smokers had crawled into their dwellings, the Southern Cross gleamed brightly overhead, and the stillness of nature was only broken by the occasional low of the cattle or the roar of some wild beast in the adjacent bush. So, stretching myself upon my mat, I tried to sleep by banishing my own troubles from my mind, and employing my brain by surmising what fate could have overtaken Jack Thompson and Mr Ferguson, the missionary.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature