His eyes were rolling, his powerful black limbs shone, and he darted here and there, leaping in the air to deliver some thrust with greater effect, and generally carrying on in a way that would have made me burst into a hearty fit of contemptuous laughter at the childish exhibition, evidently meant to impress me with the fellow's great bravery, had there not been, as I well knew, so terribly bloodthirsty an element beneath it all.
"There, Sandho," I said softly as I leaned forward to stroke my horse's soft arching neck, "I think we've had enough of the idiot's nonsense, and we'll go." I was in the act of saying these words, keenly watching all round for danger, as well as beyond the bounding black in the full expectation of catching sight at any moment of the plumed heads of a party of his companions rising above the ridge, when, as if in a final effort or an attempt at a climax to the weirdly absurd performance, the black warrior proceeded to finish off with the slaying of about a dozen invisible enemies around him.

Bang went his stabbing assagai against his shield, and then _stab, stab, stab_, when he turned upon his feet as if upon a pivot, darting his weapon as if he were some fierce creature armed with a terrible sting.

I seemed to see in imagination an enemy go down at every thrust; a strange thrill of horror ran through me, and an awful kind of fascination held me seated there on my horse, as the black warrior stabbed away till his back was completely turned to me and he delivered a tremendous thrust, uttering a horrible yell.

Then I burst out into a hysterical peal of laughter, and nearly fell out of the saddle.
Why?
Because never was anything more absurd.

The warrior's face was averted, and the long elliptically-shaped shield no longer covered the greater part of his person; and though I had failed in recognition before, I knew him now by the tremendously cut-down trousers he wore.
"Go on, Sandho," I said, and my horse walked gently forward, while the actor gave three or four more thrusts to kill the rest of the dozen invisible enemies, bringing himself face to face with me; and after leaping high in the air, uttering a triumphant yell, he grinned at me from ear to ear, as he breathlessly cried: "'At's a way kill um all, Boss Val." For it was Joeboy on the war-path, ready in his own opinion to slay all the Boers in the state..