Touch but one hair of our heads, and destruction shall come upon thee.

What, have not these"-- pointing to Infadoos and Scragga, who, young villain that he was, was employed in cleaning the blood of the soldier off his spear--"told thee what manner of men we are?
Hast thou seen the like of us ?" and I pointed to Good, feeling quite sure that he had never seen anybody before who looked in the least like _him_ as he then appeared.
"It is true, I have not," said the king, surveying Good with interest.
"Have they not told thee how we strike with death from afar ?" I went on.
"They have told me, but I believe them not.

Let me see you kill.

Kill me a man among those who stand yonder"-- and he pointed to the opposite side of the kraal--"and I will believe." "Nay," I answered; "we shed no blood of men except in just punishment; but if thou wilt see, bid thy servants drive in an ox through the kraal gates, and before he has run twenty paces I will strike him dead." "Nay," laughed the king, "kill me a man and I will believe." "Good, O king, so be it," I answered coolly; "do thou walk across the open space, and before thy feet reach the gate thou shalt be dead; or if thou wilt not, send thy son Scragga" (whom at that moment it would have given me much pleasure to shoot).
On hearing this suggestion Scragga uttered a sort of howl, and bolted into the hut.
Twala frowned majestically; the suggestion did not please him.
"Let a young ox be driven in," he said.
Two men at once departed, running swiftly.
"Now, Sir Henry," said I, "do you shoot.

I want to show this ruffian that I am not the only magician of the party." Sir Henry accordingly took his "express," and made ready.
"I hope I shall make a good shot," he groaned.
"You must," I answered.