To those in search of a rousing novel, packed tight with adventure of a South African flavour, we can at once point out "The Triumph of Hilary Blachland," which in nine particulars out of ten will undoubtedly satisfy such readers as like their fiction to have as many exciting moments as there are quills upon the porcupine.
ob, felt relieved that his lines were henceforth cast in peaceful and pleasant places. But he reckoned without the nation which produced Drake and Hawkins, Raleigh and Clive, and--Cecil Rhodes.
He reckoned, also, without his own fighting men. The bumptiousness of these was inordinate, overwhelming. They were fully convinced they could whip all creation--that agglomeration being represented hither to by the inferior tribes, which they had reduced and decimated ever since the exodus from Zululand. Now these troublesome whites were coming into the country by threes and fours--why not make an end of them before they became too numerous? Umzilikazi would have done this--Umzilikazi, that Elephant who had made the nation what it was. So they murmured against Lo Bengula, in so far as they dared, and that was a good deal, for the voice of a nation can make itself heard, even against a despot, when the potentate thinks fit to run counter to its sense.
Now, three out of the four knew the King intimately; t