' They came at a run side by side seeming to wade through the thick swamp of mortar smoke & dust & they appeared monstrous & inhuman in the stark light of the star shells. One of them was a huge Matabele. He had lost his helmet & his head was round & black as a cannon ball his open mouth was a pink cave lined with ivory teeth & his bull bellow rose above even that storm of gunfire. The other was a white man the top of his battledress torn half off his body exposing the pale flesh of his chest & shoulders but his face was daubed with fiendish streaks of dark green & brown paint.' At the dawn of a new century the pioneers of Rhodesia have staked their claims & stocked their farms in the land they have carved as their own. But in the hills the Matabele indunas are preparing for the bloody rebellion which will scar the opponents for ever
- & etch for them the same tragic legacy for generations to come...