 CHAPTER VII. We reached my wagons by the early morning of the following day, bringing with us the cattle and our wounded. Thus encumbered it was a most toilsome march, and an anxious one also, for it was always possible that the remnant of the Amacoba might attempt pursuit. This however they did not do, for many of them were dead or wounded, and those who remained had no heart left in them. They went back to their mountain home and lived there in shame and wretchedness, for I do not believe there were fifty head of cattle left among the tribe, and caffiers without cattle are nothing. Still they did not starve, since there were plenty of women to work the fields, and we had not touched their corn. The end of them was that Panda gave them to their conqueror, Sadduko, and he incorporated them with the Amangwane, but that did not happen until some time afterwards. When we had rested a while at the wagons the captured beasts were mustered and on, being counted, were found to number a little over twelve hundred head, not reckoning animals that had badly hurt in the fight, which we killed for beef. It was a noble prize truly, and notwithstanding the wound in his thigh, which hurt him a good deal now that it had stiffened. Sadduko stood up and surveyed them with glistening eyes. No wonder, for he who had been so poor was now rich, and would remain so even after he had paid over whatever number of cows Umbezi chose to demand as the price for Mamina's hand. Moreover, he was sure, and I shared his confidence that in these chain circumstances both that young woman and her father would look upon his suit with very favourable eyes. He had, so to speak, succeeded to the title and the family estates by means of a lawsuit brought in the court of the Asegai, and therefore there was hardly a father in Zululand who would shut his crawl gate upon him. We forgot, both of us, the proverb that points out how numerous are the slips between the cup and the lip, which, by the way, is one that has its Zulu equivalents. One of them, if I remember right, at the moment is, however loud the hen cackles, the housewife does not always get the egg. As a chance, although Sadduko's hen was cackling very loudly just at this time, he was not destined to find the coveted egg. But if that matter will speak in its place. I, too, looked at those cattle, wondering whether Sadduko would remember our bargain under which six hundred head of them belonged to me. Six hundred head? Why, putting them at five pounds apiece all round, and as Aksan were very scarce at that time they were worth quite as much, if not more. That meant three thousand pounds, a larger sum of money than I'd ever owned at one time in all my life. Truly the paths of violence were profitable. But would he remember? On the whole I thought probably not, since cafes are not found of parting with cattle. Well, I did him an injustice, for presently he turned and said, with something of an effort, Makumazan, half of all these belong to you, and truly you have earned them, for it was your cunning and good council that gained us the victory. Now we will choose them beast by beast. So I chose a fine ox, then Sadduko chose one, and so it went on till I had eight of my number driven out. As the eighth was taken I turned to Sadduko and said, There, that will do. These Aksan I must have to replace those in my teams which died on the trek, but I want no more. Wow! said Sadduko and all those who stood with him while one of them added, I think it was Sosa. He refuses six hundred cattle which are fairly his. He must be mad. No, friends, I answered, I am not mad, but neither am I bad. I accompanied Sadduko on this raid because he is dear to me and stood by me once in the hour of danger. But I do not love killing men with whom I have no quarrel, and I will not take the price of blood. Wow! said old Sosa again, for Sadduko seemed too astonished to speak. He is a spirit, not a man, he is holy. Not a bit of it, I answered. If you think that, ask Mamina, a dark saying which they did not understand. Now listen, I will not take those cattle because I do not think as you kafirs think. But as they are mine, according to your law, I am going to dispose of them. I give ten head to each of my hunters, and fifteen head to the relations of him who was killed, the rest I give to Sosa, and to the other men of the Amangwane who fought with us to be divided among them in such proportions as they may agree, I being the judge in the event of any quarrel arising. Now these men raised a great cry of INKUSI! And running up old Sosa seized my hand and kissed it. Your heart is big, he cried. You drop fatness, although you are small the spirit of the king lives in you, and the wisdom of the heavens. Thus he praised me while the others joined in till the din was awful. Sadduko thanked me also in his magnificent manner. Yet I do not think he was altogether pleased, although my great gift relieved him from the necessity of sharing up the spoil with his companions. The truth was, or so I believe, that he understood that henceforth the Amangwane would love me better than they loved him. This indeed proved to be the case, for I am sure that there was no man among all those wild fellows who would not have served me to the death. And to this day my name is a power among them and the descendants. Also it has grown into something of a proverb among all those kafirs who know the story. They talk of any great act of liberality in an idiom as a gift of Makumazana, and in the same way of one who makes any remarkable renunciation as aware of Makumazana's blanket, or as he who has stolen Makumazana's shadow. Thus did I earn a great reputation very cheaply, for really I could not have taken those cattle. Also I am sure that, had I done so, they would have brought me bad luck. Indeed one of the regrets of my life is that I had anything whatsoever to do with the business. Our journey back to Mbezi's crowd, further than we were heading, was very slow, hampered as we were, with wounded and by a vast herd of cattle. Through the latter indeed we got rid after a while, for except those which I had given to my men, and a hundred or so of the beasts that Seduko took with him for a certain purpose, they were sent away to a place which he had chosen, in charge of about half of his people under the command of his uncle Tsosa, there to await his coming. Over a month had gone by since the night of the ambush, when at last we outspaned quite close to Mbezi's. In that bush where first I had met the Amangwane freespiers, a very different set of men they looked on this triumphant day to those fierce fellows who had slipped out of the trees at the call of their chief. As we went through the country, Seduko had bought fine muccas and blankets for them. Also headdresses had been made with the long black feathers of the Sakabuli finch, and shields and leglets of the hides and tails of oxen. Moreover having fed plentifully and traveled easily they were fat and well-favoured, as given good food natives soon become after a period of abstinence. The plan of Seduko was to lie quiet in the bush that night, and on the following morning to advance in all his grandeur, accompanied by his spears, present the hundred head of cattle that had been demanded, and formally ask his daughter's hand for Mbezi. As a reader may have gathered already there was a certain histrionic vein in Seduko. Also when he was in feather he liked to show off his plumage. While this plan was carried out to the letter, on the following morning after the sun was well up Seduko, as a great chief does, sent forward two bedays and heralds to announce his approach to Mbezi, after whom followed two other men to sing his deeds in praises. By the way, I observed that they had clearly been instructed to avoid any mention of a person called Makumazan. When we advanced in force, first went Seduko, splendidly apparelled as a chief, carrying a small asegai and adorned with plumes, leglets, and a leopard skin-kilt. He was attended by about half a dozen of the best-looking of his followers who posed as Indunas or counselors. Behind these I walked, a dusty, insignificant little fellow, attended by the ugly, snub-nosed scowl and very greasy pair of trousers worn out European boots through which his toes peeped, and nothing else, and by my three surviving hunters, whose appearance was even more disreputable. After us marched about four score of the transformed Amangwane, and after them came the hundred-picked cattle driven by a few herdsmen. In due course we arrived at the gate of the crowd, where we found that heralds and the praisers, prancing and shouting, �Have you seen Umbezi?� asked Seduko of them. �No� they answered. He was asleep when we got here, but his people say that he is coming out presently. �Tell his people that he had better be quick about it or I shall turn him out� replied the proud Seduko. Just at this moment the crowd gate opened and through it appeared Umbezi, looking extremely fat and foolish. So it struck me frightened, although this he tried to conceal. �Who visits me here?� he said. �So much, um, ceremony!� and with a carved dancing stick he carried he pointed doubtfully at the lines of our men. �Oh, it is you, is it, Seduko?� and he looked him up and down, adding, �How grand you are, to be sure! Have you been robbing, Elinibody?� �And you too, Makumazan?� �Well, you do not look grand. You look like an old cow that has been suckling two calves in the winterveld. What tell me? What are all these warriors for?� I asked, because I have not food for so many, especially as we have just had a feast here. �Fear nothing, Umbezi� answered Seduko in his grandest manner. �I have brought food for my own men, as for my messengers it is simple. You asked a hundred head of cattle as a lobola, that is, the marriage gift, of your daughter Mamina. They are here. Go send your servants to the corral and count them. �Oh, with pleasure� Umbezi replied nervously and he gave some orders to certain men behind him. �I am glad to see that you have become rich in this sudden fashion, Seduko, though how you have done so I cannot understand.� �Never mind how I have become rich� answered Seduko. �I am rich, that is enough for the present. Be pleased to send for Mamina, for I would talk with her. �Yes, yes, Seduko, I understand that you would talk with Mamina, but� and he looked around him desperately. �I fear that she is still asleep. As you know, Mamina was always a late riser, and what is more, she hates to be disturbed. Told you, think that you could come back, say, to-morrow morning. She would be sure to be up by then, or better still the day after. �In which hot is Mamina?� asked Seduko sternly, while I, smelling a rat, began to chuckle to myself. �I really do not know, Seduko� replied Umbezi. �Sometimes she sleeps in one, sometimes in another, and sometimes she goes several hours' journey away to her aunt�s crowd for a change. I would not be in the least surprised if she had done so last night. I have no control over Mamina.� Before Seduko could answer, a shrill, rasping voice broke upon our ears, which after some search I saw proceeded from an ugly and ancient female seated in the shadow, whom I recognized, the lady who was known by the pleasing name of worn-out old cow. �He lies!� screeched the voice. �He lies, thanks be to the spirit of my ancestors, that wild cat Mamina has left this crowd for good. She slept last night not with her aunt, but with her husband Masapo, to whom Umbezi gave her in marriage two days ago, leaving in payment a hundred and twenty head of cattle, which was twenty more than you bid, Seduko.� Now when Seduko heard these words I thought that he would really go mad with rage. He turned quite gray under his dark skin, and for a while trembled like a leaf, looking as though he were about to fall to the ground. Then he left as a lion leaps, and, seizing Umbezi by the throat, hurled him backwards, standing over him with raised spear. �You dog!� he cried in a terrible voice. �Tell me the truth, or I will rip you up. What have you done with Mamina? �Oh, Seduko!� answered Umbezi in choking tones. �Mamina has chosen to get married. It was no fault of mine. She would have her way.� He got no farther, and had I not intervened by throwing my arms about Seduko and dragging him back, that moment would have been Umbezi's last, for Seduko was about to pin him to the earth with his spear. As it proved I was just in time, and Seduko, being weak with emotion, for I felt his heart going like a sledgehammer, could not break from my grasp before his reason returned to him. At length he recovered himself a little and threw down his spear as though to put himself out of temptation. Then he spoke, always in the same terrible voice, asking, �Have you more to say about this business, Umbezi? I would hear all before I answer you.� �Only this, Seduko?� replied Umbezi, who had risen to his feet and was shaking like a reed. �I did no more than any other father would have done. Masapo is a very powerful chief, one who will be a good stick for me to lean on in my old age.� Mameena declared that she wished to marry him. �He lies!� screeched the old cow. What Mameena said was that she had no will towards marriage with any Zulu in the land, so I suppose she's looking after a white man. And she leered in my direction. She said, however, that her father wished to marry her to Masapo. She must be a dutiful daughter and obey him. But that if blood and trouble came of that marriage, let it be on his head and not hers.� �Would you also stick your claws into me, cat?� shouted Umbezi, catching the old woman a savage cut across the back with a light dancing stick which he still held in his hand, whereon she fled away screeching and cursing him. �Oh, Suduko!� he went on. �Let not your ears be poisoned by these falsehoods.� �Mameena never said anything of the sort, or if she did it was not to me.� �Well, the moment that my daughter had consented to take Masapo,� as her husband his people drove a hundred and twenty of the most beautiful cattle over the hill, �and would you have me refuse them, Suduko?� �I am sure that when you have seen them,� you will say that I was quite right to accept such a splendid labola in return for one sharp-tongue girl. Remember, Suduko, that although you had promised a hundred head, that is less by twenty, at the time you did not own one, and where you were to get them from I could not guess, moreover.� He added with a last desperate imaginative effort, for I think he saw that his arguments were making no impression. �Some strangers who called here told me that both you and Makumazan had been killed by certain evildoers in the mountains.� �There, I have spoken, and Suduko, if you now have cattle, why, on my part, I have another daughter, not quite so good looking perhaps, but a much better worker in the field.� �Come, and drink a cup of beer, and I will send for her.� �Stop talking about your other daughter and your beer, and listen to me!� replied Suduko, looking at the essay-guy which he had thrown down to the ground so ominously that I set my foot on it. �I am now a greater chief than the born Masapo.� �Has Masapo such a bodyguard as these eaters up of enemies?� and he jerked his thumb backwards towards the searied lines of fierce-faced Amagwane, who stood listening behind us. �As Masapo as many cattle as I have, whereof those which you see are but a tithe brought as a lobola gift to the father of her who had been promised to me as a wife?� �Is Masapo Panda�s friend?� �I think that I have heard otherwise.� �As Masapo just conquered a countless tribe by his courage and his wit?� �Is Masapo young?� �And of high blood?� �Or is he but an old, low-born boar of the mountains?� �You do not answer, Omebezi, and perhaps you do well to be silent.� �Now listen again!� �Were it not for Makumazan here whom I do not desire to mix up with my quarrels?� �I would bid my men take you and beat you to death with the handles of their spears, and then go on and serve the boar in the same fashion in his mountain sty.� �As it is, these things must wait a little while, especially as I have other matters to attend to first.� �Yet the day is not far off when I will attend to them also.� �Therefore, my counsel to you cheat, is to make haste to die or find the courage to fall on a spear, unless you would learn how it feels to be braided with sticks like a green hide until none can know that you were once a man.� �Send now and tell my words of Masapo the boar, and to Mamina say that soon I will come to take her with spears and not with cattle.� �Do you understand?� �Oh, I see that you do, since already you weep with fear like a woman.� �And farewell to you till that day when I return with the stick so embezi the cheat and the liar embezi, eat her up of elephants�� and turning Suduko stocked away. I was about to follow in a great hurry, having had enough of this very unpleasant scene when poor old embezi sprang at me and clasped me by the arm. �Oh, Makumazana!� he exclaimed weeping in his terror, �Oh, Makumazana, if ever I have been a friend to you, help me out of this deep pit which I have fallen through, the tricks of that monkey of a daughter of mine, who I think is a witch born to bring trouble upon men.� �Makumazana, if she had been your daughter and a powerful chief and appeared with a hundred and twenty head of such beautiful cattle, you would have given her to him, would you not?� �Although he is of mixed blood and not very young, especially as she did not mind who only cares for place and wealth?� �I think not�� I answered. �But then it is not our custom to sell women in that fashion?� �No, no, I forget, this is���as in other matters you white men are mad, and �Makumazana, to tell you the truth, I believe it is you she really cares for�� she said as much to me once or twice. �Well, why did you not take her away when I was not looking?� �We could have settled matters afterwards.� �And I should have been free of her witcheries and not up to my neck in this hole as I am now.� �Because some people don�t do that kind of thing, Umbezi.� �No, no, I forgot.� �Oh, why can I not remember that you are quite mad, and therefore that it must not be expected of you to act as though you were sane?� �Well, at least you are that Tiger Saduko�s friend, which again shows that you must be very mad, for most people would sooner try to milk a cow buffalo than walk hand in hand with him. �Don�t you see, Makumazan, that he means to kill me, Makumazan, to prey me like a green hide, to beat me to death with sticks, and what is more, that unless you prevent him he will certainly do it. Perhaps tomorrow, or the next day.� �Yes, I see, Umbezi, and I think that he will do it. But what I do not see is how I am to prevent him. Remember that you let Mamina grow into his heart and behave badly to him, Umbezi.� �I never promised her to him, Makumazan. I only said that if he brought a hundred cattle then I might promise.� �Well, he is wipe out the Amakoba, the enemies of his house, and there are the hundred cattle whereof and he has many more, and now it is too late for you to keep your share of the bargain. So I think that you must make yourself as comfortable as you can in that hole that your hands dug, Umbezi, which I would not share for all the cattle in Zululand.� �Truly you are not one from whom to seek comfort in the hour of distress,� grown poor Umbezi, then added, brightening up. �Perhaps Panda will kill him because he is wiped out Bangu in a time of peace. Oh, Makumazan, can you not persuade Panda to kill him? If so, I now have more cattle than I really want.� �Impossible,� I answered. �Panda is his friend, and between ourselves I may tell you that he ate up the Amakoba by his special wish. When the king hears of it he will call to Sadukot to sit in his shadow and make him great, one of his counselors, probably with power of life and death over little people like you and Masappo.� �And it is finished,� Sadumbezi faintly. �And I will try to die like a man, but to be braided like a hide and with thin sticks.� He added, grinding his teeth. �If only I can get a hold of Mamina. I will not leave much of that pretty hair of hers upon her head. I will tie her hands and shudder up with the old cow who loves her as a meerkat loves a mouse.� �No, I will kill her. There do you hear, Makumazan, unless you do something to help me, I will kill Mamina. And you won�t like that, for I am sure that she is dear to you, although you are not man enough to run away with her as she wished.� �If you touch Mamina,� I said, �be certain, my friend, that Sadukot�s sticks in your skin will not be far apart. For I will report you to Panda myself as an unnatural evil doer. Now harken to me, you old fool. Sadukot is so fond of your daughter, on this point being mad, as you say that I am, that if only he could get her I think he might overlook the fact of her having been married before. What you have to do is try to buy her back from Masapo. Mind you, I say buy her back, not get her by bloodshed, which you might do by persuading Masapo to put her away. Then, if he knew that you were trying to do this, I think that Sadukot might leave his sticks uncut for a while.� �I will try. I will indeed, Makumazan. I will try very hard. It is true, Masapo is an obstinate pig. Still, if he knows that his own life is at stake, he might give way. Moreover, when she learns that Sadukot has grown rich and great, Mamina might help me.� �Oh, thank you, Makumazan. You are indeed the prop of my hut. And it, and all in it, are yours. Farewell, farewell, Makumazan, if you must go. But why? Why did you not run away with Mamina and save me all this fear and trouble?� �So I, in that old Humba-Gumbazi, Eater up of elephants, parted for a while. And never did I know him in a more chastened frame of mind except once, as I shall tell.� End of Chapter 7 8 The King's Daughter When I got back to my wagons after this semi-tragical interview with that bombastic and self-seeking old Wimbag-Umbazi, it was to find that Sadukot and his warriors had already marched for the King's Crow, Nodwangu. A message awaited me, however, to the effect that it was hope that I would follow in order to make report of the affair of the destruction of the Amakoba. This, after reflection, I determined to do, really, I think, because of the intense human interest of the whole business. I wanted to see how it would work out. Also, in a way, I read Sadukot's mind and understood that at the moment he did not wish to discuss the matter of his hideous disappointment. Whatever else may have been false in this man's nature, one thing rang true, namely his love or his infatuation for the girl Mamina. Throughout his life she was his guiding star, about as evil a star as could have arisen upon any man's horizon. The fatal star that was to light him down to doom. Let me thank Providence, as I do, that I was so fortunate as to escape its baneful influences, although I admit that they attracted me not a little. So, seduced there by my curiosity which has so often led me into trouble, I attracted Nadwangu, full of many doubts not unmingled with amusement, for I could not rid my mind of recollections of the utter terror of the eater-up of elephants, when he was brought face to face with the dreadful and concentrated rage of the Robb Sadukot, and the promise of his vengeance. Ultimately I arrived at the great place without experiencing any adventure that is worthy of record, and camped in a spot that was appointed to me by some Induna, whose name I forget, but who evidently knew of my approach, for I found him awaiting me at some distance from the town. Here I sat for quite a long while, two or three days, if I remember right, amusing myself with killing or missing turtle doves with a shotgun and similar pastimes until something should happen, or I grew tired and started for Natal. In the end, just as I was about to track sea-words, an old friend, Maputa, turned up at my wagons, that same man who had brought me the message from Panda before we started to attack Pangu. —Greeting, Makumazan! — he said. —What are the amakoba? I see they did not kill you. —No, I answered handing him some snuff. They did not quite kill me, for here I am. —What is your pleasure with me? —Oh, Makumazan! Only that the king wishes to know whether you have any of those little balls left in the box which I brought back to you, since, if so, he thinks he would like to swallow one of them in this hot weather. I proffered him the whole box, but he would not take it, saying that the king would like me to give it to him myself. Now I understood that this was a summons to an audience and asked when it would please Panda to receive me and the little black stones that work wonders. He answered at once. So he started, and within an hour I stood or rather sat before Panda. Like all his family the king was an enormous man, but unlike Chaka and those of his brothers whom I had known, one of a kindly countenance. I saluted him by lifting my cap and took my place upon a wooden stool that had been provided for me outside the great hut, in the shadow of which he sat within his izzy golo or private enclosure. —Greeting, O Makumazanah! he said. I am glad to see you safe and well, for I understand that you have been engaged upon a perilous adventure since we last met. —Yes, king, I answered, but to which adventure do you refer? That of the buffalo and seduco helped me, or that of the amacoba when I helped seduco. The latter Makumazan, of which I desire to hear all the story. So I told it to him, he and I being alone, for he commanded his counsellors and servants to retire out of hearing. —Wow! he said when I had finished. You are clever as a baboon, Makumazan. That was a fine trick to set a trap for Bangu and his amacoba dogs and bait it with his own cattle. But they tell me that you refuse to share of those cattle. Now, why was that, Makumazan? By way of answer I repeated to Panda my reasons, which I have set out already. —Ah! he exclaimed, when I had finished. Every one seeks greatness in his own way, and perhaps yours is better than ours. Well, the white man walks one road, or some of them do, and the black man another. They both end at the same place, and none will know which is the right road until the journey is done. Meanwhile, what you lose, Sadukko and his people gain. He is a wise man, Sadukko, who knows how to choose his friends, and his wisdom has brought him victory and gifts. But to you, Makumazan, it has brought nothing but honour, on which if a man feeds only he will grow thin. —I like to be thin, O Panda. I answered slowly. —Yes, yes, I understand, replied the king, who, in common with most natives, was quick enough to seize a point. And I too like people who keep thin on such food as yours. People also whose hands are always clean. We Zulus trust you, Makumazan, as we trust few white men, for we have known for years that your lips say what your heart thinks, and that your heart always thinks the thing which is good. You may be named watcher by night, but you love light, not darkness. Now with these somewhat unusual compliments I bowed, and felt myself colouring a little as I did so, even through my sunburn, but I made no answer to them, since to do so would have involved a discussion of the past and its tragical events, into which I had no wish to enter. Panda, too, remained silent for a while. Then he called to a messenger to summon the princes, Setawayo and Umbelazi, to bid Seduko, the son of Matawane, to wait without, in case he should wish to speak with them. A few minutes later the two princes arrived. I watched their coming with interest, for they were the most important men in Zululand, and already the nation debated fiercely which of them would succeed to the throne. I will try to describe them a little. They were both of much the same age. It is always difficult to arrive at a Zulu's exact years, and both fine young men. Setawayo, however, had the stronger countenance. It was said that he resembled that fierce and able monster Chaka, the wild beast, his uncle. And certainly I perceived in him a likeness to his other uncle, Dingan, Umbanda's predecessor, whom I had known but too well when I was a lad. He had the same surly eyes and haughty bearing. Also, when he was angry his mouth shut itself in the same iron fashion. Avumbelazi is difficult for me to speak without enthusiasm, as Mamina was the most beautiful woman I ever saw in Zululand, although it is true that old war-dog Umslopagas, a friend of mine who does not come into this story, used to tell me that Nada the Lily, whom I have mentioned, was even lovelier. So Umbelazi was by far the most splendid man. Indeed the Zulu's named him Umbelazi the Handsome. And no wonder, to begin with, he stood at least three inches above the tallest of them. From a quarter of a mile away I recognized him by his great height, even through the dust of a desperate battle. And his breath was proportionate to his stature. Then he was perfectly made. His great shapely limbs ending like seducos and small hands and feet, his face, too, was well cut and open. His color lighter than seduroyos and his eyes, which always seemed to smile or large and dark. Even before they passed the small gate of the inner fence it was easy for me to see that this royal pair were not upon the best of terms. For each of them tried to get through at first, to show his right of precedence. The result was somewhat ludicrous, for they jammed in the gateway. Here, however, Umbelazi's greater weight told for putting out his strength he squeezed his brother into the reeds of the fence and won through a foot or so in front of him. You grow too fat, my brother, I heard seduroyos say and saw him scowl as he spoke. If I had held an asegai in my hand you would have been cut. I know it, my brother, answered Umbelazi with a good humor laugh. But I knew also that none may appear before the king armed. Had it been otherwise I would rather have followed after you. Now at this hint of Umbelazi's that he would not trust his brother behind his back with a spear, although it seemed to be conveyed in jest. I saw Panda shift uneasily in his seat, while seduroyos scowled even more ominously than before. However, no further words passed between them, and walking up to the king side by side they saluted him with raised hands calling out Baba, that is, Father. Greetings, my children, said Panda, adding hastily for he saw a quarrel as to which of them would take the seat of honour on his right. Sit here in front of me, both of you, and Makumazan. Do you come hither? And he pointed to the coveted place. I am a little deaf in my left ear this morning, so these brothers sat themselves down in front of the king, nor were they, I think, grieved to find this way out of their rivalry. But first they shook hands with me, for I knew them both, though not well, and even in this small matter the old trouble arose, since there was some difficulty as to which of them should first offer me his hand. Ultimately I remember seduroyo won this trick. When these preliminaries were finished, Panda addressed the princes, saying, My sons, I have sent for you to ask your counsel upon a certain matter, not a large matter but one that may grow. And he paused to take snuff, whereon both of them ejaculated. We hear you, father. Well, my sons, the matter is that of Sadduko, the son of Matewane, chief of the Amangwane, whom Bangu, chief of the Amakoba, ate up years ago by leave of him who went before me. Now this Bangu, as you know, has for some time been a thorn in my foot, a thorn that caused it to fester, and yet I did not wish to make war on him. So I spoke a word in the ear of Sadduko, saying, He is yours if you can kill him, and his cattle are yours. Well, Sadduko is not dull. With the help of this white man Markumazon, our friend from old, he has killed Bangu and taken his cattle, and already my foot is beginning to heal. We have heard it, said Sadawayo. It was a great deed, Adidumbelazi, a more generous critic. Yes, continued Panda, I too think it was a great deed, seeing that Sadduko had but a small regiment of warriors to back him. Ne, interrupted Sadawayo. It was not those eaters of rats who won him the day, it was the wisdom of this Markumazon. Markumazon's wisdom would have been of little use without the courage of Sadduko and his rats, commented Umbelazi. And from this moment I saw that the two brothers were taking sides for and against Sadduko, as they did upon every other matter, not because they cared for the right of whatever was in question, but because they wished to oppose each other. But the point is this, I think Sadduko a man of promise, and one who should be advanced that he may learn to love us all, especially as his house has suffered wrong from our house, since he who is gone listened to the evil council of Bangu and allowed him to kill out Matawane's tribe without just cause. Therefore, in order to wipe away his stain and bind Sadduko to us, I think it well to re-establish Sadduko in the chieftainship of the Amangwane, with the lands that his father held, and to give him also the chieftainship of the Amakoba, of whom it seems that the women and children with some of the men remain, although he already holds their cattle which he has captured in war. As the king pleases, Sadumbelazi with a yawn, for he was growing weary of listening to the case of Sadduko, but Setawayo said nothing, for he appeared to be thinking of something else. I think also, went on Panda in a rather uncertain voice, in order to bind him so close that the bonds may never be broken, it would be wise to give him a woman of our family in marriage. Why should this little Amangwane be allowed to marry into the royal house? asked Setawayo, looking up. If he is dangerous, why not kill him and have done? For this reason, my son, there is trouble ahead in Zulaland, and I do not wish to kill those who may help us in that hour, nor do I wish them to become our enemies. I wish that they may be our friends, and therefore it seems to me wise when we find a seed of greatness to water it, and not to dig it up or plant it in a neighbor's garden. From his deeds I believe that this Sadduko is such a seed. Our father has spoken, Sadumbalazi, and I like Sadduko, who is a man of metal and of good blood. Which of our sisters does our father propose to give him? She who is named after the mother of our race, O Umbalazi, she whom your own mother bore, your sister Nandi, in English the sweet. A great gift, O my father, since Nandi is both fair and wise. Also, what does she think of this matter? She thinks well of it, Umbalazi, for she has seen Sadduko and taken a liking to him. She told me herself that she wishes no other husband. Is it so? replied Umbalazi indifferently. Then if the king commands and the king's daughter desires, what more is there to be said? Much, I think, broken Sadduko, I hold that it is out of place that this little man who has but conquered a little tribe by borrowing the wit of Makumazan here should be rewarded not only with a chieftainship but with the hand of the wisest and most beautiful of the king's daughters and even though Umbalazi, he added with a sneer, should be willing to throw him his own sister like a bone to a passing dog. Who threw the bones at the while? asked Umbalazi, awaking out of his indifference. Was it the king, or was it I, who never heard of the matter to this moment? And who are we that we should question the king's decrees? Is it our business to judge or to obey? As Sadduko perchance made you a present of some of those cattle which he stole from the Amakoba Umbalazi? asked Sadduayo. As our father asked no lobola, perhaps you have taken the gift instead. The only gift I have taken from Sadduko, Sadumbalazi, who I could see was hard pressed to keep his temper, is that of his service. He is my friend, which is why you hate him, as you hate all my friends. Must I then love every stray cur that licks your hand, Umbalazi? Oh, no need to tell me he is your friend, for I know it was you who put it into our father's heart to allow him to kill Bangu and to steal his cattle, which I hold to be an ill deed, for now the great house is thatched with the reeds and Bangu's blood is on its door-posts. Moreover, he who wrought the wrong is to come and dwell therein, and for ought I know to be called a prince like you and me? Why should he not, since the princess Nandi is to be given to him in marriage? Certainly, Umbalazi, you would do well to take the cattle which his white trader has refused for all men know that you have earned them. Now Umbalazi sprang up, straightening himself to the full of his great height, and spoke in a voice that was thick with passion. I pray your leave to withdraw, O King, he said, since if I stay here longer I shall grow sorry that I have no spear in my hand. Yet before I go I will tell the truth. Setawayo hates Setuko, because knowing him to be a chief of wit and courage who will grow great, he sought him for his man, saying, Sit you in my shadow, after he had promised to sit in mine. Therefore it is that he heaps these taunts upon me. Let him deny it if he can. That I shall not trouble to do, Umbalazi, answered Setawayo with a scowl. Who are you that spy upon my doings, and with a mouth full of lies call me to account before the King? I will hear no more of it. Do you bide here and pay Setuko his price with the person of our sister? For as the King has promised her his word cannot be changed. Only let your dog know that I keep a stick for him if he should snarl at me. Farewell, my father. I go upon a journey to my own lordship, the land of Gikazi, and there you will find me when you want me, which I pray may not be till after this marriage is finished, for on that I will not trust my eyes to look. Then with a salute he turned and departed, bidding no good-bye to his brother. My hand, however, he shook in farewell, for Setawayo was always friendly to me, perhaps because he thought I might be useful to him. Also, as I learned afterwards, he was very pleased with me for the reason that I had refused my share of the Amakoba cattle, and that he knew I had no part in the proposed marriage between Setuko and Nandi, of which indeed I now heard for the first time. My father, Setumbalazi when Setawayo had gone, is this to be borne? Am I to blame in the matter? You have heard and seen answer me, my father. No, you are not to blame this time, Umbalazi, replied the King with a heavy sigh. But, oh, my sons, my sons, where will your quarreling end? I think that only a river of blood can quench so fierce a fire, and then which of you will live to reach its bank. For a while he looked at Umbalazi, and I saw love and fear in his eye, for towards him Panda had always more affection than any for his other children. Setawayo has behaved ill, he said at length, and before a white man who will report the matter, which makes it worse. He has no right to dictate to me to whom I shall or shall not give my daughters in marriage. Moreover, I have spoken, nor do I change my word because he threatens me. It is known throughout the land that I never change my word, and the white men know it also. Do they not, oh, mugumazana? I answered yes, they did. Also, this was true, for, like most weak men, Panda was very obstinate and honest too, in his own fashion. He waved his hand to show that the subject was ended, then bathed Umbalazi to go to the gate and send a messenger to bring in the son of Matewane. Presently Sadduko arrived, looking very stately and composed as he lifted his right hand and gave Panda the bayete, the royal salute. Be seated, said the king. I have words for your ear. Thereon, with the most perfect grace, without hurrying and without undue delay, Sadduko crouched himself down upon his knees, with one of his elbows resting on the ground, as only a native knows how to do without looking absurd and weighted. Son of Matewane, said the king. I have heard all the story of how, with a small company you destroyed Bangu and most of the men of the Amakoba, and ate up their cattle every one. Your pardon, black one, interrupted Sadduko. I am but a boy, I did nothing. It was Makumazan, watcher by night, who sits yonder. His wisdom taught me how to snare the Amakoba, after they were decoyed from their mountain. And it was Socha, my uncle who loosed the cattle from the corrals. I say that I did nothing except to strike a blow or two with a spear when I must, just as a baboon throws stones at those who would steal its young. I am glad to see that you are no boaster, Sadduko, said Panda. Would that more of the Zulus were like you in that matter, for then I must not listen to so many loud songs about little things. At least Bangu was killed and his proud tribe humbled, and for reasons of state I am glad that this happened without my moving a regiment or being mixed up with the business. For I tell you that there are some of my family who loved Bangu, but I loved your father Matawane whom Bangu butchered, for we were brought up together as boys. Yes, we served together in the same regiment, the Amawambe, when the wild one my brother ruled. He meant Chaka, for among the Zulus the names of the dead kings are Lonipa, that is, they must not be spoken if it can be avoided. Therefore, went on Panda, this reason and for others I am glad that Bangu has been punished, and that although vengeance has crawled after him like a footsaw bowl, at length he has been tossed with its horns and crushed with its knees. Because you are your father's son and because you have shown yourself a man, although you are still little in the land, I am minded to advise you. Therefore I give you the chieftainship over those who remain of the Amakoba and over all the Amangwane, blood whom you can gather. Bayete, as the king pleases, said Suduko, and I give you leave to become Akila, a wearer of the head ring, although as you have said you are still but a boy, and with it a place upon my council. Bayete, as the king pleases, said Suduko, still apparently unmoved by the honours that were being heaped upon him. And, son of Matewane, went on Panda, you are still unmarried, are you not? Now for the first time Suduko's face changed. Yes, black one, he said hurriedly, but here he caught my eye in reading some warning in it was silent. But, repeated Panda after him, doubtless you would like to be, well it is natural in a young man who wishes to be found a house, and therefore I give you leave to marry. Yes, a wild beast. I thank the king, but here I sneeze loudly, and he ceased. But, repeated Panda, of course you do not know where to find a wife between the time the hawks, stoops, and the rats squeaks in its claws. How should you, who have never thought of the matter? Also, you continue with a smile, it is well that you have not thought of it since she whom I shall give to you could not live in the second hut in your crowl and call another in kuzikazi, that is, headlady or chieftainess. Umbalazi, my son, go fetch her of whom we have thought as a bride for this boy. Now Umbalazi rose and went with a broad smile upon his face, while Panda somewhat fatigued with all his speech-making, for he was very fat and the day was very hot, leaned his head back against the hut and closed his eyes. O black one, O thou who consumeth with rage, la glamandala, broke out Seduco, who I could see was much disturbed. I have something to say to you. No doubt, no doubt, answered Panda drowsily, but save up your thanks till you have seen, or you will have none left afterwards. And he snored slightly. Now I, perceiving that Seduco is about to ruin himself, thought it well to interfere, though what business of mine it was to do so I cannot say. At any rate, if only I had held my tongue at this moment and allowed Seduco to make a fool of himself as he wished to do, for where Mamina was concerned he never could be wise. I verily believe that all the history of Zululand would have run a different course and that many thousands of men, white and black, who are now dead, would be alive to-day, but fate ordered it otherwise. Yes, it was not I who spoke but fate. The angel of doom used my throat as his trumpet. Seeing that Panda does, I slipped behind Seduco and gripped him by the arm. Are you mad? I whispered into his ear. Would you throw away your fortune and your life also? But Mamina, he whispered back, I would marry none save Mamina. Fool! I answered, Mamina has betrayed and spat upon you. Take what the heavens send you and give thanks. Would you wear Masapo's soiled blanket? Makumazan, he said in a hollow voice. I will follow your head and not my own heart, yet you sow a strange seed, Makumazan, or so you may think when you see its fruit. And he gave me a wild look, a look that frightened me. There was something in this look which caused me to reflect that I might do well to go away and leave Seduco, Mamina, Nandi, and the rest of them to drear their weards, as the scots say, for, after all, what is my finger doing in that very hot stew, getting burnt, I thought, and not collecting any stew. Yet, looking back on these events, how could I foresee what would be the end of the madness of Seduco, of the fearful machinations of Mamina, and of the weakness of Umbilasi, when she snared him in the net of her beauty, thus bringing about his ruin, through the hate of Seduco and the ambition of Setawayo. How could I know that at the back of all these events, to the old dwarves to cally the wise, working night and day to slake the enmity and fulfill the vengeance which, long ago, he had conceived and planned against the royal house of Senzengakoka, and the Zulu people over whom it ruled. Yes, he stood there like a man behind a great stone upon the brow of a mountain, slowly, remorselessly, and with infinite skill, labour, and patience, pushing that stone to the edge of the cliff, when set length, in the appointed hour, it would thunder down upon those who dwelt beneath, to leave them crushed and no more of people. How could I guess that we, the actors in this play, were all the while helping him to push that stone, and that he cared nothing how many of us were carried with it into the abyss, if only we brought about the triumph of his secret, unutterable rage and hate. Now I see and understand all these things as it is easy to do, but then I was blind, nor did the voices reach my dull ears to warn me as how or why I cannot tell they did, I believe, reach those of Zikali. Oh, what was the sum of it? Just this, I think, and nothing more, that as Suduko and the others were Mamina's tools, and as all of them and their possessions were Zikali's tools, so he himself was the tool of some unseen power that used him and us to accomplish its design, which I suppose is fatalism, or in other words all these things happen because they must happen. A poor conclusion to reach after so much thought and striving and not complementary to man and his boasted powers of free will. Still one to which many of us are often driven, especially if we have lived among savages where such dramas worked themselves out openly and swiftly, unhidden from our eyes by the veils and the sub-diffuges of civilization. At least there is comfort about it that if we are but feathers blown by the wind, how can the individual feather be blamed because it did not travel against, turn, or keep back the wind? Well, let me return from these speculations to the history of the facts that caused them, just as a little too late had made up my mind that I would go after my own business and leave Suduko to manage his. Through the fence gateway appeared the great, tall Umbalazi leading by the hand of a woman. As I saw in a moment it did not need certain bangles of copper ornaments of ivory and of the very rare pink beads called infiberinga, which only those of the royal house were permitted to wear, to proclaim her a person of rank, for dignity and high blood were apparent in her face, her carriage, her gestures, and all that had to do with her. Nandi the sweet was not a great beauty, as was Mamina, although her figure was fine and her stature like that of all the race of Senzen Gakonka, considerably above the average. To begin with she was darker in hue and her lips were rather thick, as was her nose. Nor were her eyes large and liquid like those of an antelope. Further she lacked the informing mystery of Mamina's face, that at times was broken and lit up by flashes of alluring light and quick sympathetic perception. As a heavy evening sky that seems to join the dim earth to the dimmer heavens as illuminated by pulsings of fire, soft many hues, suggesting but not revealing the strength and splendor that it veils. Nandi had none of these attractions, which, after all, anywhere upon the earth belonging only to a few women in each generation. She was a simple, honest natured, kindly affectionate young woman of high birth, no more. That is, as these qualities are understood and expressed among her people. Umbilazi led her forward into the presence of the king to whom she bowed gracefully enough. Then, after casting a swift, side-long glance at Suduko, which I found it difficult to interpret, and another of inquiry at me, she folded her hands upon her breast and stood silent, with bent head, waiting to be addressed. The address was brief enough, for Panda was still sleepy. My daughter, he said with a yawn. There stand your husband, and he jerked his thumb toward Suduko. He is a young man and brave and unmarried, also one who should grow great in the shadow of our house, especially as he is a friend of your brother Umbilazi. I understand also that you have seen him and like him, unless you have anything to say against it, for as not being a common father the king receives no cattle, at least in this case. I am not prejudice, but will listen to your words, and he chuckled in a drowsy fashion. I propose that the marriage should take place to-morrow. Now, my daughter, have you anything to say, for if so, please say it at once, as I am tired. The eternal wranglings between your brother and Setawayo Umbilazi have worn me out. Now Nandi looked about her in her open, honest fashion, her gaze resting first on Suduko, then on Umbilazi, and lastly upon me. My father, she said a length in her soft, steady voice, tell me, I beseech you, who proposes this marriage? Is it the chief Suduko? Is it the prince Umbilazi? Or is it the white lord, whose true name I do not know, but who is called Makumazan, watcher by night? I can't remember which of them proposed it, Yon Panda. Who can keep on talking about things from night till morning? At any rate, I propose it, and I will make your husband a big man among our people. Have you anything to say against it? I have nothing to say, my father. I have met Suduko and like him well. For the rest, you are the judge. But, she added slowly, does Suduko like me? When he speaks my name, does he feel it here? And she pointed to her throat. I am sure I do not know what he feels in his throat. Panda replied testily, but I feel that mine is dry. Well, as no one says anything, the matter is settled. Tomorrow Suduko shall give the Umbilazo, the ox of the girl, that makes marriage. If he has not got one, here I will lend it to him, and you can take the new big hut that I have built in the outer crowd to dwell in for the present. There will be a dance, if you wish it, if not, I do not care, for I have no wish for ceremony just now. Uem too troubled with great matters. Now I am going to sleep. Then, sinking from his stool on to his knees, Panda crawled through the doorway of his great hut, which was close to him and vanished. Umbilazi and I departed, also, through the gateway of the fence, leaving Suduko and the Princess Nandi alone together, for there were no attendants present. What happened between them, I am sure I do not know, but I gather that, in one way or another, Suduko made himself sufficiently agreeable to the Princess, to persuade her to take him to husband. Perhaps, being already enamored of him, she was not difficult to persuade, at any rate, on the morrow, without any great feasting or fuss except the customary dance. The Umbilizo, the ox of the girl, was slaughtered, and Suduko became the husband of a royal maiden of the house of Senzangankona. Certainly, as I remember reflecting, it was a remarkable rise in life for one who, but a few months before, had been without possessions or a home. I may add that, after our brief talk in the King's crowd while Panda was dozing, I had no further words with Suduko on this matter of his marriage, for between his proposal and the event he avoided me, nor did I seek him out. On the day of the marriage also, I trekked for Natal, and for a whole year heard no more of Suduko, Nandi, and Mamina. Although, to be frank, I must admit that I thought the last of these persons more often, more than I should have done. The truth is that Mamina was one of those women who sticks in a man's mind even more closely than a weight-a-bit thorn does in his coat. End of Chapter 8. Recording by Keith Salas. Chapter 9 of Child of Storm This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Child of Storm by H. Ryder Haggard. Chapter 9. Allen Returns to Zululand A whole year had gone by in which I did or tried to do various things that have no connection with this story. When once more I found myself in Zululand. At whom bezies crawl indeed. Hither I had tracked in fulfillment of a certain bargain, already alluded to, that was concerned with ivory and guns, which I had made with the old fellow, or rather, with Masapo, his son-in-law, whom we represented in this matter. Into the exact circumstances of that bargain I do not enter, since at the moment I cannot recall whether I ever obtained a necessary permit to import these guns into Zululand. Although now that I am older, I earnestly hope that I did so, since it is wrong to sell weapons to natives that may be put to all sorts of unforeseen uses. At any rate, there I was, sitting alone with the headmen in his hut, discussing a dram of square face that I had given to him, for the trade was finished to our mutual satisfaction, and scowl my body-servant with the hunters had just carried off the ivory, a fine lot of tusks, to my wagons. Well, Loombezi, I said, and how has it fared with you since we parted a year ago? Have you seen anything of Saduko, who, you may remember, left you in some wrath? Thanks be to my spirit, I have seen nothing of that wild man, Makumazan, and so Loombezi is shaking his fat old head in a fashion which showed great anxiety. Yet I have heard of him, for he sent me a message the other day to tell me that he had not forgotten what he owed me. Did he mean the sticks with which he promised to bray you like a green hide? I inquired innocently. I think so, Makumazan. I think so, for certainly he owes me nothing else. And the worst of it is that there at Panda's Crowl he has grown like a pumpkin on a dung-heap. Great, great! And therefore is now one who can pay any debt that he owes, Loombezi. I said, taking a pole of the square face and looking at him over the top of the Benneken. Doubtless he can, Makumazan, and between you and me, that is the real reason why I, or rather Masapo, was so anxious to get those guns. They were not for hunting as I told you by the messenger or for war, but to protect us against Saduko in case he should attack. Well, now I hope we shall be able to hold our own. You and Masapo must teach your people to use them first, Loombezi. But I expect Saduko has forgotten all about both of you now, that he is the husband of a princess of the royal blood. Tell me, how goes it with Mamina? Oh, well, well, Makumazan, for is she not the headlady of the Amasomi? There is nothing wrong with her, nothing at all, except that, as yet, she has no child. Also that, and he paused, that what, I asked, that she hates the very sight of her husband Masapo and says that she would rather be married to a baboon, yes, to a baboon, than to him, which gives him offence after he has paid so many cattle for her. But what of this, Makumazan? There is always a grain missing upon the fine head of corn. Nothing is quite perfect in the world, Makumazan. And if Mamina does not chance to love her husband, and he shrugged his shoulders and drank some square-face, of course it does not matter in the least, Loombezi, except to Mamina and her husband, who will no doubt settle down in time, now that Saduko is married to a princess of the Zulu House. I hope so, Makumazan, but to tell you the truth I wish you had brought more guns, for I live amongst a terrible lot of people. Masapo, who is furious with Mamina because she will have none of him, and therefore with me is though I could control Mamina. Mamina, who is mad with Masapo and therefore with me because I gave her in marriage to him. Saduko, who foams at the mouth at the name of Masapo because he has married Mamina, whom it is said he still loves and therefore at me, because I am her father and did my best to settle her in the world. Oh, give me some of that fire-water, Makumazan, for it makes me forget all these things. And especially that my guardian spirit may me the father of Mamina, with whom you would not run away when you might have done so. Oh, Makumazan, why did you not run away with Mamina and turn her into a quiet, white woman who dives herself up in sags, sings songs to the great, great in the sky, that is hymns to the power above us, and never thinks of any man who is not her husband? Because if I had done so, Umbezi, I should have ceased to be a quiet, white man. Yes, yes, my friend, I should have been in some such place as yours today, and that is the last thing that I wish. And now, Umbezi, you have had quite enough square face, so I will take the bottle away with me. Good night. On the following morning I tracked very early from Umbezi's growl, before he was up in deed, for the square face made him sleep sound. My destination was Nadwengu, Panda's great place, where I hoped to do some trading. But as I was in no particular hurry, my plan was to go round by Masappos and see for myself how it fared between him and Mamina. Indeed, I reached the borders of the Amasomi territory, whereof Masappo was chief by evening and camp there. But with the night came reflection, and reflection told me that I should do well to keep clear of Mamina and her domestic complications, if she had any. So I changed my mind, and next morning trekked on to Nadwengu by the only route that my guides reported to be predictable, one which took me a long way around. That day, owing to the roughness of the road, if road it could be called, and an accident to one of the wagons, we only covered about 15 miles, and as night fell we were obliged to outspan at the first spot where we could find water. When the oxen had been on yoke, I looked about me and saw that we were in a place that, although I had approached it from somewhat different direction, I had not her husband recognized at once as the mouth of the black cloof, in which, over a year before, I had interviewed Zikali the little and wise. There was no mistaking the spot, that blasted valley with the piled up columns of boulders and the overhanging cliff at the end of it, have so far as I'm aware no exact counterparts in Africa. I sat upon the box of the first wagon eating my food, which consisted of some bitong and biscuit, for I had not bothered to shoot any game that day, which was very hot, and wondering whether Zikali were still alive, also whether I should take the trouble to walk up the cloof and find out. On the whole I thought that I would not, as the place repelled me, and I did not particularly wish to hear any more of his prophecies in fierce ill omen talk, so I just sat there studying the wonderful effect of the red evening light pouring up between those walls of fantastic rocks. Presently I perceived far away a single human figure, whether it were man or woman I could not tell, walking towards me along the path which ran at the bottom of the cliff. In those gigantic surroundings it looks extraordinarily small and lonely, although perhaps because of the intense red light in which it was bathed, or perhaps just because it was human, a living thing in the midst of all that still inanimate grandeur, it caught and focused my attention. I grew greatly interested in it. I wondered if it were that of man or woman, and what it was doing here in this haunted valley. The figure drew nearer, and now I saw it was slender and tall, like that of a lad or of a well-grown woman. But to which sex it belonged I could not see, because it was draped in a cloak of beautiful gray fur. Just then Skow came to the other side of the wagon to speak to me about something, which took off my attention for the next two minutes. When I looked round again it was to see the figure standing within three yards of me, its face hidden by a kind of hood which was attached to the fur cloak. Who are you and what is your business? I asked, whereon a gentle voice answered, Do you not know me, O Makumazana? How can I know who is tied up like a gourd in a mat? Yet, is it not? Is it not? Yes, it is Mamina, and I am very pleased that you should remember my voice, Makumazana, after we have been separated for such a long, long time. And with a sudden movement she threw back the karas, hood and all revealing herself and all her strange beauty. I jumped down off the wagon-box and took her hand. O Makumazana! she said while I still held it, or to be accurate while she still held mine. Indeed my heart is glad to see a friend again. And she looked at me with her appealing eyes which in the red light I could see appeared to float in tears. A friend, Mamina, I exclaimed. Why now you are so rich in the wife of a big chief you must have plenty of friends. Alas, Makumazana! I am rich in nothing except trouble, for my husband saves like the ants for winter. Why, he even grudged me this poor karos, and as for friends, he is so jealous that he will not allow me any. He cannot be jealous of women, Mamina. Oh, women! I do not care for women. They are very unkind to me because, because, well, perhaps you can guess why, Makumazana. She answered glancing at her own reflection in a little traveling looking glass that hung from the woodwork of the wagon. For I had been using it to brush my hair and smile very sweetly. At least you have your husband, Mamina, and I thought that perhaps by this time she held up her hand. My husband! Oh, I would that I had him not, for I hate him, Makumazana, and as for the rest, never. The truth is that I never cared for any man except one whose name you may chance to remember, Makumazana. I suppose you mean Saduko? I began. Tell me, Makumazana, she inquired innocently. Are white people very stupid? I ask you, because you do not seem as clever as you used to be, or have you perhaps a bad memory. Now I felt myself turning red as the sky behind me and broken hurriedly. If you do not like your husband, Mamina, you should not have married him. You know you need not unless you wished. When one has only two thorn bushes to sit on, Makumazana, one chooses that which seems to have the fewest prickles to discover sometimes that they are still there in hundreds, although one did not see them. You know that at length everyone gets tired of standing. That is why you have taken the walking, Mamina. I mean, what are you doing here alone? I? Oh, I heard that you were passing this way and came to have a talk with you. No, from you I cannot hide even the least bit of the truth. I came to talk with you, but also I came to see Zikali and ask him what a wife should do who hates her husband. Indeed. And what did he answer you? He answered that he thought she had better run away with another man if there were one whom she did not hate, out of Zululand, of course. She replied, looking first at me and then at my wagon and the two horses that were tied to it. Is that all, he said, Mamina? No, have I not told you that I cannot hide one grain of the truth from you? He added that the only other thing to be done was to sit still and drink my sour milk, pretending that it is sweet until my spirit gives me a new cow. He seemed to think that my spirit would be bountiful in the matter of new cows one day. Any thing more, I inquired. One little thing, have I not told you that you shall have all, all the truth? Zikali seemed to think also that at last every one of my herd of cows, old and new, would come to a bad end. He did not tell me to what end. She turned her head aside and when she looked up again I saw that she was weeping, really weeping this time, not just making her eyes swim as she did before. Of course they would come to a bad end, Makomasan. She went on in a soft, thick voice. For I and all with whom I have to do were torn out of the reeds, i.e. created, that way. And that's why I won't tempt you to run away with me any more, as I meant to do when I saw you because it is true, Makomasan. You are the only man I ever liked or shall love her like, and you know that I could make you run away with me if I chose, although I am black and you are white. Oh yes, before tomorrow morning. But I won't do it, for why should I catch you in my unlucky web and bring you into all sorts of trouble among my people and your own? Go you your road, Makomasan, and I will go mine as the wind blows me. And now give me a cup of water and let me be away, a cup of water no more. Oh, do not be afraid for me or melt too much lest I should melt also. I have an escort wading over Yonder Hill. There, thank you for your water. Makomasan and good night. Doubtless we shall meet again ere long, and, I forgot, the little wise one said he would like to have a talk with you. Good night, Makomasan. Good night. I trust that you did a profitable trade with Umbezi, my father, and Masapo, my husband. Think it over, Makomasan, and tell me when next we meet. Give me that pretty mirror, Makomasan. When I look at it, I shall see you as well as myself. And that will please me. You don't know how much. I thank you. Good night. In another minute I was watching her solitary little figure now wrapped again in the hooded karos as it vanished over the brow of the rise behind us. And really, as she went, I felt a lump rising in my throat, notwithstanding all her wickedness, and I suppose she was wicked. There was something horribly attractive about Mamina. When she had gone, taking my only looking glass with her and the lump in my throat had gone also, I began to wonder how much fact there was to her story. She had protested so earnestly that she told me all the truth that I felt sure that there must be something left behind. Also, I remember that she had said Zikali wanted to see me. Well, the end of it was I took a moonlight walk up that dreadful gorge into which not even Skal would accompany me, because he declared that the place was well known to be haunted by Imikuvu, or Specters, who have been raised from the dead by wizards. It was a long and disagreeable walk, and somehow I felt very depressed and insignificant as I trudged on between those gigantic cliffs, passing now through patches of bright moonlight, and now through deep pools of shadow, threading my way among clumps of bush or round the bases of tall pillars of piled-up stones till at length I came to the overhanging cliffs at the end which frowned down on me like the brows of some titanic demon. Well, I got to the end at last, and at the gate of the crawl fence was met by one of those fierce and huge men who served the Dwarf as guards. Suddenly he emerged from behind a stone and having scanned me for a moment in silence beckoned me to follow him, as though I were expected. A minute later I found myself face to face with Zikali, who was seated in the clear moonlight just outside the shadow of his hut and engaged, apparently in his favorite occupation of carving wood with a rough native knife of curious shape. For a while he took no notice of me, then suddenly looked up, shaking back his braided gray locks and broke into one of his great laughs. So it is you, Makomasan! he said. Well, I knew you were passing my way and that Mamina would send you here. But why do you come to see the thing that should not have been born? To tell me how you fared with the buffalo and the split horn, eh? No, Zikali, for why should I tell you what you know already? Mamina said you wish to talk with me. That was all. Then Mamina lied, he answered, as is her nature, in whose throat live four false words every one of the truth. Stale, sit down, Makomasan! There is beer made ready for you by that stool, and give me the knife and a pinch of the white man's snuff that you have brought for me as a present. I produced these articles, though how he knew I had them with me, I cannot tell. Nor did I think it worth while to inquire. The snuff I remember pleased him very much, but the knife he said that it was a pretty toy, but he would not know how to use it. Then we fell to talking. What was Mamina doing here? I asked boldly. What was she doing at your wagons? Oh, do not stop to tell me, I know, I know, that is a very good snake of yours, Makomasan, which always just lets you slip through her fingers when, if she chose to close her hand, well, well, I do not betray the secrets of my clients. But I say this to you. Go on to the crown of the sun of Zanzangakona, and you will see things happen that will make you laugh. For Mamina will be there, and the mongrel must stop over her husband. Truly she hates him well, and after all I would rather be loved than hated by Mamina, though both are dangerous. For, mongrel, soon Jackals will be chewing his bones. Why do you say that? I asked. Only because Mamina tells me that he is a great wizard, and the Jackals eat many wizards in Zululand. Also he is an enemy of Pandas' house, is he not? You have been giving her some bad counsel, Zikali, I said, blurting out the thought in my mind. Perhaps, perhaps, Makomasan, only I may call it good counsel. I have my own road to walk, and if I can find some clear way in the thorns that would prick my feet, what of it? Also she will get her pay, who finds life dull up there among the Amasomi, with one she hates for a hut fellow. Go you and watch, and afterwards, when you have an hour to spare, come and tell me what happens. That is, if I do not chance to be there, to see for myself. Is Suduko well? I asked to change the subject, for I did not wish to become privy to the plots that filled the air. I am told that his tree grows great. That it overshadows all the royal crown. I think that Mamina wishes to sleep in the shade of it. And now you are weary, and so am I. Go back to your wagons, Makomasan, for I have nothing more to say to you tonight. But be sure to return and tell me what chances at Pandas' crown, or, as I have said, perhaps I shall meet you there. Who knows? Who knows? Now it will be observed that there was nothing very remarkable in this conversation between Zikali and myself. He did not tell me any deep secrets or make any great prophecy. It may be wondered, indeed, when there is so much to record, why I set it down at all. My answer is, because of the extraordinary impression that it produced upon me, although so little was said I felt all the while that those few words were avail hiding terrible events to be. I was sure that some dreadful scheme had been hatched between the old dwarf and Mamina, whereof the issue would soon become apparent. And that he had sent me away in a hurry after he learned that she had told me nothing. Because he feared lest I should stumble on its cue and perhaps cause it to fail. At any rate, as I walked back to my wagons by moonlight down that dreadful gorge, the hot, thick air seemed to have a physical taste and smell of blood. And the dank foliage of the tropical trees that grew there, when now and again a puff of wind stirred them moaned like the fabled Imikovu, or as man might do in their last faint agony. The effect upon my nerves was quite strange, for when at last I reached my wagons I was shaking like a reed and a cold perspiration unnatural enough upon that hot night poured from my face and body. Well, I took a couple of stiff tots of square face to pull myself together, and at length went to sleep. To awake before dawn with a attic. Looking out of the wagon to my surprise I saw Scowl and the hunters, who should have been snoring, standing in a group and talking to each other in frightened whispers. I called Scowl to me and asked what was the matter. Nothing, boss, he said with a shame-faced air. Only there are so many spooks about this place. They have been passing in and out of it all night. Spooks, you idiot, I answered. Probably they were people going to visit the Nayanga Zikali. Perhaps, boss, only then we do not know why they should look all like dead people, princes some of them by their dress, and walk upon the air a man's height from the ground. I replied, Do you not know the difference between owls and the midst of dead kings? Make ready, for we truck at once, the air here is full of fever. Set in, eh, boss? he said, springing off to obey. And I do not think I ever remember two wagons being got under way quicker than they were that morning. I merely mentioned this nonsense to show that the black cloof could affect other people's nerves as well as my own. In due course I reached Nadwangu without incident, having sent forward one of my hunters to report my approach to Panda. When my wagons arrived outside the great place, they were met by none other than my old friend Maputa. He who had brought me back the pills before our attack upon Bangu. I am sent by the king to say that you are welcome and to point you out a good place to outspan, also to give you permission to trade as much as you will in this town, since he knows that your dealings are always fair. I returned my thanks in a usual fashion, adding that I had brought a little present for the king which I would deliver when it pleased him to receive me. Then I invited Maputa, to whom I also offered some trifle which delighted him very much to ride with me on the wagon box till we came to the selected outspan. This, by the way, proved to be a very good place indeed, a little valley full of grass for the cattle, for by the king's order it had not been grazed, with a stream of beautiful water running down it. Moreover it overlooked a great open space immediately in front of the main gate of the town, so that I could see everything that went on and all who arrived or departed. You will be comfortable here, Makomasan, said Maputa, during your stay which we hope will be long since, although there will soon be mighty crowd at Nunwengu, the king has given orders that none except your own servants are to enter this valley. I thank the king, but why will there be a crowd, Maputa? Oh! he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. Because of a new thing, all the tribes of the Zulus are come up to be reviewed. Some say that Setawayo has brought this about, and some say that it is Zumbalazi. But I am sure that it is the work of neither of these. But of Saduko, your old friend. Though what his object is, I cannot tell you. I only trust, yet it uneasily, that it will not end in bloodshed between the great brothers. So Saduko has grown tall, Maputa. Tall as a tree, Makomasan, his whisper in the king's ear is louder than the shouts of others. Moreover, he has become a self-eater, that is a Zulu term which means one who is very haughty. You will have to wait on him, Makomasan. He will not wait on you. Is it so? I answered. Well, tall trees are blown down sometimes. He nodded his wise old head. Yes, Makomasan, I have seen plenty grow and fall in my time. For at last the swimmer goes with the stream. Anyhow, you will be able to do a good trade among so many and whatever happens none will harm you whom all love. And now, farewell, I bear your message to the king who sends an ox for you to kill lest you should grow hungry in his house. That same evening I saw Saduko and the others, as I shall tell. I had been up to visit the king and gave him my present, a case of English table knives with bone handles. Which pleased him greatly, although he did not, in the least, know how to use them. Indeed, without their accompanying forks, these are somewhat futile articles. I found the old fellow very tired and anxious, but as he was surrounded by Indunas, I had no private talk with him. Seeing that he was busy I took my leave as soon as I could, and when I walked away whom should I meet but Saduko. I saw him, while he was a good way off, advancing towards the inner gate with a train of attendance like a royal personage, and knew very well that he saw me. Making up my mind to do it once, I walked straight on to him, forcing him to give me the path which he did not wish to do before so many people and brushed past him as though he were a stranger. As I expected, this treatment had the desired effect, for after we had passed each other he turned and said, Do you not know me, Makumazan? Who calls? I asked. Why, friend, your face is familiar to me. How are you named? Have you forgotten Saduko? he said in a pain voice. No, no, of course not, I answered. I know you now, although you seem somewhat changed since we went out hunting and fighting together. I suppose because you are a fatter. I trust that you are well, Saduko. Goodbye, I must be going back to my wagons. If you wish to see me, you will find me there. These remarks, I may add, seem to take Saduko very much aback. At any rate, he found nobody plied to them, even when old Maputa, with whom I was walking and some others sniggered aloud, there was nothing that Zulu's enjoys so much as seeing one whom they consider an upstart, said in his place. Well, a couple of hours afterwards, just as the sun was sinking, who should walk up to my wagons but Saduko himself, accompanied by a woman whom I recognized at once as his wife, the Princess Nandi, who carried a fine baby boy in her arms. Rising I saluted Nandi and offered her my campstool, which she looked at suspiciously and declined, preferring to seat herself on the ground after the native fashion. So I took it back again, and, after I had sat down on it, not before, stretched out my hand to Saduko, who by this time was quite humbled and polite. Well, he talked away, and by degrees without seeming too much interested in them, I was furnished with a list of all the advancements which had pleased Banda to heap upon Saduko during the past year. In their way they were remarkable enough, for it was much as though some penniless country gentleman in England had been promoted in that short space of time to be one of the premier peers of the kingdom and endowed with great offices and estates. When he had finished the count of them he paused, evidently waiting for me to congratulate him. But all I said was, By the heavens above I am sorry for you, Saduko. How many enemies you must have made! What a long way there will be for you to fall one night! A remark at which the quiet Nandi broke into a low laugh, and I think pleased her husband even less than my sarcasm. Well, I went on. I see that you have got a baby, which is much better than all these titles. May I look at it in kusasana? Of course she was delighted, and we proceeded to inspect the baby, which evidently she loved more than anything on earth, whilst we were examining the child and chatting about it Saduko sitting by, meanwhile, in the sulks. Who on earth should appear but Mamina and her fat, sullen-looking husband, the chief Masapo? Oh, Makuma-san! she said, appearing to notice no one else. How pleased I am to see you after a whole long year! I stared at her, and my jaw dropped. Then I recovered myself, thinking she must have made a mistake and meant to say, weak. Twelve moons! she went on, and Makuma-san, not one of them, has gone by, but I have thought of you several times, and wondered if we should ever meet again. Where have you been all this while? In many places, I answered, amongst others at the Black Clouffe, where I called upon the Dwarf Zikali and lost my looking glass. The Nyanga Zikali! Oh, how often I have wished to see him, but of course I cannot, for I am told he will not receive any women. I don't know, I am sure, I replied, but you might try, perhaps he would make an exception in your favor. I think I will, Makuma-san! she murmured, whereon I collapsed in the silence, feeling that things were getting beyond me. When I recovered myself a little was to hear Mamina greeting Suduko with much effusion and complimenting him on his rise in life, which he said she had always foreseen. This remark seemed a bowl out Suduko also, for he made no answer to it, although I noticed that he could not take his eyes off Mamina's beautiful face. Presently, however, he seemed to become aware of Masapo, and instantly his whole demeanor changed, for it grew proud and even terrible. Masapo tendered him some greeting, whereon Suduko turned upon him and said, What, chief of the Amasomi, do you give the good day to a umfokazana and a mainji haina? Why do you do this? Is it because the low umfokazama has been noble and the mainji haina is put on a tiger's coat? And he glared at him like a veritable tiger. Masapo made no answer that I could catch, muttering some inaudible words he turned to depart, and in doing so, quite innocently I think, struck Nandi knocking her over onto her back and causing the child to fall out of her arms in such fashion that its tender head struck against a pebble with sufficient force to cause it to bleed. Suduko leapt at him, smiting him across the shoulders with the little stick that he carried. For a moment Masapo paused, and I thought that he was going to show fight. If he had any such intention, however, he changed his mind for without a word or showing any resentment at the insult which he had received, he broke into a heavy run and vanished among the evening shadows. Mamina, who had observed all, broke into something else. Namely, a laugh. My husband isn't big yet not brave, she said, but I do not think he meant to hurt you, woman. Do you speak to me, wife of Masapo? asked Nandi with a gentle dignity as she gained her feet and picked up the stunned child. If so, my name and titles are the Inko Sasana Nandi, daughter of the black one and wife of the Lord Suduko. You are pardoned, replied Mamina humbly, for she was cowed at once. I did not know who you were, Inko Sasana. It is granted, wife of Masapo. Makumazan, give me water, I pray you, that I may bathe the head of my child. The water was brought, and presently, when the little one seemed all right again, for it had only received a scratch. Nandi thanked me and departed to her own hut, saying with a smile to her husband as she passed that there was no need for him to accompany her, as she had servants waiting at the crawl gate. So Suduko stayed behind, and Mamina stayed also. He talked with me for quite a long while, for he had much to tell me, although all the time I felt his heart was not in his talk. His heart was with Mamina, who sat there and smiled continuously in her mysterious way, only putting in a word now and again as though to excuse her presence. At length she rose and said with a sigh that she must be going back to where the Amasomi were in camp, as Masapo would need her to see to his food. By now it was quite dark, although I remember that from time to time the sky was lit up by sheet lightning, for a storm was brewing, as I expected Suduko rose also, saying that he would see me on the morrow, and went away with Mamina, walking like one who dreams. A few minutes later I had occasion to leave the wagons in order to inspect one of the oxen which was tied up by itself at a distance, because it had shown signs of some sickness that might or might not be catching. Moving quietly, as I always do from a hunter's habit, I walked alone to the place where the beast was tethered behind some mimosa thorns. Just as I reached these thorns the broad lightning shone out vividly and showed me Suduko, holding the unresisting shape of Mamina in his arms, and kissing her passionately. Then I turned and went back to the wagons even more quietly than I had come. I should add that on the morrow I found out that after all there was nothing serious to matter with my ox.