“So, Untúswa,” he said, “when the doings of one king do not please thee thou wouldst konza to another?”
“That is not quite it, Great Great One,” I ventured. “I am a fighting man, a man of deeds rather than of words. I was but a boy when I fled with Umzilikazi, and ever since then has my spear been raised to strike down his enemies, and now he has sorely broken faith with me. I would sooner die than serve such.”
“Hau! This is of the sort who would make their kings at their own will,” growled Tambusa to himself; but I heard him.
“I know not which way to take with thee, Untúswa,” said Dingane, doubtfully. “I know not, indeed, whether to trust thee.”
“There are but two ways, Elephant. One is to make thyself master of this new nation, easily and with but little loss. The other way is not to do so, O Father of the Wise!”
“There is yet another way, Untúswa, Father of the Fools,” said the King, softly sneering, “and that is the Hill of Slaughter for thee, rebel and traitor to two kings.”
“My life is in the hand of the Lion of Zulu, for I myself have placed it there,” I said. “Now, father, should I have placed it there had I not known it was of more value to this nation than to me?”
“Bold words,” said Dingane, still frowning.
“Bold deeds are more to my taste, Great Great One,” I said. “The fate of the new nation in the North is in my hand. But if I die, it will never lie beneath the paw of the Lion of Zulu.”
The izinduna were staring in amazement at the boldness of my words; but the frown had left the brows of Dingane. Looking straight at me, he said softly: