“The King seated himself upon a carved block of wood which was covered with a leopard’s skin, I taking up my position behind him, holding the white shield. On either side were ranged the young men of the royal body-guard, fully armed. Then he gave orders that the defaulting sentinel should be brought before him.
“In the midst of four warriors of his own regiment, unarmed, of course, but not bound, the man drew near. He was a young man, tall and strong, and a feeling of profound pity was in the hearts of all; for, fine warrior as he was, all knew he was doomed. His offence was one which the King could not pardon. He did obeisance, uttering one word, ‘Baba!’ (Father!) But as he rose one look at his face, which, though sad, was full of the dignity of fearlessness, caused my heart to stand still—for I recognised my brother, Sekweni. I had doomed to death my own father’s son. Then the Great Great One spoke:
“‘When a soldier of the King is set to guard the safety of the King, he has eyes to see with and ears to hear with. He has weapons to fight with, and strength wherewith to use them. Yet all these are of no use to him, since, being in full possession of them all, the King’s sentinel is found at his post tied up, and gagged, and useless as a wooden log.’
“Umzilikazi paused a moment, looking the young warrior full in the face with a bitter and scornful expression. Then, in that quiet and stinging tone, which he adopted when in the most terrible of his moods, he went on:
“‘When a soldier of the King allows himself to be turned into a log for one night, is it not meet that he should be turned into one for ever? Now a log has no eyes to see with and no ears to hear with; it has no hands, no arms, no legs.’
“Then, Nkose, it seemed to me that I had come to the end of my life. Here was I obliged to stand by while my own father’s son was put to a most hideous and disgraceful death, through my means, and keep silence. I was on the point of speaking, of proclaiming myself the offender, when, from my position behind the King, I caught sight of Nangeza standing among the women, so tall and stately and splendid, and the recollection that if I spoke the lives of two would be taken instead of the life of one came back to me. Nay, further, I remembered that though Nangeza and myself would certainly be adjudged to die the death, the King would, not any the more on that account spare the life of my brother, Sekweni, whose offence was an unpardonable one.
“‘A sentinel who is surprised and overpowered at his post is clearly of no use at all,’ went on the King. ‘We do not keep anything that is of no use, not even a dog. What hast thou to say, son of Ntelani?’
“‘This, O Black Elephant,’ answered my brother. ‘I was bewitched!’
“‘Ha! that is not much of a story,’ said the King; ‘though a stout hide thong may bind about a man a powerful spell. Yet, tell thy tale.’
“‘The spell was a female spell, O King!’ replied my brother. And then he went on to tell how his seizure and binding had been done by feminine hands. The forms of those who had thus made him captive were the forms of women, and most perfectly moulded women, he declared. Of this he had been assured during the struggle, and the spells they had woven round him had rendered him powerless. Was not this ample proof that he had been bewitched? since what living woman would undertake to overpower and bind one of the King’s sentinels? Wizardry of the most dreaded kind was at work here.