“‘He is mad!—quite mad!’ burst from the indunas. But the King smiled, and a new and strange look came into his face, yet from it I augured nothing. ‘I think thou hast done even a bolder thing, son of Ntelani,’ he said, ‘and that is to claim the fulfilment of my promise on such a ground. Surely no bolder act was ever heard tell of.’
“And now men found speech and cried aloud in praise of the wisdom of the King—of the truth of his words. Then he went on:
“‘My promise shall be kept,’ he said slowly, but with a dark and terrible meaning; ‘the latter part of it first. Thou shalt have this broad umkonto,’ twirling the great assegai in his hand till it flashed—a band of fire. ‘Oh yes, Untúswa! the “word” of the King stands. Thou shalt have what I promised thee. Prepare, then, to receive thy reward.’
“Then, in my joy, I shouted out the praises of the King, who had changed the doom of eternal degradation he had pronounced upon me to that of death. But a grand and noble death would be mine, that of the spear; yet not that only, for I was to die by the spear of the King—to die by the King’s own hand, for none other might wield the royal weapon for such a purpose. Yet, while I praised, no bonga arose from the multitude. All voices were hushed in expectation.
“Umzilikazi rose and advanced towards me. As he stood facing me, with the bright and gleaming spear uplifted, I looked him straight in the eyes—alone and about to taste death. And then it seemed that this situation was familiar to me—a man standing among men and an assegai descending to his chest. Ha! the third vision of the wizard’s múti! Then I knew not—now I knew who held the spear. Still, I flinched not, though the eyes of the King were terrible in their wrath. ‘Take the reward I promised thee!’ he said.
“‘I welcome death at the hand of the King, the Great Great One!’ I answered, gazing at the uplifted spear.
“Down it swept—down like a flash of light—down to my breast which was thrust forward to receive it. But it did not enter. It halted—motionless but for a slight quiver—within a hand’s-breadth of my heart. Still, my eyes left not those of the King, and for a moment thus we stood. Then Umzilikazi spoke:
“‘Once more I grant thee thy life, Untúswa, son of Ntelani, for I think thou art the bravest warrior that ever lived, and fearest death in its cold form no more than in the heat and shock of battle. And I love such. Yet, but for my promise, thou wert already dead. The King’s assegai is thine. Take it.’
“Then it was that my self-command was sorely tried. I was not to die, but to receive honour, for I held in my hand the King’s royal weapon. But my mind had gone through so much that it was hardened—cool and cutting even as the blade of the splendid spear; wherefore I laid the weapon softly down, for I might not address the King armed; and raising both hands aloft, I poured forth words of bonga, such as had surely never been heard before. And the whole nation joined in, and, indeed, even in the far mountains the foul Izímu and such abatagati must have quaked in their dens, for even thither must have reached the vast roaring chorus of the praises of the King.