“Ha! no evil lay behind that, son of Matyobane. Can two bulls of equal size dwell in one kraal? Yet Zululand is now just such a kraal, having two kings, Dingane and Mhlangana. Yet it should have but one.”
“Hau!” cried the King. “Should that one be Dingane?”
“Not Dingane should it be, Elephant of the Amandebeli,” she replied.
“Mhlangana, then?”
“Not Mhlangana, Great Great One in whom flows the blood of my mother.”
“Ha! Who, then, Queen of the Bakoni múti?”
“Umzilikazi, the son of Matyobane.”
“Ha!” broke from us both at the surpassing boldness of this declaration; and for some moments we sat staring in silence at this wonderful woman. Then the King took snuff, and, as he did so, I well knew what was passing in his mind. For, had but another regiment or two cleaved to us, what time the Amandebeli and we of the Umtetwa tribe, and others, fled from Zululand, no flight need we have made at all. We would have marched to Dukuza, and eaten up the whole usurping House of Senzangakona. Ofttimes had the King thus talked to me since; sorrowing even now, when it was too late, that the opportunity should have been allowed to pass. And now this woman—this sorceress of a strange tribe, yet claiming mighty descent—came thus to hold before Umzilikazi’s gaze a vision of such power as, even in the fulness of his might, the great Tshaka had never wielded. To combine the warrior strength of our nation with that of the parent stock of Zululand! Whau! there was a destiny! We should rule the world itself with such a power behind us. No wonder a strange light gleamed in the eyes of the King as they beheld such a vision.
“And how shall this be brought about, Lalusini?” he said; more to say something than because uncertain as to what her reply would be.
“What nation can konza to two kings?” she answered. “Sooner or later its choice must be made. One or both must fall. Then is the time for him who was born to be great.”