“When I offer sacrifice, it is of a different kind, for it is offered to the Mighty Ruler of the world who dwells above the heavens. The sacrifice which the induna Untúswa beheld me offering amid the rocks in the forest was also to gain something—very especially to gain something.”
“And what was that?”
“The peace and welfare and happiness of the people who dwell in this land, and of the King who reigns over them.”
“Hau!” burst from all who heard these strange words. And for a space all sat gazing at this white man in silence, as he stood there in his black robe, which was torn and patched and soiled as with hard travel. His face was as the face of a good man, and in height he was not quite so tall as our warriors. Now he stood there looking round upon us all with the eyes of a friend.
“Thy words are good, white stranger,” said the King. “But there is one thing that sounds strange to our ears, and that is that thou shouldst seek to gain us peace. For we are a nation of warriors, and what have such to do with peace? Would they not speedily be eaten up, even as these miserable peoples whom we have swept from our path? No; peace is not a thing to desire for such as we.”
We who heard greeted the King’s words with a shout of assent—I, especially, gripping my hand, as though I held the great Assegai, the royal gift.
“Yet peace is good,” said the white isanusi, speaking pleasantly. “Under its shadow nations prosper and grow great.”
“Atyi! were ever such words heard!” we cried, shaking our heads. “Grow great beneath the shadow of peace! Ca-bo—Ca-bo!” And we laughed scornfully.
“I think thy words please not the ears of my children, white stranger,” said the King, with a grim smile. “It is war by which nations grow great—not peace—war, wherein they destroy all their enemies. The nation which does this is the greatest nation; and such is ours.”
“All their enemies?” repeated the white man softly, with head slightly on one side and his eyes fixed upon those of the Great Great One.