“Yet I gave her into your keeping, son of Ntelani. There has been tagati herein, and some shall die.”
“The will of the Great Great One is the delight of his children,” I replied. “Lo—now here are they who must answer for this business.”
Now there came in sight across the plain the whole company of my people, surrounded by the spears of the warriors who custodied them. All, as they drew near, bent low before the King, shouting aloud the Bayéte, and on every face was stamped varying stages of fear and dread.
“Here has been tagati at work,” said the King, after eyeing them in silence for a few moments. “I think, Untúswa, the women it was who had the care of Kwelanga?”
“That is so, Black Elephant,” I answered.
“There are thy three wives and two Bakoni slave-girls—five in all,” went on the King. “Five women, and they are not able to custody one little child! Ha! If a woman is unable to do this, of what use is she? Not to give us the aid of her counsels in war,” with a frown at Nangeza. “Clearly these are of no use at all. Away with them! The alligators are hungry!”
But before the slayers could spring forward, my two younger wives flung themselves on the ground at the King’s feet.
“Spare us, father!” they wailed.
“She who is gone was more to me than my own children,” howled Fumana.
“Our own children will die of grief for loss of her,” groaned Nxope.