The izimbonga raised a chorus of praise, and the frightened company of my people, seeing that only five of their number were to suffer, joined in. And now, bending low before the King, I craved a boon.
“The wisdom of the King is great, and his justice is terrible,” I said. “But these, it is for these I would speak,” pointing to my younger wives.
“Say on, Untúswa,” said the King.
“Not for me is it to question the will of the Great Great One. But I would ask, Father, that these might be spared, at any rate, for a few days longer. It may yet be that Kwelanga is found, and then, my Father, what will she do, finding that those who took care of her are no more?”
“Strange care have they taken of her, Untúswa,” replied Umzilikazi. “Hold! Whom have we here?”
For over the plain a great multitude was advancing. As it drew nearer, we could make out that at some paces in front of it walked a woman. That she was tall and straight, and beautiful of build, we could see even from there. Nearer—nearer, she drew; advancing direct to where was seated the Great Great One. In silence the people parted to make way for her, and, not hesitating a moment, she paced up to the King, her head thrown slightly back, proud, stately of bearing, as though she were a queen. Then, halting, she bent down, yet not very low, and cried, “Bayéte!” And we who looked thought we had never beheld so fair and gracious a type of womanhood; while I, for my part—Whau Nkose! it seemed as though the end of all things was at hand, for she upon whom I now gazed—upon whom we all gazed—standing there before the King, was none other than Lalusini, the beautiful sorceress who had bewitched me with her love.