“What is the meaning of this, O King’s soldiers?” asked Umgona in a quavering voice. “We journey to the kraal of U’Cetywayo; why do you molest us?”
“Indeed. Wherefore then are your faces set towards the south? Does the Black One live in the south? Well, you will journey to another kraal presently,” answered the jovial-looking captain of the party with a callous laugh.
“I do not understand,” stammered Umgona.
“Then I will explain while you rest,” said the captain. “The Chief Maputa yonder sent word to the Black One at Ulundi that he had learned of your intended flight to Natal from the lips of this white man, who had warned him of it. The Black One was angry, and despatched us to catch you and make an end of you. That is all. Come on now, quietly, and let us finish the matter. As the Doom Pool is near, your deaths will be easy.”
Nahoon heard the words, and sprang straight at the throat of Hadden; but he did not reach it, for the soldiers pulled him down. Nanea heard them also, and turning, looked the traitor in the eyes; she said nothing, she only looked, but he could never forget that look. The white man for his part was filled with a fiery indignation against Maputa.
“You wicked villain,” he gasped, whereat the chief smiled in a sickly fashion, and turned away.
Then they were marched along the banks of the stream till they reached the waterfall that fell into the Pool of Doom.
Hadden was a brave man after his fashion, but his heart quailed as he gazed into that abyss.
“Are you going to throw me in there?” he asked of the Zulu captain in a thick voice.
“You, White Man?” replied the soldier unconcernedly. “No, our orders are to take you to the king, but what he will do with you I do not know. There is to be war between your people and ours, so perhaps he means to pound you into medicine for the use of the witch-doctors, or to peg you over an ant-heap as a warning to other white men.”