All this while I had spoken to Umslopogaas in a feigned voice, my father, but now I spoke again and in my own voice, saying:—
“So! Now you speak from your heart, young man, and by digging I have reached the root of the matter. It is because of this dead dog of a Mopo that you defy the king.”
Umslopogaas heard the voice, and trembled no more with anger, but rather with fear and wonder. He looked at me hard, answering nothing.
“Have you a hut near by, O Chief Bulalio, foe of Dingaan the king, where I, the mouth of the king, may speak with you a while apart, for I would learn your message word by word that I may deliver it without fault. Fear not, Slaughterer, to sit alone with me in an empty hut! I am unarmed and old, and there is that in your hand which I should fear,” and I pointed to the axe.
Now Umslopogaas, still shaking in his limbs, answered “Follow me, O Mouth, and you, Galazi, stay with these men.”
So I followed Umslopogaas, and presently we came to a large hut. He pointed to the doorway, and I crept through it and he followed after me. Now for a while it seemed dark in the hut, for the sun was sinking without and the place was full of shadow; so I waited while a man might count fifty, till our eyes could search the darkness. Then of a sudden I threw the blanket from my face and looked into the eyes of Umslopogaas.
“Look on me now, O Chief Bulalio, O Slaughterer, who once was named Umslopogaas—look on me and say who am I?” Then he looked at me and his jaw fell.
“Either you are Mopo my father grown old—Mopo, who is dead, or the Ghost of Mopo,” he answered in a low voice.
“I am Mopo, your father, Umslopogaas,” I said. “You have been long in knowing me, who knew you from the first.”
Then Umslopogaas cried aloud, but yet softly, and letting fall the axe Groan-Maker, he flung himself upon my breast and wept there. And I wept also.