Nada the Lily

by H. Rider Haggard

“New shields and headdresses must be found for you, my children,” said Dingaan, for the shields were black and shrivelled, and of heads of hair and plumes there were but few left among that regiment.

“Wow!” said Dingaan again, looking at the soldiers who still lived: “shaving will be easy and cheap in that place of fire of which the white man speaks.”

Then he ordered beer to be brought to the men, for the heat had made them thirsty.

Now though you may not guess it, my father, I have told you this tale because it has something to do with my story; for scarcely had the matter been ended when messengers came, saying that Bulalio, chief of the People of the Axe, and his impi were without, having returned with much spoil from the slaying of the Halakazi in Swaziland. Now when I heard this my heart leapt for joy, seeing that I had feared greatly for the fate of Umslopogaas, my fosterling. Dingaan also was very glad, and, springing up, danced to and fro like a child.

“Now at last we have good tidings,” he said, at once forgetting the stamping of the fire, “and now shall my eyes behold that Lily whom my hand has longed to pluck. Let Bulalio and his people enter swiftly.”

For awhile there was silence; then from far away, without the high fence of the great place, there came a sound of singing, and through the gates of the kraal rushed two great men, wearing black plumes upon their heads, having black shields in their left hands, and in their right, one an axe and one a club; while about their shoulders were bound wolf-skins. They ran low, neck and neck, with outstretched shields and heads held forward, as a buck runs when he is hard pressed by dogs, and no such running had been seen in the kraal Umgugundhlovu as the running of the Wolf-Brethren. Half across the space they ran, and halted suddenly, and, as they halted, the dead ashes of the fire flew up before their feet in a little cloud.

“By my head! look, these come armed before me!” said Dingaan, frowning, “and to do this is death. Now say who is that man, great and fierce, who bears an axe aloft? Did I not know him dead I should say it was the Black One, my brother, as he was in the days of the smiting of Zwide: so was his head set on his shoulders and so he was wont to look round, like a lion.”

“I think that is Bulalio the Slaughterer, chief of the People of the Axe, O King,” I answered.

“And who is the other with him? He is a great man also. Never have I seen such a pair!”

“I think that is Galazi the Wolf, he who is blood-brother to the Slaughterer, and his general,” I said again.