Now Dingaan winced, for he knew well that he himself and one Mopo had stabbed the Black One, but he thought that this outland chief had not heard the tale, so he said no more of the message.
“How is it that ye dare to come before me armed? Know ye not the rule that he who appears armed before the king dies?”
“We have not heard that law, O King,” said Umslopogaas. “Moreover, there is this to be told: by virtue of the axe I bear I rule alone. If I am seen without the axe, then any man may take my place who can, for the axe is chieftainess of the People of the Axe, and he who holds it is its servant.”
“A strange custom,” said Dingaan, “but let it pass. And thou, Wolf, what hast thou to say of that great club of thine?”
“There is this to be told of the club, O King,” answered Galazi: “by virtue of the club I guard my life. If I am seen without the club, then may any man take my life who can, for the club is my Watcher, not I Watcher of the club.”
“Never wast thou nearer to the losing of both club and life,” said Dingaan, angrily.
“It may be so, O King,” answered the Wolf. “When the hour is, then, without a doubt, the Watcher shall cease from his watching.”
“Ye are a strange pair,” quoth Dingaan. “Where have you been now, and what is your business at the Place of the Elephant?”
“We have been in a far country, O King!” answered Umslopogaas. “We have wandered in a distant land to search for a Flower to be a gift to a king, and in our searching we have trampled down a Swazi garden, and yonder are some of those who tended it”—and he pointed to the captives—“and without are the cattle that ploughed it.”
“Good, Slaughterer! I see the gardeners, and I hear the lowing of the cattle, but what of the Flower? Where is this Flower ye went so far to dig in Swazi soil? Was it a Lily-bloom, perchance?”