My father, it was the face of Nada, my daughter, whom I had not seen for so many years, yet across the years I knew it at once; yes, though the bud had become a flower I knew it. The face was weary and worn, but ah! it was beautiful, never before nor since have I seen such beauty, for there was this about the loveliness of my daughter, the Lily: it seemed to flow from within—yes, as light will flow through the thin rind of a gourd, and in that she differed from the other women of our people, who, when they are fair are fair with the flesh alone.
Now my heart went out to Nada as she stood in the moonlight, one forsaken, not having where to lay her head, Nada, who alone was left alive of all my children. I motioned to Umslopogaas to hide himself in the shadow, and stepped forward.
“Ho!” I said roughly, “who are you, wanderer, and what do you here?”
Now Nada started like a frightened bird, but quickly gathered up her thoughts, and turned upon me in a lordly way.
“Who are you that ask me?” she said, feigning a man’s voice.
“One who can use a stick upon thieves and night-prowlers, boy. Come, show your business or be moving. You are not of this people; surely that moocha is of a Swazi make, and here we do not love Swazis.”
“Were you not old, I would beat you for your insolence,” said Nada, striving to look brave and all the while searching a way to escape. “Also, I have no stick, only a spear, and that is for warriors, not for an old umfagozan like you.” Ay, my father, I lived to hear my daughter name me an umfagozan—a low fellow!
Now making pretence to be angry, I leaped at her with my kerrie up, and, forgetting her courage, she dropped her spear, and uttered a little scream. But she still held the shield before her face. I seized her by the arm, and struck a blow upon the shield with my kerrie—it would scarcely have crushed a fly, but this brave warrior trembled sorely.
“Where now is your valour, you who name me umfagozan?” I said: “you who cry like a maid and whose arm is soft as a maid’s.”
She made no answer, but hugged her tattered blanket round her, and shifting my grip from her arm, I seized it and rent it, showing her breast and shoulder; then I let her go, laughing, and said:—