“Who are these that dare to stir up dust at the gates of my kraal?” he asked, frowning.
“O Chaka, O Elephant!” answered the captain of the soldiers, bending himself double before him, “the men say that these are evildoers and that they pursue them to kill them.”
“Good!” he answered. “Let them slay the evildoers.”
“O great chief! thanks be to thee, great chief!” said those men of my people who sought to kill us.
“I hear you,” he answered, then spoke once more to the captain. “And when they have slain the evildoers, let themselves be blinded and turned loose to seek their way home, because they have dared to lift a spear within the Zulu gates. Now praise on, my children!” And he laughed, while the soldiers murmured, “Ou! he is wise, he is great, his justice is bright and terrible like the sun!”
But the two men of my people cried out in fear, for they did not seek such justice as this.
“Cut out their tongues also,” said Chaka. “What? shall the land of the Zulus suffer such a noise? Never! lest the cattle miscarry. To it, ye black ones! There lies the girl. She is asleep and helpless. Kill her! What? you hesitate? Nay, then, if you will have time for thought, I give it. Take these men, smear them with honey, and pin them over ant-heaps; by to-morrow’s sun they will know their own minds. But first kill these two hunted jackals,” and he pointed to Baleka and myself. “They seem tired and doubtless they long for sleep.”
Then for the first time I spoke, for the soldiers drew near to slay us.
“O Chaka,” I cried, “I am Mopo, and this is my sister Baleka.”
I stopped, and a great shout of laughter went up from all who stood round.