“Ingona, trusted friend and counsellor of the king, induna of the Makolosi regiment, the very flower and backbone of my army, you have heard the tale told by Sekosini. Say now, is that tale false, or is it true?”
Ingona, a war-scarred veteran of perhaps fifty years of age, tall, straight as a spear shaft, and of commanding presence, rose to his feet and answered in a clear, deep voice:
“It is true, O Mighty One! true in every detail.”
“It is true,” repeated the king, in a tone of deep sorrow; “yes, unhappily there is no room to doubt it; every word carried conviction of its truthfulness to my mind. It is true; and the meaning of that is that the chiefs of the Makolo are divided into two factions, one of which would leave the government of the nation in my hands, while the other would entrust it to—whom?”
“Nay, O Great One! who can say? We had not agreed as to that,” answered Ingona.
“Then—after my death—how was the matter to have been decided?” demanded the king.
“Who can say?” again answered Ingona. “We should probably have fought it out, and the victor would have seized the throne.”
“And ye would have set the Makolo at each other’s throats for—what?” demanded Lobelalatutu.
“Truly, I know not,” answered Ingona, “unless it were to satisfy the ambition of Sekosini. He has already confessed that he was the originator of the conspiracy, and therein he spoke no more than the truth. He is guileful as a snake; he has the gift of persuasive speech, and knowing that some of us were chafing under prolonged inaction, he used his cunning and the power of his tongue to stir our discontent into indignation, and finally into hatred and a fierce determination to effect a change. By the power of his magic he turned our hearts from thee, O Great One! and made us long, even as he did, for a return of such days as those when M’Bongwele reigned, when we were ever at war, when our young men became warriors instead of husbandmen, and when we enriched ourselves with the spoils of the vanquished. It was a dazzling dream that he brought before our eyes, and for a time it blinded me to the evils that lay behind it, and it is only now, when it is too late, that I perceive that evil, and understand that Sekosini befooled and bewitched me to the end that he might be raised to such power as M’Pusa enjoyed during the reign of M’Bongwele, when he and not M’Bongwele actually ruled the Makolo people. It is enough; I have said!”
“Take him away to his hut; set a guard over him; and see that he escape not,” ordered the king. “If he be not forthcoming when wanted, the officer and guard who have him in charge shall be crucified. Lambati, you too are implicated in this conspiracy. Have you aught to say in your defence?”