“Is that all?” asked Safeni, who had been listening breathlessly to the story.
“That is all,” replied Katembo.
“Why, what kind of a story is this, that finishes in that way?”
“It is not mine,” answered Katembo. “The telling of it has been according to the words I heard, and it is not good to alter a tale.”
“Then what is the object of such a story?” demanded Safeni, in an irritable tone.
“Why, to warn people from following their inclinations. Did not the girl find her father? Did not her father welcome her, and pardon the mother for very joy? Was not her own choice of a husband found for her? Was not the young chief fortunate in possessing such a beautiful wife? Why should they have become discontented? Why not have stayed at home instead of wandering into strange lands of which they knew nothing? Did not the old woman warn them of what would happen, and point to them how they might live in peace once again? But it was all to no purpose. We never know the value of anything until we have lost it. Ruin follows the wilful always. They left their home and took to the river, the river was not still, but moved on, and as their heads were already full of their own thoughts, they could not keep advice. But Katembo has ended.”