"'Well, I refuse to go,' came the answer.
"The King was then seized by soldiers and put upon a litter and thus carried with his wives to a waggon which was awaiting."
Selous was much interested in this story, and then told us the following interesting tale which I never heard him repeat before or later. It has always been a puzzle to me how he knew Cetawayo, for after many enquiries amongst his family and friends I have been unable to learn when he visited Zululand, for otherwise he could not have known the Zulu king. Yet the fact remains that he distinctly said on this occasion that he had met the black monarch in some of his past wanderings.
"I had known Cetawayo formerly, and when he was confined in Robben Island shortly after the conclusion of the war, I thought I would go down one day when I was in Cape Town and have a chat with him. I found him much as I had known him, but more corpulent and somewhat depressed. After some general conversation I said:
"'Well, Cetawayo, what do you think of John Dunn now?'
"This I knew was a sore point with the king, for he had treated John Dunn like a brother and given him wives, slaves and lands as one of his own head indunas. Dunn had afterwards deserted him and given all his help and information to Sir Garnet Wolseley.
"Cetawayo thought deeply for a few moments, and then said, 'One very cold and stormy night in winter I was seated before a large fire in my hut when there was a noise without as if someone was arriving. I asked the cause from my attendants, and they told me a white man in a miserable state of destitution had just arrived and claimed my hospitality. I ordered the slaves to bring him in, and a tall splendidly made man appeared. He was dressed in rags, for his clothes had been torn to pieces in fighting through the bush, and he was shivering from fever and ague. I drew my cloak aside and asked him to sit by the fire, and told the servants to bring food and clothing. I loved this white man as a brother and made him one of my head indunas, giving him lands and wives, the daughters of my chiefs. Now Shaunele (the sun has gone down), and John Dunn is sitting by the fire but he does not draw his cloak aside.'"
Such is the black man's reasoning, and can we controvert it with uplifted heads?
After the Zulu war McLeod asked some of the chiefs why they went to war with us. They replied, "The Right of the Strong. Now you have proved you are the strongest we will look up to you and follow you." Except for one trifling insurrection under Denizulu, which was quickly nipped in the bud, the Zulus have since accepted our suzerainty.
The following example of the intellect and common-sense of the South African native is given to me by McLeod of McLeod, who was in charge of the Swazis both in the Zulu war and the subsequent attack on Sekukuni, the paramount chief of Basutoland.