emed that her words
were those of wisdom, for I had known experience of the jealousy of
women. Yet I said:

"Thou wouldst ever have lived in great honour, Nomshasa, and have been
counted great among my wives."

"But not greatest--" she said, attempting to smile. "Yet hearken,
Untuswa, and be warned. Return not to Nkunkundhlovu, for death awaits
thee there. There is another great bull of the House of Senzangakona
who would fain roar in this kraal. Mpande would welcome such a fighter
as thee."

The dawn had now spread, and soon the sun would come forth from behind
the rim of the world. And now, in the full daylight, the terrible
injuries that poor Nomshasa had received, both from the torturers and
the teeth and claws of the beasts, looked so awful that every living
moment must be to her a moment of intense agony. She could not live.
She must have seen into my thoughts, for she said:

"It is time to give me rest, Untuswa. Yet return not to Dingane. They
who were appointed to slay me jeered me beneath their blows, saying that
before another sun or two set thy shade should join mine. Wherefore,
flee. And now--Strike!"

I looked at her, and my heart was heavy with pity and wrath. Then I
said:

"I will strike indeed, Nomshasa, for thy pain is too great. Yet let
this lighten it. When the day of my power comes, be assured that the
pangs of Tambusa and all who bore part in this matter shall be greater
than thine. Now--art thou ready?"

"I am. No death could I have preferred to death at thy hand, Untuswa.
Yet, hold my hand in thine unarmed one as the blow falls."

I turned her gently over upon her side, but she groaned with the agony
of it. Then with my left hand I held hers. For a moment I looked at
her. Her eyes were closed, and something like a smile was upon her
face. I raised my right arm aloft, then with one quick crashing blow
brought the heavy knob-stick down. It fell, fair--just where the base
of the skull joins the back of the neck. Her agony was over. No
shudder even ran through her, so completely, so suddenly had death
overtaken her.

Notwithstanding the warning of Nomshasa, I still took my way in the
direction of Nkunkundhlovu, for I thought I might perhaps gather from
those I should meet whether the danger threatening was very near or not;
whereas by taking a contrary direction it might overtake me suddenly and
unawares, as peril springs out upon one who is blind. Yet I proceeded