ought, had now arrived. I saw that everything was at
hand that the Great One might need, and then I prepared to depart.

"I know not, Untuswa," he said, as I took leave of him. "But for thy
faithfulness these many days I might bethink me that soon thou shouldst
return at the head of an _impi_ to earn the reward promised by Mpande
and the Amabuna to him who should deliver to them the real King--"

But I interrupted; somewhat unbecomingly, I admit:

"If that is thy thought, father, slay me as I stand," and dropping my
weapons I advanced a pace or two.

"Nay, nay, Untuswa," he said, "that is what I might have thought, not
what I thought," replied the King gently. "Fare-thee-well, Untuswa, and
may success be thine. Fare-thee-well, Untuswa, my servant--Untuswa, my
friend."

"_Bayete_!" I cried, with right hand aloft. Then I started upon my
errand, and more than ever did I rejoice that my spear had remained
bright in the face of the entreaties of Lalusini.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE STROKE OF SOPUZA.

"_Bayete, Nkulu-nkulu_!
Father! we thy children have found thee at last!
Lo! long have we wandered weeping, but now we are comforted.
Come forth and show us the brightness of thy head-ring."

Thus sang a great half circle of armed warriors, mustered on the slope
beneath Dingane's place of concealment.

Thus again and again they sang, but still Dingane did not appear.

For I had fulfilled my errand, _Nkose_, and this was the result--an
array of warriors nearly as large as the original strength of the
Amandebeli what time we followed Umzilikazi over the mountains. I had
gone hither and thither, had turned night into day, had not spared
myself, or feared danger. I had found out and rallied all the scattered
bands which at heart had remained faithful to Dingane. I had drawn men
from the kraals of Mpande himself, and from beneath the very shadow of
the camps of the Amabuna. But one moon had died since I took leave of
the King--I alone. Yet here I was, returning at the head of a splendid
army--an army nearly as large as that with which Umzilikazi had founded
a new nation. In truth, Dingane had not trusted me in vain.

Here were Silwane and Nomapela, and others of the old war-captains.
Here was a remnant of the old Imbele-bele regiment--the Bapongqolo, too,
my staunch refugees--and as much of the army as had survived the defeat
by Nongalaza. All had in truth thought Dingane to be dead, but as I
p