hall be the sight which they have always
loved the most to behold, the sight of warriors under arms, of warriors
of Zulu.

"What prouder name has the world ever known? Warriors of Zulu! And
you--you, my children, have well deserved it and worthily won it. Not
in you was it to place your necks beneath the foot of any base slave of
the Amabuna, any cur who seeks to roar like the lion, any calf who would
fain stamp with the rumble of the elephant, any changeling bastard who
would drag the House of Senzangakona into the dust beneath the shoes of
the Amabuna. Not in you was it to do this. But you have faithfully
cleaved to your real King in shadow as in sunshine, and see now the
result. Look around on your own ranks. Very soon now should we have
gone forth, for not always was it my intention to sit down here and
rest. Then we would have swept the traitors of our own race and the
Amabuna into one common pit, and covered them up and stamped them in
there for ever.

"I cannot talk many more words to you, my children. But if you have
been loyal and faithful to me, your well-being has ever been my care as
your father, your brave deeds have ever been my pride as your King. The
nation has been divided, but I would have knit it together again. I
would have restored it through you, faithful ones, to all its former
greatness. But now I have to leave you. The base hand of evil wizardry
has found me in my sleep, has struck me down in the night, and now I go
into the Dark Unknown."

"_Ma-ye_!" moaned the warriors, their heads bowed in grief as Dingane
paused. Then, gathering once more fresh strength, with an effort the
dying King went on, and his voice rolled clear and strong like a call to
battle:

"Lo! I see not the end. I know not who shall reunite this people, who
shall deliver it from slavery and disgrace--extinction; for now I must
leave it. My eyes are dim and the Dark Unknown is closing in around me.
Yet still my last gaze is upon that sight which is the grandest the
world ever saw--the warriors of Zulu under arms. Farewell, warriors of
Zulu!"

The voice ceased. The head drooped forward on the chest. The great
form would have fallen prone from the chair but for those who stood by.
The King was dead.

Through the dense ranks there shivered forth one deep moan, and for long
no man stirred. All sat in silence, mourning thus the loss of their
father and King.

So died Dingane, the second of the mighty K