be friends with the English. I
know that he sometimes holds a sort of court by himself, away from the
king, although he is said to have almost as much power in the country as
his fat old father," answered Denis. "I'll try and find out from our
guards."
When Denis, however, put the question to the Zulus, they, not
understanding, or not wishing to give him information, made him no
answer.
"Never fear, it will be all right," said Denis. "When Cetchwayo finds
that we belong to Hendricks, whom he knows well, he will set us at
liberty, and soundly rate our captors for carrying us off."
They were still, however, left in doubt as to how they were to be
treated. The chiefs on horseback proceeded down the hill, and directed
their course towards one end of the valley, where a large hut had been
put up, before which was seated a tall, rather stout personage, with
several chiefs standing near him.
"That must be Cetchwayo," said Denis, pointing him out to Percy. "I
never saw the black prince, but he answers his description."
On reaching the neighbourhood of the hut, the chiefs dismounted, and
giving their horses to some attendants, advanced on foot. After going
through the usual ceremonies, they stood on one side, and their leader
making a sign to his followers to come forward with their prisoners, the
prince cast a frowning glance at them; perhaps it was habitual to his
countenance.
"Can either of you speak the Zulu tongue?" he inquired in a gruff voice.
"I can," answered Denis in the same language, stepping forward. "What
does the Prince require of us?"
"To whom do you belong?" was the next question.
"To Hendricks the hunter and trader. He is well known to you," answered
Denis.
"I care not for your relatives or friends. Whom do you hold to be the
chief person in Zululand?"
"Surely who else but King Panda and his son Cetchwayo?" replied Denis,
in a confident tone.
"In that respect you have not answered wisely. Panda is king it is
true; but Cetchwayo, who is he?"
"I thought that you were Cetchwayo," said Denis.
"In that you are mistaken, young Englishman; I am Umbulazi, a better man
than Cetchwayo, and have more right to be the prince than he has."
"I beg your pardon," answered Denis, in no way abashed.
"Understand, Prince, that we are travellers through the country, that we
have come to trade and to hunt, but we do not pretend to have more
affection for one ruler than another. We were
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