pi to fall on the rest of the
English when they walked into the trap, not a man of your people
would have been left alive. Would that have happened in the time
of Chaka?"

"I think not, Zikali. Still I am glad that it did happen."

"I think not too, Macumazahn, but small men, small wit. Also
like you I am glad that it did not happen, since it is the Zulus
I hate, not the English who have now learned a lesson and will
not be caught again. Oh! many a captain in Zululand is to-day
flat as a pricked bladder, and even their victory, as they call
it, cost them dear. For, mind you, Macumazahn, for every white
man they killed two of them died. So, so! In the morning you
left the hill--do not look astonished, Macumazahn. Perhaps those
captains on the rock beneath you let you go for their own
purposes, or because they were commanded, for though weak I can
still lift a stone or two, Macumazahn, and afterwards told me all
about it. Then you found yourself alone among the dead, like the
last man in the world, Macumazahn, and that dog at your side,
also a horse came to you. Perhaps I sent them, perhaps it was a
chance. Who knows? Not I myself, for as I have said, my memory
has grown so bad. That was your first shock, Macumazahn, the
shock of standing alone among the dead like the last man in the
world. You felt it, did you not?"

"As I hope I shall never feel anything again. It nearly drove me
mad," I answered.

"Very nearly indeed, though I have felt worse things and only
laughed, as I would tell you, had I the time. Well, then the sun
struck you, for at this season of the year it is very hot in
those valleys for a white man with no covering to his head, and
you went quite mad, though fortunately the dog and the horse
remained as Heaven had made them. That was the second shock.
Then the storm burst and the lightning fell. It ran down the
rifle that you still carried, Macumazahn. I will show it to you
and you will see that its stock is shattered. Perhaps I turned
the flash aside, for I am a great thunder-herd, or perhaps it was
One mightier than I. That was the third shock, Macumazahn. Then
you were found, still living--how, the white man, your friend,
will tell you. But you should cherish that dog of yours,
Macumazahn, for many a man might have served you worse. And
being strong, though small, or perhaps because you still have
work left to do in the world before you leave it for a while, you
have live