r honour, and I am repaid. Farewell,
my husband, it is better to die with you than to enter the house of the
king's women," and Nanea stepped on to the platform.

Here, holding to a bough of one of the thorn trees, she turned and
addressed Hadden, saying:--

"Black Heart, you seem to have won the day, but me at least you lose
and--the sun is not yet set. After sunset comes the night, Black Heart,
and in that night I pray that you may wander eternally, and be given to
drink of my blood and the blood of Umgona my father, and the blood of
Nahoon my husband, who saved your life, and whom you have murdered.
Perchance, Black Heart, we may yet meet yonder--in the House of the
Dead."

Then uttering a low cry Nanea clasped her hands and sprang upwards and
outwards from the platform. The watchers bent their heads forward to
look. They saw her rush headlong down the face of the fall to strike
the water fifty feet below. A few seconds, and for the last time, they
caught sight of her white garment glimmering on the surface of the
gloomy pool. Then the shadows and mist-wreaths hid it, and she was gone.

"Now, husband," cried the cheerful voice of the captain, "yonder is your
marriage bed, so be swift to follow a bride who is so ready to lead the
way. _Wow!_ but you are good people to kill; never have I had to do with
any who gave less trouble. You----" and he stopped, for mental agony had
done its work, and suddenly Nahoon went mad before his eyes.

With a roar like that of a lion the great man cast off those who held
him and seizing one of them round the waist and thigh, he put out all
his terrible strength. Lifting him as though he had been an infant, he
hurled him over the edge of the cliff to find his death on the rocks of
the Pool of Doom. Then crying:--

"Black Heart! your turn, Black Heart the traitor!" he rushed at Hadden,
his eyes rolling and foam flying from his lips, as he passed striking
the chief Maputa from his horse with a backward blow of his hand. Ill
would it have gone with the white man if Nahoon had caught him. But
he could not come at him, for the soldiers sprang upon him and
notwithstanding his fearful struggles they pulled him to the ground, as
at certain festivals the Zulu regiments with their naked hands pull down
a bull in the presence of the king.

"Cast him over before he can work more mischief," said a voice. But the
captain cried out, "Nay, nay, he is sacred; the fire from Heaven has
fallen on hi