number proposed that Ferodia should be sent for, as he
was a relative of the King; but the majority, though small, were for
Kalulu, who, not only was nephew of Katalambula, but adopted son, and
the choice of the old King. Besides, Kalulu was a brave lad, and would
in time be a greater warrior than Ferodia, perhaps greater than
Katalambula, and the equal of Loralamba. His youth was full of promise,
and he had already won everybody's regard for his amiability and good
heart, said they. Whereupon the discussion grew fierce; those for
Ferodia threatened to leave Katalambula's tribe and go over to him, and
would return with spear and sword to cut Kalulu's head off. Finally,
when all this was at its greatest height, and wordy dissension came near
ending in bloodshed, Soltali rose, and, by his eloquence, succeeded in
calming the turbulent and winning over to Kalulu's side several of the
adherents of Ferodia, until there remained but a email, contumacious
minority for the latter.

While the majority waited for the messengers sent to inform Kalulu of
the honour conferred on him, the minority rose and departed out of the
village, muttering threats, and promising to return with Ferodia, who
would punish all with a terrible vengeance.

Kalulu received the deputation, and when told its mission, rose at once
and followed them to Soltali. This old man--the principal magic doctor
of the tribe--was not only one of the chief councillors, or chief
manyapara--to give the technical Kituta term--but had also had the
honour of having Katalambula for his son-in-law, as the King had taken
his daughter Lamoli for wife, and Moto's wife, Lamoli, was granddaughter
to Soltali. But, aside from this relationship to Kalulu, the old man
dearly loved the amiable prince, and rejoiced that he was now permitted
to inform Kalulu that he was elected King.

Some of the _dowa_, or uganga (the millet-flour mixed with water, a most
potent medicine or charm), was placed near Soltali, and as Kalulu stood
before them in the now bright moonlight, graceful as a dusky Ganymede,
the magic doctor rose, while the elders and councillors sat around, and,
taking some of the potent medicine in his hand, he touched the boy's
forehead, each cheek, nose, mouth, and chin, crying in a loud voice: "Be
thou King! Be thou brave! Be thou strong! Be thou good! And let all
thy enemies run before thee!"

In succession each elder rose, dipped his hand in the medicine, and
t