n thou
didst wander in Zululand, and among the white people of Natal, did not
thine heart turn to the land thy mother told thee of, thy native place,
where thou didst see the light, and play when thou wast little, the
land where thy place was?"

"It was even so, Macumazahn."

"In like manner, Ignosi, do our hearts turn to our land and to our own
place."

Then came a silence. When Ignosi broke it, it was in a different voice.

"I do perceive that now as ever thy words are wise and full of reason,
Macumazahn; that which flies in the air loves not to run along the
ground; the white man loves not to live on the level of the black or to
house among his kraals. Well, ye must go, and leave my heart sore,
because ye will be as dead to me, since from where ye are no tidings
can come to me.

"But listen, and let all your brothers know my words. No other white
man shall cross the mountains, even if any man live to come so far. I
will see no traders with their guns and gin. My people shall fight with
the spear, and drink water, like their forefathers before them. I will
have no praying-men to put a fear of death into men's hearts, to stir
them up against the law of the king, and make a path for the white folk
who follow to run on. If a white man comes to my gates I will send him
back; if a hundred come I will push them back; if armies come, I will
make war on them with all my strength, and they shall not prevail
against me. None shall ever seek for the shining stones: no, not an
army, for if they come I will send a regiment and fill up the pit, and
break down the white columns in the caves and choke them with rocks, so
that none can reach even to that door of which ye speak, and whereof
the way to move it is lost. But for you three, Incubu, Macumazahn, and
Bougwan, the path is always open; for, behold, ye are dearer to me than
aught that breathes.

"And ye would go. Infadoos, my uncle, and my Induna, shall take you by
the hand and guide you with a regiment. There is, as I have learned,
another way across the mountains that he shall show you. Farewell, my
brothers, brave white men. See me no more, for I have no heart to bear
it. Behold! I make a decree, and it shall be published from the
mountains to the mountains; your names, Incubu, Macumazahn, and
Bougwan, shall be "_hlonipa_" even as the names of dead kings, and he
who speaks them shall die.[1] So shall your memory be preserved in the
land for ever.

"Go now, ere my ey