swered that the shadow of evil lay upon her heart, for she was sure
that if I left her at the king's kraal, when I returned again I should
find neither her nor Nada, my child, nor Umslopogaas, who was named my
son, and whom I loved as a son, still in the land of life. Then I tried
to calm her; but the more I strove the more she wept, saying that she
knew well that these things would be so.

Now I asked her what could be done, for I was stirred by her tears, and
the dread of evil crept from her to me as shadows creep from the valley
to the mountain.

She answered, "Take me with you, my husband, that I may leave this evil
land, where the very skies rain blood, and let me rest awhile in the
place of my own people till the terror of Chaka has gone by."

"How can I do this?" I said. "None may leave the king's kraal without
the king's pass."

"A man may put away his wife," she replied. "The king does not stand
between a man and his wife. Say, my husband, that you love me no longer,
that I bear you no more children, and that therefore you send me back
whence I came. By-and-bye we will come together again if we are left
among the living."

"So be it," I answered. "Leave the kraal with Nada and Umslopogaas this
night, and to-morrow morning meet me at the river bank, and we shall
go on together, and for the rest may the spirits of our fathers hold us
safe."

So we kissed each other, and Macropha went on secretly with the
children.

Now at the dawning on the morrow I summoned the men whom the king had
given me, and we started upon our journey. When the sun was well up we
came to the banks of the river, and there I found my wife Macropha, and
with her the two children. They rose as I came, but I frowned at my wife
and she gave me no greeting. Those with me looked at her askance.

"I have divorced this woman," I said to them. "She is a withered tree, a
worn out old hag, and now I take her with me to send her to the country
of the Swazis, whence she came. Cease weeping," I added to Macropha, "it
is my last word."

"What says the king?" asked the men.

"I will answer to the king," I said. And we went on.

Now I must tell how we lost Umslopogaas, the son of Chaka, who was then
a great lad drawing on to manhood, fierce in temper, well grown and
broad for his years.

We had journeyed seven days, for the way was long, and on the night of
the seventh day we came to a mountainous country in which there were few
kraals, for C