for the land will be
swept of men."

"Why, Mopo, son of Makedama? But a few have perished of all the
thousands who are gathered together. Number the people and they will not
be missed."

"But a few have died beneath the assegai and the kerrie, O King. Yet
hunger and thirst shall finish the spear's work. The people have neither
eaten nor drunk for a day and a night, and for a day and a night they
have wailed and moaned. Look without, Black One, there they lie in heaps
with the dead. By to-morrow's light they also will be dead or dying."

Now, Chaka thought awhile, and he saw that the work would go too far,
leaving him but a small people over whom to rule.

"It is hard, Mopo," he said, "that thou and I must mourn alone over
our woes while these dogs feast and make merry. Yet, because of the
gentleness of my heart, I will deal gently with them. Go out, son of
Makedama, and bid my children eat and drink if they have the heart, for
this mourning is ended. Scarcely will Unandi, my mother, sleep well,
seeing that so little blood has been shed on her grave--surely her
spirit will haunt my dreams. Yet, because of the gentleness of my
heart, I declare this mourning ended. Let my children eat and drink, if,
indeed, they have the heart."

"Happy are the people over whom such a king is set," I said in answer.
Then I went out and told the words of Chaka to the chiefs and captains,
and those of them who had the voice left to them praised the goodness of
the king. But the most gave over sucking the dew from their sticks,
and rushed to the water like cattle that have wandered five days in the
desert, and drank their fill. Some of them were trampled to death in the
water.

Afterwards I slept as I might best; it was not well, my father, for I
knew that Chaka was not yet gutted with slaughter.

On the morrow many of the people went back to their homes, having sought
leave from the king, others drew away the dead to the place of bones,
and yet others were sent out in impis to kill such as had not come to
the mourning of the king. When midday was past, Chaka said that he would
walk, and ordered me and other of his indunas and servants to walk with
him. We went on in silence, the king leaning on my shoulder as on a
stick. "What of thy people, Mopo," he said at length, "what of the
Langeni tribe? Were they at my mourning? I did not see them."

Then I answered that I did not know, they had been summoned, but the way
was long and the t