ime short for so many to march so far.

"Dogs should run swiftly when their master calls, Mopo, my servant,"
said Chaka, and the dreadful light came into his eyes that never shone
in the eyes of any other man. Then I grew sick at heart, my father--ay,
though I loved my people little, and they had driven me away, I grew
sick at heart. Now we had come to a spot where there is a great rift
of black rock, and the name of that rift is U'Donga-lu-ka-Tatiyana. On
either side of this donga the ground slopes steeply down towards its
yawning lips, and from its end a man may see the open country. Here
Chaka sat down at the end of the rift, pondering. Presently he looked up
and saw a vast multitude of men, women, and children, who wound like a
snake across the plain beneath towards the kraal Gibamaxegu.

"I think, Mopo," said the king, "that by the colour of their shields,
yonder should be the Langeni tribe--thine own people, Mopo."

"It is my people, O King," I answered.

Then Chaka sent messengers, running swiftly, and bade them summon the
Langeni people to him where he sat. Other messengers he sent also to the
kraal, whispering in their ears, but what he said I did not know then.

Now, for a while, Chaka watched the long black snake of men winding
towards him across the plain till the messengers met them and the snake
began to climb the slope of the hill.

"How many are these people of thine, Mopo?" asked the king.

"I know not, O Elephant," I answered, "who have not seen them for many
years. Perhaps they number three full regiments."

"Nay, more," said the king; "what thinkest thou, Mopo, would this people
of thine fill the rift behind us?" and he nodded at the gulf of stone.

Now, my father, I trembled in all my flesh, seeing the purpose of Chaka;
but I could find no words to say, for my tongue clave to the roof of my
mouth.

"The people are many," said Chaka, "yet, Mopo, I bet thee fifty head of
cattle that they will not fill the donga."

"The king is pleased to jest," I said.

"Yea, Mopo, I jest; yet as a jest take thou the bet."

"As the king wills," I murmured--who could not refuse. Now the people
of my tribe drew near: at their head was an old man, with white hair and
beard, and, looking at him, I knew him for my father, Makedama. When he
came within earshot of the king, he gave him the royal salute of Bayete,
and fell upon his hands and knees, crawling towards him, and konzaed to
the king, praising him as h