ssed
with the indunas in the presence of the king, at the Amapakati or
council, I, as chief of the indunas, spoke against it, saying that the
tribe of the Halakazi were great and strong, and that war with them
would mean war with the Swazis also; moreover, they had their dwelling
in caves which were had to win. Also, I said, that this was no time to
send impis to seek a single girl, for few years had gone by since the
Black One fell; and foes were many, and the soldiers of the land had
waxed few with slaughter, half of them having perished in the marshes of
the Limpopo. Now, time must be given them to grow up again, for to-day
they were as a little child, or like a man wasted with hunger. Maids
were many, let the king take them and satisfy his heart, but let him
make no war for this one.

Thus I spoke boldly in the face of the king, as none had dared to speak
before Chaka; and courage passed from me to the hearts of the other
indunas and generals, and they echoed my words, for they knew that,
of all follies, to begin a new war with the Swazi people would be the
greatest.

Dingaan listened, and his brow grew dark, yet he was not so firmly
seated on the throne that he dared put away our words, for still there
were many in the land who loved the memory of Chaka, and remembered that
Dingaan had murdered him and Umhlangana also. For now that Chaka was
dead, people forgot how evilly he had dealt with them, and remembered
only that he was a great man, who had made the Zulu people out of
nothing, as a smith fashions a bright spear from a lump of iron. Also,
though they had changed masters, yet their burden was not lessened,
for, as Chaka slew, so Dingaan slew also, and as Chaka oppressed, so did
Dingaan oppress. Therefore Dingaan yielded to the voice of his indunas
and no impi was sent against the Halakazi to seek the maid that was
named the Lily. But still he hankered for her in his heart, and from
that hour he hated me because I had crossed his will and robbed him of
his desire.

Now, my father, there is this to be told: though I did not know it then,
the maid who was named the Lily was no other than my daughter Nada. The
thought, indeed, came into my mind, that none but Nada could be so fair.
Yet I knew for certain that Nada and her mother Macropha were dead, for
he who brought me the news of their death had seen their bodies locked
in each other's arms, killed, as it were, by the same spear. Yet, as
it chanced, he was w