ou that the mouth of
Dingaan shall be welcome, and shall speak the words of Dingaan in peace;
yet I would that it were the head of Dingaan that came and not his mouth
only, for then Axe Groan-Maker would join in our talk--ay, because of
one Mopo, whom his brother Chaka murdered, it would also speak with
Dingaan. Still, the mouth is not the head, so the mouth may come in
peace.'"

Now I started when for the second time I heard talk of one Mopo, whose
name had been on the lips of Bulalio the Slaughterer. Who was there
that would thus have loved Mopo except one who was long dead? And yet,
perhaps the chief spoke of some other Mopo, for the name was not my
own only--in truth, Chaka had killed a chief of that name at the great
mourning, because he said that two Mopos in the land were one too many,
and that though this Mopo wept sorely when the tears of others were dry.
So I said only that this Bulalio had a high stomach, and we went on to
the gates of the kraal.

There were none to meet us at the gates, and none stood by the doors of
the huts within them, but beyond, from the cattle kraal that was in the
centre of the huts, rose a dust and a din as of men gathering for war.
Now some of those were with me were afraid, and would have turned back,
fearing treachery, and they were yet more afraid when, on coming to the
inner entrance of the cattle kraal, we saw some five hundred soldiers
being mustered there company by company, by two great men, who ran up
and down the ranks shouting.

But I cried, "Nay! nay! Turn not back! Bold looks melt the hearts of
foes. Moreover, if this Bulalio would have murdered us, there was no
need for him to call up so many of his warriors. He is a proud chief,
and would show his might, not knowing that the king we serve can muster
a company for every man he has. Let us go on boldly."

So we walked forward towards the impi that was gathered on the further
side of the kraal. Now the two great men who were marshalling the
soldiers saw us, and came to meet us, one following the other. He who
came first bore the axe upon his shoulder, and he who followed swung
a huge club. I looked upon the foremost of them, and ah! my father,
my heart grew faint with joy, for I knew him across the years. It was
Umslopogaas! my fosterling, Umslopogaas! and none other, now grown
into manhood--ay, into such a man as was not to be found beside him in
Zululand. He was great and fierce, somewhat spare in frame, but wide