hy hand; in a day to
come, O King, THOU shalt lie low in blood at theirs. Madness has taken
hold of thee, O King, that thou hast done this thing, and the fruit
of thy madness shall be thy death. I have spoken, I, who am the king's
servant. Let the will of the king be done."

Then I stood still waiting to be killed, for, my father, in the fury of
my heart at the wickedness which had been worked I could not hold back
my words. Thrice Dingaan looked on me with a terrible face, and yet
there was fear in his face striving with its rage, and I waited calmly
to see which would conquer, the fear or the rage. When at last he spoke,
it was one word, "Go!" not three words, "Take him away." So I went yet
living, and with me the councillors, leaving the king alone.

I went with a heavy heart, my father, for of all the evil sights that I
have seen it seemed to me that this was the most evil--that the Amaboona
should be slaughtered thus treacherously, and that the impis should be
sent out treacherously to murder those who were left of them, together
with their women and children. Ay, and they slew--six hundred of them
did they slay--yonder in Weenen, the land of weeping.

Say, my father, why does the Umkulunkulu who sits in the Heavens above
allow such things to be done on the earth beneath? I have heard the
preaching of the white men, and they say that they know all about
Him--that His names are Power and Mercy and Love. Why, then, does He
suffer these things to be done--why does He suffer such men as Chaka and
Dingaan to torment the people of the earth, and in the end pay them but
one death for all the thousands that they have given to others? Because
of the wickedness of the peoples, you say; but no, no, that cannot be,
for do not the guiltless go with the guilty--ay, do not the innocent
children perish by the hundred? Perchance there is another answer,
though who am I, my father, that I, in my folly, should strive to search
out the way of the Unsearchable? Perchance it is but a part of the great
plan, a little piece of that pattern of which I spoke--the pattern on
the cup that holds the waters of His wisdom. Wow! I do not understand,
who am but a wild man, nor have I found more knowledge in the hearts of
you tamed white people. You know many things, but of these you do not
know: you cannot tell us what we were an hour before birth, nor what we
shall be an hour after death, nor why we were born, nor why we die. You
can only hope