many years,
that he is not my brother; who, then, is he, father?"

"He is your cousin, Nada."

"Ah," she answered, "I am glad. It would have grieved me had he whom I
loved been shown to be but a stranger in whom I have no part," and she
smiled a little in the eyes and at the corners of her mouth. "But tell
me this tale also."

So I told her the tale of the birth of Umslopogaas, for I trusted her.

"Ah," she said, when I had finished, "ah! you come of a bad stock,
Umslopogaas, though it is a kingly one. I shall love you little
henceforth, child of the hyena man."

"Then that is bad news," said Umslopogaas, "for know, Nada, I desire now
that you should love me more than ever--that you should be my wife and
love me as your husband!"

Now the Lily's face grew sad and sweet, and all the hidden mockery went
out of her talk--for Nada loved to mock.

"Did you not speak to me on that night in the Halakazi caves,
Umslopogaas, of one Zinita, who is your wife, and Inkosikaas of the
People of the Axe?"

Then the brow of Umslopogaas darkened: "What of Zinita?" he said. "It is
true she is my chieftainess; is it not allowed a man to take more than
one wife?"

"So I trust," answered Nada, smiling, "else men would go unwed for long,
for few maids would marry them who then must labour alone all their
days. But, Umslopogaas, if there are twenty wives, yet one must be
first. Now this has come about hitherto: that wherever I have been it
has been thrust upon me to be first, and perhaps it might be thus once
more--what then, Umslopogaas?"

"Let the fruit ripen before you pluck it, Nada," he answered. "If you
love me and will wed me, it is enough."

"I pray that it may not be more than enough," she said, stretching out
her hand to him. "Listen, Umslopogaas: ask my father here what were the
words I spoke to him many years ago, before I was a woman, when, with my
mother, Macropha, I left him to go among the Swazi people. It was after
you had been borne away by the lion, Umslopogaas, I told my father that
I would marry no man all my life, because I loved only you, who were
dead. My father reproached me, saying that I must not speak thus of my
brother, but it was my heart which spoke, and it spoke truly; for see,
Umslopogaas, you are no brother to me! I have kept that vow. How many
men have sort me in wedlock since I became a woman, Umslopogaas? I tell
you that they are as the leaves upon a tree. Yet I have given myself to
none, an