he hearts of the soldiers who are gathered in the
great square by showing myself to them?"

Mapela revolved this very important question in his mind for nearly a
minute; then he raised his head and answered:

"If, O Great, Great One, the words of the humblest of thy servants carry
weight with thee I would say, show not thyself in thy glorious garb
until to-morrow. There are but a few warriors in the square to-day, so
few that they are altogether unworthy of so great an honour as that
which thou dost suggest; moreover, they would go away and babble to
others of what they had seen, and much of the glory and splendour of thy
first appearance in those magnificent garments would be wasted. Wait
until to-morrow, O Elephant whose tread causes the earth to tremble with
fear, and then--when the whole army is gathered together, and all can
see thee at the same moment--thou shalt reveal thyself in all thy
magnificent splendour, and--and--words fail me to predict the result."

"Perhaps thou art right, Mapela the Wise One," answered the king, kindly
overlooking--or perhaps not noticing--the rather lame and impotent
conclusion of the induna's high-flown speech. "Yes; perhaps thou art
right," (this rather regretfully). "But there is no reason why I should
not at once show myself to my wives; and, by the bones of my royal
father, I will! There be those among them who of late have shown a
tendency to make light of my words and hold me of small account. I will
see what they will say and how they will act when they behold me as I
now am!"

And therewith, Lomalindela, autocrat of the Mashona nation, lord of life
and death over nearly a million people, stalked across the room with his
sword clanking at his heels, drew aside a curtain, and disappeared
behind it. There followed a breathless silence for the space of perhaps
half a minute, a silence deep, pregnant, and almost awe-inspiring; and
then there floated out from the other side of the kaross curtain a
little shriek in an unmistakable feminine tone of voice, a shriek
expressive of mingled astonishment, awestruck wonder, and delight,
immediately followed by a perfectly deafening clamour of exclamations
and laughter from at least fifty women--if their number might be gauged
by the volume of sound that they created--amid which might be
imperfectly caught, at intervals, the deep tones of Lomalindela's voice,
raised apparently in remonstrance, entreaty, and indignation.

Mapela,