e,
and then not for a very long time, so great was the excitement.

"Come hither, Untuswa," said the Great Great One. "Thou shalt be my
voice, for I talk not with the tongue of these dogs. Bring forward the
dog who names himself a young lion."

Tauane was brought forward. Deeming his obeisance not low enough, one
of the body-guard seized him by the back of the neck and forced his face
down on to the very earth before the King.

"Down, dog!" he growled. "Down before the Founder of Nations, the
Scourge of the World!"

And in fierce, threatening chorus the warriors echoed the words.

Having contemplated with a scornful sneer the grovelling captive,
Umzilikazi said--

"Speak now with my tongue, Untuswa. But wait. Let old Masuka be sent
for. Two tongues are better than one."

Now I saw myself again undone, _Nkose_, for in turning that language
into our own I thought not to render it all, and therein lay safety.
But the old Masuka would certainly render it word for word. Still, my
snake was watching over me then, for a message came from the old
_isanusi_ that he was making _muti_, as befitted so serious a time.
This answer, which no other man among us would have dared to send,
unless he were more than tired of his life, seemed to satisfy the King.

"No matter," he said. "Thou wert my tongue before, Untuswa, when I
despatched thee to offer favour to this dog who calls himself a lion
Thou shalt be my tongue now."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE END OF TAUANE.

As the King thus spoke, _Nkose_, I felt safe again, for old Masuka might
not arrive before I had finished interpreting, and when that time had
come I felt sure that the moments left to the captive chief of the Blue
Cattle would be few indeed.

"So, brother!" said the Great Great One, speaking in that soft and
pleasant voice which was the most terrible of all, "so, brother--who
thought to rule the world? What bad dreams disturbed thy night's rest
to cause thee to make a mock of my messengers?"

This I put to Tauane. But he made no reply save a murmur, waiting for
the King to continue.

"I offered thee life, and thou didst choose death; death for thyself and
thy people. Go, ask such as remain of the tribes and peoples which have
lain in and around our path--ask if the son of Matyobane was ever known
to send forth his `word' twice?"

Still the chief made no reply, save for a murmur. But there was a light
in his eyes as of hope, for Umzilikazi's voi