as young in those days, and the sound of her voice was to
my ears as the rippling of water in a sun-dried land. I know not how it
is among you white people, _Nkose_, but among ourselves, when we are yet
young, we are ever as fools in such matters; when we are older--ah, then
it is different.

While we talked, her eye fell upon my broad spear--the King's Assegai--
and, reaching for it, she examined it knowingly.

"Worthy to be wielded by Tshaka himself," she muttered. "A splendid
spear! A royal weapon," examining the haft, which was dark-red then,
although it is now black with age. "Truly a royal weapon!"

"And a royal weapon it is," I answered, "for I had it from Umzilikazi's
own hand."

"Ha! And how was that?" she asked eagerly. But I looked knowing and
laughed.

"Nothing for nothing, Lalusini," I said. "Tell me thine own tale; then
thou shalt have that of the King's Assegai. And I promise thee that it
is a stirring one."

But she would not. Nevertheless, I told her my own tale, or a part of
it. At the mention of Nangeza she looked up quickly. "How many wives
have you, Untuswa?" she asked.

"Only three. But my _inkosikazi_ is more trouble than any thirty
ordinary women, for she wants to be chief over me, too."

Lalusini laughed.

"And that is Nangeza for whom you deserted your nation and incurred
death under its most terrible form?" she said.

I answered that it was.

"And you want me to go and be second to your _inkosikazi_, Untuswa!"

"Not so, for you would ever be my favourite wife."

"Until you found some other Mystery Queen hidden in a mountain cave,"
she said, mocking me. But I took snuff and answered nothing, for a man
who undertakes to answer everything a woman says is like one who begins
to swim across a flooded river: he knows where he goes in, but cannot
tell where he may get out, or if ever--at least, so it is among
ourselves; I know not if it is the same among white people.

"And the King?" she said. "How many wives has he?"

"That question is hard to answer. A great many does he possess, yet he
cares not for any of them, neither does he love women over-much. A
woman, he says, is like the grains of the _umbona_ [maize], which is
tender and nice when young, but soon grows hard and tooth-breaking, and
needs much pounding to turn it once more into any use at all. Thus has
the King often spoken when we have been talking together."

How Lalusini laughed, and it was good to h