n war
and nothing but war. Yes, because of her we have been cooped up on
this mountain and killed whenever we ventured on to the plains beyond;
therefore we will have no more of her, she must find her own fortune,
for we have our lives and those of our wives and children to save.

"Further, I say this: the news of the offer of Bull-Head has gone abroad
among the people, and had we refused they would have torn us limb from
limb, yes, and you and the White Swallow also. Our hearts are sad, but
lady, who can fight against fate?"

"I can," answered Sihamba, "but have no fear; to-morrow at the dawn you
shall see us sit out upon the cliff point; and now, father of cowards,
begone, and let me see your face no more. Betray us if you will, you who
were not men enough to hold the water, you who are not men enough to cut
a path to it as you might, and therefore must complete your cowardice
with treachery. Betray us if you will, but I tell you that you shall not
go free from this disgrace. The curse of Chaka shall fall upon you and
the blade of the spear shall be the inheritance of you who are afraid to
grasp its shaft. Begone!" and withered by her words and the fire of her
eyes, the spokesmen of the Umpondwana crept like beaten hounds from the
presence of their deserted chieftainess.

Here I will stop the tale to say that this prophecy of Sihamba's came
true, as did all the prophecies of that strange woman, who, with other
gifts, without doubt had that of foresight. A few years later, when
Panda was king, and their wars with us Boers were ended, the Zulus, who
never forgot a quarrel, swooped down upon the Umpondwana unawares, and
storming the mountain by night, put all the men on it to the spear, and
carried away the women and children to Zululand, so that of this tribe
there remains nothing but some crumbling walls and a name of shame.

Now the sun had set upon that home of thirst, and all was silent in it
save for the sound of the hoofs of the galloping cattle as they rushed
hither and thither, and the groaning of the women and children, who
wandered about seeking grass to chew, for the sake of the night damps
that gathered on it. Sihamba went into the great hut where she always
slept with Suzanne, whom she found seated upon a stool, wan-faced, and
her eyes set wide with misery of mind and body.

"What passes now?" asked Suzanne.

The little woman came to her, and throwing her arms about her neck she
kissed her, an