er and less
tightly curled, and her skin was lighter--more of the colour of pure
copper. These things she had from her mother, Macropha; though she was
fairer than Macropha--fairer, indeed, than any woman of my people whom
I have seen. Her mother, Macropha, my wife, was of Swazi blood, and was
brought to the king's kraal with other captives after a raid, and given
to me as a wife by the king. It was said that she was the daughter of a
Swazi headman of the tribe of the Halakazi, and that she was born of his
wife is true, but whether he was her father I do not know; for I have
heard from the lips of Macropha herself, that before she was born there
was a white man staying at her father's kraal. He was a Portuguese from
the coast, a handsome man, and skilled in the working of iron. This
white man loved the mother of my wife, Macropha, and some held that
Macropha was his daughter, and not that of the Swazi headman. At least
I know this, that before my wife's birth the Swazi killed the white man.
But none can tell the truth of these matters, and I only speak of them
because the beauty of Nada was rather as is the beauty of the white
people than of ours, and this might well happen if her grandfather
chanced to be a white man.

Now Umslopogaas and Nada were always together. Together they ate,
together they slept and wandered; they thought one thought and spoke
with one tongue. Ou! it was pretty to see them! Twice while they were
still children did Umslopogaas save the life of Nada.

The first time it came about thus. The two children had wandered far
from the kraal, seeking certain berries that little ones love. On they
wandered and on, singing as they went, till at length they found the
berries, and ate heartily. Then it was near sundown, and when they had
eaten they fell asleep. In the night they woke to find a great wind
blowing and a cold rain falling on them, for it was the beginning of
winter, when fruits are ripe.

"Up, Nada!" said Umslopogaas, "we must seek the kraal or the cold will
kill us."

So Nada rose, frightened, and hand in hand they stumbled through the
darkness. But in the wind and the night they lost their path, and when
at length the dawn came they were in a forest that was strange to them.
They rested awhile, and finding berries ate them, then walked again.
All that day they wandered, till at last the night came down, and they
plucked branches of trees and piled the branches over them for warmth,
and t