, I praised the king and called him by his
royal names. The councillors sprang towards me to seize me again,
but Chaka said, "Let him be; I would talk with my servant." Then the
councillors bowed themselves on either side, and laid their hands on
their sticks, their foreheads touching the ground. But I sat down on the
floor of the hut over against the king, and we talked through the fire.

"Tell me of the cattle that I sent thee to number, Mopo, son of
Makedama," said Chaka. "Have my servants dealt honestly with my cattle?"

"They have dealt honestly, O king," I answered.

"Tell me, then, of the number of the cattle and of their markings, Mopo,
forgetting none."

So I sat and told him, ox by ox, cow by cow, and heifer by heifer,
forgetting none; and Chaka listened silently as one who is asleep. But I
knew that he did not sleep, for all the while the firelight flickered
in his fierce eyes. Also I knew that he did but torment me, or that,
perhaps, he would learn of the cattle before he killed me. At length all
the tale was told.

"So," said the king, "it goes well. There are yet honest men left in the
land. Knowest thou, Mopo, that sorrow has come upon thy house while thou
wast about my business."

"I have heard it, O king!" I answered, as one who speaks of a small
matter.

"Yes, Mopo, sorrow has come upon thy house, the curse of Heaven has
fallen upon thy kraal. They tell me, Mopo, that the fire from above ran
briskly through they huts."

"I have heard it, I king!"

"They tell me, Mopo, that those within thy gates grew mad at the
sight of the fire, and dreaming there was no escape, that they stabbed
themselves with assegais or leaped into the flames."

"I have heard it, O king! What of it? Any river is deep enough to drown
a fool!"

"Thou hast heard these things, Mopo, but thou hast not yet heard all.
Knowest thou, Mopo, that among those who died in thy kraal was she who
bore me, she who was named Mother of the Heavens?"

Then, my father, I, Mopo, acted wisely, because of the thought which my
good spirit gave me, for I cast myself upon the ground, and wailed aloud
as though in utter grief.

"Spare my ears, Black One!" I wailed. "Tell me not that she who bore
thee is dead, O Lion of the Zulu. For the others, what is it? It is a
breath of wind, it is a drop of water; but this trouble is as the gale
or as the sea."

"Cease, my servant, cease!" said the mocking voice of Chaka; "but know
this, thou hast don