re whose frown tens of thousands had trembled, a mere
framework of fleshless bones, seated upon his last throne, here, within
the heart of this vast silent rock-tomb: and the upright position of the
skull, caused by the sitting attitude in which Zulus are buried, seemed
to lend to the Death's head something of the majesty which it had worn
in life when its cavity had enclosed the indomitable and far-seeing
brain, when those eye-sockets had framed the relentless, terrible eyes.
For some moments he stood gazing upon the grim face staring at him from
its sightless sockets, and then, not in mockery, but moved by certain
poetic instincts underlying a highly imaginative temperament, he raised
his right hand, and uttered softly--

"Kumalo!"

Yes, even as he would have saluted the living, so he saluted the remains
of the dead King. Yet he had already violated and was here to plunder
the dead King's grave.

What was this? Something glistening among the rotting heap of wrappings
caught his eye. Bending down, he raised it eagerly. It was a large
bead about the size of a marble. Two more lay beside them, the remnant
of the leather lanyard on which they had been threaded, crumbling to his
touch. Gold, were they? They were of solid weight. But a quick close
examination convinced him that they were merely brass. Anyway, they
would make valuable curios, and he slipped them into his pocket
accordingly. Again he could not restrain a start as he raised his eyes.
The skull when last he beheld it, of a dull, yellowy white in the deep
shadows of the gloomy place was now shining like fire as it glowered at
him, suffused as with a reddening incandescent glow. A wave of
superstitious awe thrilled him from head to heel. What on earth did it
mean? And then the real reason of this startling metamorphosis came
home to him.

The sun had risen. High above through a chink between the huge boulders
right over the entrance of the cleft, one single spear-like beam found
entrance, and, piercing the gloomy shadows of the tomb, struck full upon
the fleshless countenance of the dead King, illuminating it with a
well-nigh supernatural glow; and with the clearing up of the mystery,
the spectator was lost in admiration of the ingenuity that had contrived
that the first ray of the rising sun should illuminate the countenance
of the Great Great One, whom while living they hailed, among other
titles of honour, as "Light of the Sun." Then he reme