ors!" she cried, laughing wildly. "The alligators are
hungry. They must be fed! They must be fed!"

The ground was open, the way but short. Before any could come up with
her she had gained the brink of the cliff overhanging the pool. She
turned and stood facing us, and there, in sight of all, shrieked out a
last curse upon the King, upon me, and upon the whole nation; then, just
as the foremost of the pursuers sprang to seize her, she flung herself
backward from the brink. There was a loud splash, but no cry, and they
who hurried to look declared that the water was lashed into a
red-and-white foam, as the ravenous monsters rushed upon their prey,
rending it limb from limb in a moment; and, indeed, though this is a
hideous death enough, it is but a mere passing pang when compared with
the black, lingering agony of the stake of impalement.

Thus died Nangeza, my _inkosikazi_, she whom I had stolen from the
_isigodhlo_ in times past, and in doing so had thrust my head deep
within the red jaws of death. Now she died thus, brave, fierce, defiant
to the last; and, _Nkose_--I think it was about time she did.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE WHITE SHIELD.

"Praise on now, ye _izimbonga_, shout aloud, my children," said the
King, "for we are rid of a most pestilent witch, even though Untuswa has
lost his _inkosikazi_. Well, what matter? We can find him a new one.
Look, Untuswa. This stranger is fair. Will she not make a noble
substitute for the evildoer who sleeps yonder beneath the water?"

Now, _Nkose_, my heart leaped within me at the words; yet I did not like
the tone, for I could see that the King was mocking me, and I suspected
a trap; for Umzilikazi's ways were dark at times, and of late his
suspicions, in one direction or the other, were seldom at rest. Still,
I answered, as was my wont, boldly--

"She would indeed, Father. Is this, then, the `word' of the Lion to the
lion-cub?"

All gazed silently and in wonder at my boldness, for none doubted but
that this beautiful stranger should reign queen in the _isigodhlo_.

"Ah, ah, Untuswa," mocked the King. "Know you not that she is a
sorceress, and such can wed with none? Yet, it is a pity--a pity," he
added, gazing longingly at the beauty of Lalusini, who stood with a half
smile on her lips, looking down at us as though we were a couple of
children discussing our games. Indeed, there were not wanting some who
thought, that, noble and stately as the King'