Nada the Lily | Page 8

of those with whom her life was
intertwined moved him strangely, and in many ways, he has done more,

he has printed it that others may judge of it.
And now his part is played. Let him who was named Zweete, but who
had another name, take up the story.
CHAPTER I
THE BOY CHAKA PROPHESIES
You ask me, my father, to tell you the tale of the youth of Umslopogaas,
holder of the iron Chieftainess, the axe Groan-maker, who was named
Bulalio the Slaughterer, and of his love for Nada, the most beautiful of
Zulu women. It is long; but you are here for many nights, and, if I live
to tell it, it shall be told. Strengthen your heart, my father, for I have
much to say that is sorrowful, and even now, when I think of Nada the
tears creep through the horn that shuts out my old eyes from light.
Do you know who I am, my father? You do not know. You think that I
am an old, old witch-doctor named Zweete. So men have thought for
many years, but that is not my name. Few have known it, for I have
kept it locked in my breast, lest, thought I live now under the law of the
White Man, and the Great Queen is my chieftainess, an assegai still
might find this heart did any know my name.
Look at this hand, my father--no, not that which is withered with fire;
look on this right hand of mine. You see it, though I who am blind
cannot. But still, within me, I see it as it was once. Ay! I see it red and
strong--red with the blood of two kings. Listen, my father; bend your
ear to me and listen. I am Mopo--ah! I felt you start; you start as the
regiment of the Bees started when Mopo walked before their ranks, and
from the assegai in his hand the blood of Chaka[1] dropped slowly to
the earth. I am Mopo who slew Chaka the king. I killed him with
Dingaan and Umhlangana the princes; but the wound was mine that his
life crept out of, and but for me he would never have been slain. I killed
him with the princes, but Dingaan, I and one other slew alone.
[1] The Zulu Napoleon, one of the greatest geniuses and most wicked
men who ever lived. He was killed in the year 1828, having slaughtered

more than a million human beings.--ED.
What do you say? "Dingaan died by the Tongola."
Yes, yes, he died, but not there; he died on the Ghost Mountain; he lies
in the breast of the old Stone Witch who sits aloft forever waiting for
the world to perish. But I also was on the Ghost Mountain. In those
days my feet still could travel fast, and vengeance would not let me
sleep. I travelled by day, and by night I found him. I and another, we
killed him--ah! ah!
Why do I tell you this? What has it to do with the loves of
Umslopogaas and Nada the Lily? I will tell you. I stabbed Chaka for
the sake of my sister, Baleka, the mother of Umslopogaas, and because
he had murdered my wives and children. I and Umslopogaas slew
Dingaan for the sake of Nada, who was my daughter.
There are great names in the story, my father. Yes, many have heard
the names: when the Impis roared them out as they charged in battle, I
have felt the mountains shake and seen the waters quiver in their sound.
But where are they now? Silence has them, and the white men write
them down in books. I opened the gates of distance for the holders of
the names. They passed through and they are gone beyond. I cut the
strings that tied them to the world. They fell off. Ha! ha! They fell off!
Perhaps they are falling still, perhaps they creep about their desolate
kraals in the skins of snakes. I wish I knew the snakes that I might
crush them with my heel. Yonder, beneath us, at the burying place of
kings, there is a hole. In that hole lies the bones of Chaka, the king who
died for Baleka. Far away in Zululand there is a cleft upon the Ghost
Mountain. At the foot of that cleft lie the bones of Dingaan, the king
who died for Nada. It was far to fall and he was heavy; those bones of
his are broken into little pieces. I went to see them when the vultures
and the jackals had done their work. And then I laughed three times and
came here to die.
All that is long ago, and I have not died; though I wish to