"Dog," said the Prince, "where is your assegai?" And as he spoke he

threw it from him into the river beneath, for he had picked it up while

we struggled, but, as I noted, retained his own. "Now, dog, why do I not

kill you, as would have been easy but now? I will tell you. Because I

will not mix the blood of a traitor with my own. See!" He set the haft

of his broad spear upon the rock and bent forward over the blade. "You

and your witch-wife have brought me to nothing, O Saduko. My blood, and

the blood of all who clung to me, is on your head. Your name shall

stink for ever in the nostrils of all true men, and I whom you have

betrayed--I, the Prince Umbelazi--will haunt you while you live; yes,

my spirit shall enter into you, and when you die--ah! then we'll meet

again. Tell this tale to the white men, Macumazahn, my friend, on whom

be honour and blessings."

He paused, and I saw the tears gush from his eyes--tears mingled

with blood from the wound in his head. Then suddenly he uttered the

battle-cry of "Laba! Laba!" and let his weight fall upon the point of

the spear.

It pierced him through and through. He fell on to his hands and knees.

He looked up at us--oh, the piteousness of that look!--and then rolled

sideways from the edge of the rock.

A heavy splash, and that was the end of Umbelazi the Fallen--Umbelazi,

about whom Mameena had cast her net.

A sad story in truth. Although it happened so many years ago I weep as I

write it--I weep as Umbelazi wept.




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