"You are mistaken, O Son of Panda," I answered; "the splendour of the
Amawombe's great stand against a multitude is on the name of Maputa, the
King's councillor and the induna of the Black One [Chaka], who is gone.
He lies yonder in his glory," and I pointed to Maputa's pierced body. "I
did but fight as a soldier in his ranks."
"Oh, yes, we know that, we know all that, Macumazahn; and Maputa was a
clever monkey in his way, but we know also that you taught him how to
jump. Well, he is dead, and nearly all the Amawombe are dead, and of
my three regiments but a handful is left; the vultures have the rest
of them. That is all finished and forgotten, Macumazahn, though by good
fortune the spears went wide of you, who doubtless are a magician, since
otherwise you and your servant and your horse would not have escaped
with a few scratches when everyone else was killed. But you did escape,
as you have done before in Zululand; and now you see here lie certain
men who were born of my father. Yet one is missing--he against whom I
fought, aye, and he whom, although we fought, I loved the best of all
of them. Now, it has been whispered in my ear that you alone know what
became of him, and, Macumazahn, I would learn whether he lives or is
dead; also, if he is dead, by whose hand he died, who would reward that
hand."
Now, I looked round me, wondering whether I should tell the truth or
hold my tongue, and as I looked my eyes met those of Saduko, who, cold
and unconcerned, was seated among the captains, but at a little distance
from any of them--a man apart; and I remembered that he and I alone knew
the truth of the end of Umbelazi.
Why, I do not know, but it came into my mind that I would keep the
secret. Why should I tell the triumphant Cetewayo that Umbelazi had been
driven to die by his own hand; why should I lay bare Saduko's victory
and shame? All these matters had passed into the court of a different
tribunal. Who was I that I should reveal them or judge the actors of
this terrible drama?
"O Cetewayo," I said, "as it chanced I saw the end of Umbelazi. No enemy
killed him. He died of a broken heart upon a rock above the river; and
for the rest of the story go ask the Tugela into which he fell."
For a moment Cetewayo hid his eyes with his hand.
"Is it so?" he said presently. "Wow! I say again that had it not been
for Saduko, the son of Matiwane, yonder, who had some quarrel with
Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti about a woman and took his chance of vengeance,
it might have been I who died of a broken heart upon a rock above the
river. Oh, Saduko, I owe you a great debt and will pay you well; but you
shall be no friend of mine, lest we also should chance to quarrel about
a woman, and I should find myself dying of a broken heart on a rock
above a river. O my brother Umbelazi, I mourn for you, my brother, for,
after all, we played together when we were little and loved each other
once, who in the end fought for a toy that is called a throne, since,
as our father said, two bulls cannot live in the same yard, my brother.
Well, you are gone and I remain, yet who knows but that at the last your
lot may be happier than mine. You died of a broken heart, Umbelazi, but
of what shall I die, I wonder?"[*] [*--That history of Cetewayo's fall and tragic death and of
Zikali's vengeance I hope to write one day, for in these
events also I was destined to play a part.--A. Q.] I have given this interview in detail, since it was because of it that
the saying went abroad that Umbelazi died of a broken heart.