"See yon pool, Untuswa?" pointing up the river where the alligators
dwelt, to whom were cast those whom the King had doomed to die. "Often,
at night, I go out and sit over that pool that I may talk with the
ghosts of them who have died there; and they come creeping up, those
ghosts of dead men, all dripping and bloody, as though fresh from the
alligators' jaws. Ha! and we have such talks, I, old Gegesa, and those
ghosts of dead men--yes, and of women, too, Untuswa--of women, too;" and
she paused with a shrill cackle, and leered at me. "There was thy
former _inkosikazi_, Nangeza, she who died there, and she came up and
talked with me, saying she should soon have fitting company in the land
of ghosts, for it was not healthy to be the _inkosikazi_ of Untuswa.
And just then I heard steps--the footsteps of men--although it was
night, and the neighbourhood of the pool was one of fear and of death.
So I hid myself, Untuswa--crept away behind a stone which the moon threw
into a black shadow, and this is what I saw. Four great, fierce looking
men came down to the brink of the rock which overhangs the pool, and in
their midst was a woman--"
"A woman!" I echoed, staring at her.
"_Eh-e_! a woman--tall and shapely and beautiful, _as a daughter of the
Great_."
"What then?"
I hissed the words rather than uttered them. Again that blood-wave
surged around my brain. I knew what was coming--knew the worst.
"What then? This," went on the hag. "They led her to the brink of the
pool, and were about to throw her in. But she spoke, and her voice was
firm and sweet, as the wind's whisper. `Lay not hands on me,' she said,
`for I come of the greatest the world ever saw.' Then they refrained,
and the foremost said, `Go in thyself, then, Daughter of the Great, for
it is the word of the King. It is our lives or thine.' Then she looked
for one moment in front of her, the moon full on her face, and dropped
quietly over. And I heard the splash and the rush through the water, as
the alligators seized their meat, even as I have often heard it. But
while the moon was on her face, I knew her."
"Who was she?" I whispered.
"Lalusini, the daughter of that Great One, the founder of all nations.
Thine _inkosikazi_, Untuswa."
"And the men, who were they?"
"They were chief among the King's slayers."
"Their names? Did you not know them, Gegesa?"
"Did I not know them? Ah, ah! who is there I do not know?" And she
told me the names of all four, and I laid them up in my memory; for I
thought how I would have those slayers let down by thongs over the edge
of the rock so that the alligators might eat them piece by piece--might
crunch off first a foot, then a leg, and so on, as they dangled there.
Oh, what vengeance should be mine!
"But how do I know this is true, thou witch?" I said. "How can I tell
it is not all a made-up story?"
"What have I to gain by making it up? Have I not rather to gain by not
telling it? Go home, Untuswa, and be happy with your new wives; they
are young and bright-eyed, and round, as I was once. _Yau_! Rest
content now you know Lalusini can never return. A returning
_inkosikazi_ is not always welcome; ha, ha!"