No one ever reads prefaces now-a-days; why, therefore, should I write
one? may be fairly asked. Simply, I reply, to tell the reader that the
tale imperfectly related in these volumes is not a mere work of fiction.
It is based on a document sent to me by my brother, to whom I have
dedicated this work, and who has for many years been a resident of the
frontiers of Zulu Land.
The paper alluded to was transmitted by me, according to my brother's
desire, to His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of the French, together with
a map of Zulu Land, which had been exhibited in the Natal section of the
great Paris Exhibition of 1867. Both were graciously accepted and
acknowledged by His Imperial Majesty.
The country traversed by the daring men, whose adventures are related in
the following pages, is still to be explored. The ruins of the Fort of
Sofala, even now, lie buried in the sand, on the beach of the far away
Indian Ocean. The Arabs still search there for the smelted lumps of
gold, buried or lost by those of whose existence no other trace remains.
The mysterious slabs still exist, encrusted with the dirt and grime of
ages, on the mountain land of Gorongoza, and should my tale induce any
adventurous spirit to make an attempt to clear away the veil of mystery
which yet shrouds the remains of the Ruined Cities of Zulu Land, I can
only refer him to Captain Walmsley, from whom the primary information
contained herein was first gleaned, before whom the Missionary's
depositions were made, and who, for more than fifteen years of his life,
has well and honourably filled the difficult and dangerous position of
Government Agent, Magistrate, and Resident on the wild frontier of
savage Zulu Land.
Volume 1, Chapter I.