“Then it would seem that the Usutu are to blame,” said Panda.

“Upon what grounds do you say so, my father?” asked Cetewayo, springing up.  “Upon the testimony of this white man, who is well known to be the friend of Umbelazi and of his henchman Saduko, and who himself killed two of those who called me chief in the course of the fight?”

“Yes, Cetewayo,” I broke in, “because I thought it better that I should kill them than that they should kill me, whom they attacked quite unprovoked.”

“At any rate, you killed them, little White Man,” shouted Cetewayo, “for which cause your blood is forfeit.  Say, did Umbelazi give you leave to appear before the King accompanied by men armed with guns, when we who are his sons must come with sticks only?  If so, let him protect you!”

“That I will do if there is need!” exclaimed Umbelazi.

“Thank you, Prince,” I said; “but if there is need I will protect myself as I did yesterday,” and, cocking my double-barrelled rifle, I looked full at Cetewayo.

“When you leave here, then at least I will come even with you, Macumazahn!” threatened Cetewayo, spitting through his teeth, as was his way when mad with passion.

For he was beside himself, and wished to vent his temper on someone, although in truth he and I were always good friends.

“If so I shall stop where I am,” I answered coolly, “in the shadow of the King, your father.  Moreover, are you so lost in folly, Cetewayo, that you should wish to bring the English about your ears?  Know that if I am killed you will be asked to give account of my blood.”

“Aye,” interrupted Panda, “and know that if anyone lays a finger on Macumazana, who is my guest, he shall die, whether he be a common man or a prince and my son.  Also, Cetewayo, I fine you twenty head of cattle, to be paid to Macumazana because of the unprovoked attack which your men made upon him when he rightly slew them.”

“The fine shall be paid, my father,” said Cetewayo more quietly, for he saw that in threatening me he had pushed matters too far.

Then, after some more talk, Panda gave judgment in the cause, which judgment really amounted to nothing.  As it was impossible to decide which party was most to blame, he fined both an equal number of cattle, accompanying the fine with a lecture on their ill-behaviour, which was listened to indifferently.

After this matter was disposed of the real business of the meeting began.

Rising to his feet, Cetewayo addressed Panda.

“My father,” he said, “the land wanders and wanders in darkness, and you alone can give light for its feet.  I and my brother, Umbelazi, are at variance, and the quarrel is a great one, namely, as to which of us is to sit in your place when you are ‘gone down,’ when we call and you do not answer.  Some of the nation favour one of us and some favour the other, but you, O King, and you alone, have the voice of judgment.  Still,