before you speak, I and those who stand with me would bring this to your mind.  My mother, Umqumbazi, is your Inkosikazi, your head-wife, and therefore, according to our law, I, her eldest son, should be your heir.  Moreover, when you fled to the Boers before the fall of him who sat in your place before you [Dingaan], did not they, the white Amabunu, ask you which amongst your sons was your heir, and did you not point me out to the white men?  And thereon did not the Amabunu clothe me in a dress of honour because I was the King to be?  But now of late the mother of Umbelazi has been whispering in your ear, as have others”—­and he looked at Saduko and some of Umbelazi’s brethren—­“and your face has grown cold towards me, so cold that many say that you will point out Umbelazi to be King after you and stamp on my name.  If this is so, my father, tell me at once, that I may know what to do.”

Having finished this speech, which certainly did not lack force and dignity, Cetewayo sat down again, awaiting the answer in sullen silence.  But, making none, Panda looked at Umbelazi, who, on rising, was greeted with a great cheer, for although Cetewayo had the larger following in the land, especially among the distant chiefs, the Zulus individually loved Umbelazi more, perhaps because of his stature, beauty and kindly disposition—­physical and moral qualities that naturally appeal to a savage nation.

“My father,” he said, “like my brother, Cetewayo, I await your word.  Whatever you may have said to the Amabunu in haste or fear, I do not admit that Cetewayo was ever proclaimed your heir in the hearing of the Zulu people.  I say that my right to the succession is as good as his, and that it lies with you, and you alone, to declare which of us shall put on the royal kaross in days that my heart prays may be distant.  Still, to save bloodshed, I am willing to divide the land with Cetewayo” (here both Panda and Cetewayo shook their heads and the audience roared “Nay"), “or, if that does not please him, I am willing to meet Cetewayo man to man and spear to spear and fight till one of us be slain.”

“A safe offer!” sneered Cetewayo, “for is not my brother named ‘Elephant,’ and the strongest warrior among the Zulus?  No, I will not set the fortunes of those who cling to me on the chance of a single stab, or on the might of a man’s muscles.  Decide, O father; say which of the two of us is to sit at the head of your kraal after you have gone over to the Spirits and are but an ancestor to be worshipped.”

Now, Panda looked much disturbed, as was not wonderful, since, rushing out from the fence behind which they had been listening, Umqumbazi, Cetewayo’s mother, whispered into one of his ears, while Umbelazi’s mother whispered into the other.  What advice each of them gave I do not know, although obviously it was not the same advice, since the poor man rolled his eyes first at one and then at the other, and finally put his hands over his ears that he might hear no more.