“Have you more to say about this business, Umbezi?  I would hear all before I answer you.”

“Only this, Saduko,” replied Umbezi, who had risen to his feet and was shaking like a reed.  “I did no more than any other father would have done.  Masapo is a very powerful chief, one who will be a good stick for me to lean on in my old age.  Mameena declared that she wished to marry him—­”

“He lies!” screeched the “Old Cow.”  “What Mameena said was that she had no will towards marriage with any Zulu in the land, so I suppose she is looking after a white man,” and she leered in my direction.  “She said, however, that if her father wished to marry her to Masapo, she must be a dutiful daughter and obey him, but that if blood and trouble came of that marriage, let it be on his head and not on hers.”

“Would you also stick your claws into me, cat?” shouted Umbezi, catching the old woman a savage cut across the back with the light dancing-stick which he still held in his hand, whereon she fled away screeching and cursing him.

“Oh, Saduko,” he went on, “let not your ears be poisoned by these falsehoods.  Mameena never said anything of the sort, or if she did it was not to me.  Well, the moment that my daughter had consented to take Masapo as her husband his people drove a hundred and twenty of the most beautiful cattle over the hill, and would you have had me refuse them, Saduko?  I am sure that when you have seen them you will say that I was quite right to accept such a splendid lobola in return for one sharp-tongued girl.  Remember, Saduko, that although you had promised a hundred head, that is less by twenty, at the time you did not own one, and where you were to get them from I could not guess.  Moreover,” he added with a last, desperate, imaginative effort, for I think he saw that his arguments were making no impression, “some strangers who called here told me that both you and Macumazahn had been killed by certain evil-doers in the mountains.  There, I have spoken, and, Saduko, if you now have cattle, why, on my part, I have another daughter, not quite so good-looking perhaps, but a much better worker in the field.  Come and drink a sup of beer, and I will send for her.”

“Stop talking about your other daughter and your beer and listen to me,” replied Saduko, looking at the assegai which he had thrown to the ground so ominously that I set my foot on it.  “I am now a greater chief than the boar Masapo.  Has Masapo such a bodyguard as these Eaters-up-of-Enemies?” and he jerked his thumb backwards towards the serried lines of fierce-faced Amangwane who stood listening behind us.  “Has Masapo as many cattle as I have, whereof those which you see are but a tithe brought as a lobola gift to the father of her who had been promised to me as wife?  Is Masapo Panda’s friend?  I think that I have heard otherwise.  Has Masapo just conquered a countless tribe by his courage and his wit?  Is Masapo young and of high blood, or is he but an old, low-born boar of the mountains?