When the mists had vanished and the air was warm with the sun, the army of Sigwe marched from the pass heading for the great mountain.  As they drew near they saw that the Umpondwana were much terrified at the sight of them, for from all the kraals, of which there were many on the slopes of the mountain, they ran hither and thither like ants about a broken nest, carrying their goods and children upon their shoulders, and driving herds of cattle in towards the central stronghold.  Noting this, Sigwe halted and sent heralds forward to say that he came in peace and not in war, and he desired to speak with their chief.  In less than two hours the heralds returned, bringing with them some of the headmen of the Umpondwana, who stared round with frightened eyes, for they did not believe that any general would come upon a message of peace with so many regiments.  When the indaba was set Sigwe told them his name and tribe, of both of which they had heard, and then, before speaking of his business, asked which of them was the chief of the Umpondwana.

“Alas!” answered an old man, “we are in sore trouble here, and wander in the darkness, for our chief, who was named Koraanu, died two days ago of the small-pox which has raged among us for many months, leaving no children behind him, for the sickness killed them also.  Moreover, we are suffering from a great drought, for as you may see, the veldt is still brown, and there is no green upon the cornfields, and if rain does not fall soon famine will follow the sickness, and then it will only need that the Zulus should follow the famine to make an end of us once and for all.”

“It seems that your tribe must have sinned deeply and brought down upon itself the curse of the spirits of its ancestors,” said Sigwe, when they had done their melancholy tale, “that so many misfortunes should overtake you.  Tell me now, who by right is ruler of the Umpondwana?”

“We do not know, chief,” they answered, “or rather, we cannot tell if our ruler is alive or dead, and if she is dead then none are left of the true blood.  She was a small woman, but very pretty and full of wisdom as a mealie-cob with grains of corn, for in all this country there was no doctoress or diviner like to her.  Her name was Sihamba Ngenyanga, the Wanderer-by-Moonlight, which name was given her when she was little, because of her habit of walking in the dark alone, and she was the only child of our late chief’s inkosikaas, a princess of the Swazis, the father of that lord, Koraanu, who lies dead of the small-pox.  But when this chief died and Sihamba was called upon to rule our tribe, quarrels arose between her and the indunas of the tribe, for she was a very headstrong woman.