gather themselves together even now against U'Cetywayo, as vultures
gather round a dying ox? The Zulus are not what they were to stand
against them. Yes, yes, they will come true, and mine is the song of a
But of these other words I will speak in their place.
I went to my mother. Presently she raised herself from the ground and
sat up with her hands over her face. The blood from the wound the
stick had made ran down her face on to her breast, and I wiped it away
with grass. She sat for a long while thus, while the child cried, the