nada the lily(百合娜达)-第3节

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〃It　is　so；　Doctor；〃　answered　the　White　Man。　〃You　have　long　ears。〃

〃Yes；　my　white　father；　I　have　long　ears；　though　they　say　that　I　grow
deaf。　I　have　keen　eyes　also；　and　yet　I　cannot　see　your　face。　Let　me
hearken！　Let　me　look！〃

For　awhile　he　was　silent；　rocking　himself　to　and　fro；　then　he　spoke：
〃You　have　a　farm；　White　Man；　down　near　Pine　Town；　is　it　not？　Ah！　I
thought　soand　an　hour's　ride　from　your　farm　lives　a　Boer　with　four
fingers　only　on　his　right　hand。　There　is　a　kloof　on　the　Boer's　farm
where　mimosa…trees　grow。　There；　in　the　kloof；　you　shall　find　your　oxen
yes；　five　days'　journey　from　here　you　will　find　them　all。　I　say　all；
my　father；　except　three　onlythe　big　black　Africander　ox；　the　little
red　Zulu　ox　with　one　horn；　and　the　speckled　ox。　You　shall　not　find
these；　for　they　have　died　in　the　snow。　Send；　and　you　will　find　the
others。　No；　no！　I　ask　no　fee！　I　do　not　work　wonders　for　reward。　Why
should　I？　I　am　rich。〃

Now　the　White　Man　scoffed。　But　in　the　end；　so　great　is　the　power　of
superstition；　he　sent。　And　here　it　may　be　stated　that　on　the　eleventh
day　of　his　sojourn　at　the　kraal　of　Zweete；　those　whom　he　sent　returned
with　the　oxen；　except　the　three　only。　After　that　he　scoffed　no　more。
Those　eleven　days　he　spent　in　a　hut　of　the　old　man's　kraal；　and　every
afternoon　he　came　and　talked　with　him；　sitting　far　into　the　night。

On　the　third　day　he　asked　Zweete　how　it　was　that　his　left　hand　was
white　and　shrivelled；　and　who　were　Umslopogaas　and　Nada；　of　whom　he
had　let　fall　some　words。　Then　the　old　man　told　him　the　tale　that　is
set　out　here。　Day　by　day　he　told　some　of　it　till　it　was　finished。　It
is　not　all　written　in　these　pages；　for　portions　may　have　been
forgotten；　or　put　aside　as　irrelevant。　Neither　has　it　been　possible
for　the　writer　of　it　to　render　the　full　force　of　the　Zulu　idiom　nor　to
convey　a　picture　of　the　teller。　For；　in　truth；　he　acted　rather　than
told　his　story。　Was　the　death　of　a　warrior　in　question；　he　stabbed
with　his　stick；　showing　how　the　blow　fell　and　where；　did　the　story
grow　sorrowful；　he　groaned；　or　even　wept。　Moreover；　he　had　many
voices；　one　for　each　of　the　actors　in　his　tale。　This　man；　ancient　and
withered；　seemed　to　live　again　in　the　far　past。　It　was　the　past　that
spoke　to　his　listener；　telling　of　deeds　long　forgotten；　of　deeds　that
are　no　more　known。

Yet　as　he　best　may；　the　White　Man　has　set　down　the　substance　of　the
story　of　Zweete　in　the　spirit　in　which　Zweete　told　it。　And　because　the
history　of　Nada　the　Lily　and　of　those　with　whom　her　life　was
intertwined　moved　him　strangely；　and　in　many　ways；　he　has　done　more；
he　has　printed　it　that　others　may　judge　of　it。

And　now　his　part　is　played。　Let　him　who　was　named　Zweete；　but　who　had
another　name；　take　up　the　story。



CHAPTER　I

THE　BOY　CHAKA　PROPHESIES

You　ask　me；　my　father；　to　tell　you　the　tale　of　the　youth　of
Umslopogaas；　holder　of　the　iron　Chieftainess；　the　axe　Groan…maker；　who
was　named　Bulalio　the　Slaughterer；　and　of　his　love　for　Nada；　the　most
beautiful　of　Zulu　women。　It　is　long；　but　you　are　here　for　many　nights；
and；　if　I　live　to　tell　it；　it　shall　be　told。　Strengthen　your　heart；　my
father；　for　I　have　much　to　say　that　is　sorrowful；　and　even　now；　when　I
think　of　Nada　the　tears　creep　through　the　horn　that　shuts　out　my　old
eyes　from　light。

Do　you　know　who　I　am；　my　father？　You　do　not　know。　You　think　that　I　am
an　old；　old　witch…doctor　named　Zweete。　So　men　have　thought　for　many
years；　but　that　is　not　my　name。　Few　have　known　it；　for　I　have　kept　it
locked　in　my　breast；　lest；　thought　I　live　now　under　the　law　of　the
White　Man；　and　the　Great　Queen　is　my　chieftainess；　an　assegai　still
might　find　this　heart　did　any　know　my　name。

Look　at　this　hand；　my　fatherno；　not　that　which　is　withered　with
fire；　look　on　this　right　hand　of　mine。　You　see　it；　though　I　who　am
blind　cannot。　But　still；　within　me；　I　see　it　as　it　was　once。　Ay！　I　see
it　red　and　strongred　with　the　blood　of　two　kings。　Listen；　my　father；
bend　your　ear　to　me　and　listen。　I　am　Mopoah！　I　felt　you　start；　you
start　as　the　regiment　of　the　Bees　started　when　Mopo　walked　before
their　ranks；　and　from　the　assegai　in　his　hand　the　blood　of　Chaka＇1＇
dropped　slowly　to　the　earth。　I　am　Mopo　who　slew　Chaka　the　king。　I
killed　him　with　Dingaan　and　Umhlangana　the　princes；　but　the　wound　was
mine　that　his　life　crept　out　of；　and　but　for　me　he　would　never　have
been　slain。　I　killed　him　with　the　princes；　but　Dingaan；　I　and　one
other　slew　alone。

＇1＇　The　Zulu　Napoleon；　one　of　the　greatest　geniuses　and　most　wicked
　　　　men　who　ever　lived。　He　was　killed　in　the　year　1828；　having
　　　　slaughtered　more　than　a　million　human　beings。ED。

What　do　you　say？　〃Dingaan　died　by　the　Tongola。〃

Yes；　yes；　he　died；　but　not　there；　he　died　on　the　Ghost　Mountain；　he
lies　in　the　breast　of　the　old　Stone　Witch　who　sits　aloft　forever
waiting　for　the　world　to　perish。　But　I　also　was　on　the　Ghost　Mountain。
In　those　days　my　feet　still　could　travel　fast；　and　vengeance　would　not
let　me　sleep。　I　travelled　by　day；　and　by　night　I　found　him。　I　and
another；　we　killed　himah！　ah！

Why　do　I　tell　you　this？　What　has　it　to　do　with　the　loves　of
Umslopogaas　and　Nada　the　Lily？　I　will　tell　you。　I　stabbed　Chaka　for
the　sake　of　my　sister；　Baleka；　the　mother　of　Umslopogaas；　and　because
he　had　murdered　my　wives　and　children。　I　and　Umslopogaas　slew　Dingaan
for　the　sake　of　Nada；　who　was　my　daughter。

There　are　great　names　in　the　story；　my　father。　Yes；　many　have　heard
the　names：　when　the　Impis　roared　them　out　as　they　charged　in　battle；　I
have　felt　the　mountains　shake　and　seen　the　waters　quiver　in　their
sound。　But　where　are　they　now？　Silence　has　them；　and　the　white　men
write　them　down　in　books。　I　opened　the　gates　of　distance　for　the
holders　of　the　names。　They　passed　through　and　they　are　gone　beyond。　I
cut　the　strings　that　tied　them　to　the　world。　They　fell　off。　Ha！　ha！
They　fell　off！　Perhaps　they　are　falling　still；　perhaps　they　creep
about　their　desolate　kraals　in　the　skins　of　snakes。　I　wish　I　knew　the
snakes　that　I　might　crush　them　with　my　heel。　Yonder；　beneath　us；　at
the　burying　place　of　kings；　there　is　a　hole。　In　that　hole　lies　the
bones　of　Chaka；　the　king　who　died　for　Baleka。　Far　away　in　Zululand
there　is　a　cleft　upon　the　Ghost　Mountain。　At　the　foot　of　that　cleft
lie　the　bones　of　Dingaan；　the　king　who　died　for　Nada。　It　was　far　to
fall　and　he　was　heavy；　those　bones　of　his　are　broken　into　little
pieces。　I　went　to　see　them　when　the　vultures　and　the　jackals　had　done
their　work。　And　then　I　laughed　three　times　and　came　here　to　die。

All　that　is　long　ago；　and　I　have　not　died；　though　I　wish　to　die　and
follow　the　road　that　Nada　trod。　Perhaps　I　have　lived　to　tell　you　this
tale；　my　father；　that　you　may　repeat　it　to　the　white　men　if　you　will。
How　old　am　I？　Nay；　I　do　not　know。　Very；　very　old。　Had　Chaka　lived　he
would　have　been　as　old　as　I。＇2＇　None　are　living　whom　I　knew　when　I　was
a　boy。　I　am　so　old　that　I　must　hasten。　The　grass　withers；　and　the
winter　comes。　Yes；　while　I　speak　the　winter　nips　my　heart。　Well；　I　am
ready　to　sleep　in　the　cold；　and　perhaps　I　shall　awake　again　in　the
spring。

＇2＇　This　would　have　made　him　nearly　a　hundred　years　old；　an　age　rarely
　　　　attained　by　a　native。　The　writer　remembers　talking　to　an　aged　Zulu
　　　　woman；　however；　who　told　him　that　she　was　married　when　Chaka　was
　　　　king。ED。

Before　the　Zulus　were　a　peoplefor　I　will　begin　at　the　beginningI
was　born　of　the　Langeni　tribe。　We　were　not　a　large　tribe；　afterwards；
all　our　able…bodied　men　numbered　one　full　regiment　in　Chaka's　army；
perhaps　there　were　between　two　and　three　thousand　of　them；　but　they
were　brave。　Now　they　are　all　dead；　and　their　women　and　children　with
them；that　people　is　no　more。　It　is　gone　like　last　month's　moon；　how
it　went　I　will　tell　you　by…and…bye。

Our　tribe　lived　in　a　beautiful　open　country；　the　Boers；　whom　we　call
the　Amaboona；　are　there　now；　they　tell　me。　My　father；　Makedama；　was
chief　of　the　tribe；　and　his　kraal　was　built　on　the　crest　of　a　hill；
but　I　was　not　the　son　of　his　head　wife。　One　evening；　when　I　was　still
little；　standing　as　high　as　a　man's　elbow　only；　I　went　out　with　my
mother　below　the　cattle　kraal　to　see　the　cows　driven　in。　My　mother　was
very　fond　of　these　cows；　and　there　was　one　with　a　white　face　that
would　follow　her　about。　She　carried　my　little　sister　Baleka　riding　on
her　hip；　Baleka　was　a　baby　then。　We　walked　till　we　met　the　lads
driving　in　the　cows。　My　mother　called　the　white…faced　cow　and　gave　it
mealie　leaves　which　she　had　brought　with　her。　Then　the　boys　went　on
with　the　cattle；　but　the　white…faced　cow　stopped　by　my　mother。　She
said　that　she　would　bring　it　to　the　kraal　when　she　came　home。　My
mother　sat　down　on　the　grass　and　nursed　her　baby；　while　I　played　round
her；　and　the　cow　grazed。　Presently　we　saw　a　woman　walking　towards　us
across　the　plain。　She　walked　like　one　who　is　tired。　On　her　back　was　a
bundle　of　mats；　and　she　led　by　the　hand　a　boy　of　about　my　own　age；　but
bigger　and　stronger　than　I　was。　We　waited　a　long　while；　till　at　last
the　woman　came　up　to　us　and　sank　down　on　the　veldt；　for　she　was　very
weary。　We　saw　by　the　way　her　hair　was　dressed　that　she　was　not　of　our
tribe。

〃Greeting　to　you！〃　said　the　woman。

〃Good