Our warriors were squatting on the ground when the command was given for the return to Lebombo. They rose at once, and Labotsibeni's watch-dogs also sprang to their feet. These expected that we were about to attack, and so were greatly puzzled when our army turned about and started off slowly for Lebombo. Their silence lasted only a few minutes, however. Then they broke out into revilings and taunts that would have made a saint fight. Our impis grew more and more sullen under this volley of insults, and went away from Zombode with murder in their hearts and the feeling that they would have many explanations to make when they returned to the home kraals. I was sorry that our bluff had failed, but very thankful that we had pulled through without bloodshed. Tuys walked along beside me, silent and thoughtful. When Lebombo's kraals came in sight he told me what was on his mind. "Owen, my lad, I know these people," he said, "and I'm afraid that your peaceful ruse will cause trouble. The Swazi warrior is a proud man and does not like to be called names. I pray that we may get through the next few days without an explosion." I made light of his forebodings, though probably my attitude was due to our having withdrawn without a battle. Had I known what was going to happen, I would not have been so lighthearted. Tzaneen and Sebuza were angry at our failure. The prince, of course, was indignant that we had accepted the insults of Labotsibeni's troops and was quite rude to Oom Tuys and me for preventing the capture of Zombode. "It would have all been over by this time," he said, "and I would be king! My impis have lost faith in me for permitting you white men to do this thing. I shall lose my warriors. They will go over to Labotsibeni and Lomwazi because they are not afraid." Then I explained to him and his mother about our plan to send a message to Labotsibeni on the following day. When they heard that we white men would guard the old queen and escort her to safety, they thought that it might succeed. Sebuza, though, very pointedly mentioned the fact that according to custom the old queen ought to die. I protested that she was too old and feeble to do him any harm after he became king, and he agreed that I was right. He was insistent, however, that Lomwazi should die. He felt that Lomwazi would be a menace to the throne and, it seems, had some old scores he wanted to pay off. We argued over this for some time, and Sebuza, on the urging of his mother, finally came around to our point of view. Yet I had the feeling that we would have to move fast to prevent an accident happening to Lomwazi. I little realized that all this talk was for nothing. My nice little plan, which sounded so simple, would never even be tried!