When we arrived at Buno's kraal we found him walking excitedly up and down, the rifle in his hands. Standing near him were a score or more of his indunas, and we were struck at once by their look of apprehension. Lined up on either side of the wide roadway leading to the royal kraal were thousands of warriors. More than a dozen impis were in line, every man in his full war costume. Their knob-kerries were held at the ready, their shields across their bodies, and each had shifted his assegai to the position used in battle. The lines of savage warriors stretched away from the kraal for hundreds of yards. It was the first time I had ever seen the impis of the king on parade and it was a most impressive sight. There was a slight breeze and the white plumes on their heads danced in the sunlight. What struck me most was the splendid build and stature of these men. They were all six feet or more and their black skins fairly shone. Most of them wore leopard-skins caught about the waist and on one shoulder. My rapid inspection was broken by the king. He greeted us vociferously, and I immediately saw that he was on fire with the gin he had drunk. No sooner did he raise his hand in salutation than the impis gave the royal salute. Their deep shout ended with the crash of twenty thousand feet brought down together. The earth fairly shook. I realize now that this salute was a tribute to the cruelty of the ages. In just such a manner did the gladiators salute Nero with their "Morituri te salutamus!" A few moments after the salute I realized that these men were also about to die. "Come on, Oom Tuys, come and let the king see how well you can shoot!" Buno shouted. "I have provided the only targets worthy of your skill--you who are noted for your shooting among a race of white men who have conquered all with their rifles! I will shoot first, and then you shall beat me!" Then he turned suddenly to me. "And you, too, Mzaan Bakoor, little induna! You, too, shall shoot against the king! First I will shoot, then Oom Tuys, and then you. Each will shoot this many shots," and he held out four clips of five cartridges each. [Illustration: PRINCESSES AND THEIR MAID TAKING A MORNING BATH] [Illustration: YOUNG PRINCESSES AMIABLY ENGAGED IN HAIR-DRESSING These are of exceptionally high birth and of remarkable beauty. Either would probably be worth fifty head of cattle and could only be bought for that number. Women are the standard of currency among the Swazis, the average low-caste woman, if young and sound in limb, being worth five head of cattle. The price of women increases according to their birth and beauty] [Illustration: SWAZI GIRLS This picture shows the large navel which is common to most women, particularly to those of aristocratic birth] [Illustration: PUDANA, FAVORITE TO THE OLD QUEEN LABOTSIBENI