"_Hau_! A dog-chief. _Nkose_! We hail thee, Nanzicele, chief of the dogs!" roared some; while others, more infuriated than the rest, began to crowd in upon the little knot of police. Before the latter could even bring their rifles to the present, Madula rose, with both hands outspread. Like magic the tumult was stayed at the gesture, though deep-toned mutterings still rolled through the crowd like the threatening of distant thunder. The chief, Madula, was an elderly man, tall and powerfully built. Like the police sergeant he was of the "Abezantzi," the "people from below"-- i.e. those from lower down the country, who came up with Umzilikazi, and who constituted the aristocratic order of the Matabele nation, being of pure Zulu parentage; whereas many of his tribal followers were not; hence the haughty contempt with which the police sergeant treated the menacing attitude of the crowd. Standing there; his shaven head-- crowned with the shiny ring--thrown back in the easy unconscious dignity of command; his tall erect frame destitute of clothing save the _mutya_ round the loins--of adornment save for a string of symbolical wooden beads, the savage chieftain showed to immeasurable advantage as contrasted with the cheap swagger of the drilled and uniformed convert to the new civilisation who confronted him. Now he spoke. "Hearken, Nanzicele. Here we have none of the King's cattle. All we have is our own. When we sent in such of the King's cattle as were among us, we were told to send in more. We asked for time to search and see if there were a few more that had been overlooked, and we were granted time. Now we have searched and there are no more. If there are no more we can send no more. Can anything be clearer than that?" A full-throated shout of assent went up from the young men. Their chief had spoken, therefore there was an end of the matter. Nanzicele and his police could now go home, and go empty handed. But Nanzicele had no intention of doing anything of the sort. "Then that is your `word,' Madula," he said. "You will send no cattle?" "Have I not spoken?" returned the chief. "_Whau_! The Government must employ queer messengers if it sends men who cannot understand plain words. If there are no King's cattle for me to send, how can I send any? Is not that `word' plain enough, Nanzicele?" And again a shout of uproarious delight went up from the young men. "There is a plainer `word,'" retorted the police sergeant, "and that is the `word' of the Government. All the cattle in the country are King's cattle, therefore the cattle of Madula are King's cattle, and as Madula will not send them in I am here to take them. Fare ye well, children of Madula. You have resisted the arm of the Government, and you have insulted its mouth. Fare ye well;" and there was a volume of threatening significance in the tone.