“King,” answered their spokesman, “we are captains of the Nobambe, the Nodwenge, and the Isangu regiments whom thou didst send to destroy the chief, Madaku and his people, who dwell far away in the swamp land to the north near where the Great River runs into the sea. King, we could not come at this chief because he fled away on rafts and in boats, he and his people, and we lost our path among the reeds where again and again we were ambushed, and many of us sank in the swamps and were drowned. Also, we found no food, and were forced to live upon our shields,” and he held up a gnawed fragment in his hand. “So we perished by hundreds, and of all who went forth but twenty-one times ten remain alive.” When Dingaan heard this he groaned, for his arms had been defeated and three of his best regiments destroyed. But Rachel laughed aloud, the terrible laugh at which all who heard it shivered. “Did I not say,” she asked, “that Heaven would pour out its vengeance in plenty because of the blood that runs between the Spirit of the Inkosazana and her people of the Zulus?” “Truly this curse works fast and well,” exclaimed Dingaan. Then, turning to the men, he shouted: “Be gone, you starved rats, you cowards who do not know how to fight, and be thankful that the Great Elephant (Chaka) is dead, for surely he would have fed you upon shields until you perished.” So these captains crept away also. Ere they were well gone a man appeared craving audience, a fat man who wore a woeful countenance, for tears ran down his bloated cheeks. Dingaan knew him well, for every week he saw him, and sometimes oftener. “What is it, Movo, keeper of the kine,” he asked anxiously, “that you break in on me thus at my Council?” “O King,” answered the fat man, “pardon me, but, O King, my tidings are so sad that I availed myself of my privilege, and pushed past the guards at the gate.” “Those who bear ill news ever run quickly,” grunted the King. “Stop that weeping and out with it, Movo.” “Shaker of the Earth! Eater up of Enemies!” said Movo, “thou thyself art eaten up, or at least thy cattle are, the cattle that I love. A sore sickness has fallen on the great herd, the royal herd, the white herd with the twisted horns, and,” here he paused to sob, “a thousand of them are dead, and many more are sick. Soon there will be no herd left,” and he wept outright. Now Dingaan leapt up in his wrath and struck the man so sharply with the shaft of the spear he held that it broke upon his head. “Fat fool that you are,” he exclaimed. “What have you done to my cattle? Speak, or you shall be slain for an evil-doer who has bewitched them.” “Is it a crime to be fat, O King,” answered the indignant Movo, rubbing his skull, “when others are so much fatter?” and he looked reproachfully at Dingaan’s enormous person. “Can I help it if a thousand of thy oxen are now but hides for shields?”