“Thou sayest truly,” said the old man slowly and deliberately; “and Kintu was good. He injured no man, beast, bird, or insect, and no living thing had cause to complain of him. He never even struck a man with a stick, or caused him pain in any manner, for he loved his children like a kind father should; but his sons grew exceedingly wicked, headstrong, disobedient, and utterly unmanageable. They loved to shed blood. They first slaughtered beasts, and became so accustomed to blood that at last they slew their brothers and sisters. They became so madly in love with blood that they wished to shed that of their good father Kintu. Then Kintu saw that Uganda was no more a land for him, that it was unfit for him to live in, and, oh! when he looked on the face of the land at first, it was so fair and pure that it delighted his eyes, but when it became red and filthy with the blood of innocent men and women and children, it became hateful to Kintu, and he departed from the horrid, cruel land. From Chwa down to Ma’anda each king has sought to find Kintu, though in vain. Thou, Ma’anda, shalt see Kintu face to face, and thou shalt hear him speak; but first I have somewhat to tell thee from him. Listen, and mark well his words—but tell me who was that man that followed thee hither?” he suddenly asked. Ma’anda, well pleased that he of all his predecessors was selected to see and converse with Kintu, had become all attention, and every fibre and nerve quivered to hear the prelude to the introduction; but when interrogated by the old man again upon a subject already satisfactorily answered, he asked impatiently, “Why dost thou ask again when I have already told thee that no man followed me here, because no man could have known whither I went?” “But I,” said the old man calmly, “saw a man follow thee step by step. Why didst thou let him come, when I expressly told thee thou must come only with thy mother and this peasant?” The king’s mother and the peasant declared that Ma’anda had spoken truly, and that no man followed them. “I saw him behind that tree listening. Behold! there he stands,” said the old man, suddenly pointing to the Katekiro, who, perceiving that he was discovered, now came forward. The three turned their eyes on hearing the words of the old man, and at the sight of the Katekiro, Ma’anda grew desperately enraged, and with passionate fury he seized his spear, launched it, and pierced his faithful servant through the heart, who with a short, sharp shriek, fell dead at his feet.