But, lo! when King Ma’anda and his companions turned to discover what effect this scene had upon the old man and the seated warriors, they found that they had vanished, and that not even the slightest trace of them was left; at which the three stared at one another in the wildest astonishment. Then the king, recovering from his surprise, fell upon the ground and wept aloud, calling upon the name of Kintu; and the king’s mother and the peasant added their cries to his, and wept as if their hearts would break. But no blood-hating Kintu answered to them, only the tall deep woods echoed their cries, “Kintu, Kintu-u, Kintu-u-u-u,” as if in mockery of their sorrow. All night they kept watch, breaking out now and then into moaning and wailings for the last loss of the great father of Uganda. But Kintu, after this scene, never more appeared in Uganda, and to this day he has not been seen or heard of by any man. After Ma’anda’s death succeeded Msangi, Namugara, and Chabagu. In the time of this latter king flourished Wakinguru, a hero, whose name history, cherished within the memories of admiring men, has preserved for his unparalleled deeds. When Chabagu invaded Usoga, it appears that the Wasoga were very numerous, and, having as yet never been reduced to submission by the Waganda, very bold and fearless. The people of Usoga mocked the victorious Waganda until Chabagu was roused to declare war upon them; and to show them the prowess of the people whom they had so insolently defied Chabagu permitted Wakinguru to cross over to Jinja alone, that he might exhibit the warlike qualities of his nation in his own person. Wakinguru, we are led to believe, was a man of herculean frame, and we may well suppose him gifted with more than common courage. He marched to the height of Jinja with a large bundle of spears on his back, and his shield was so ample and thick that it required two ordinary men to lift it. Arriving at a place where he could command a clear view of the Wasoga camp, he shouted out a bold challenge to any man, or to all at once, to approach him, that he might show them what manner of men were those who had been so frequently insulted by them. Several of the Wasoga, responding to the challenge, rushed up to try his mettle, but Wakinguru’s spears were so formidable, and his strength so great, that long before any of the foe came within distance permitting an ordinary man to launch his spear, they were all dead men. The hero then plucked his spears from the corpses, and prepared to meet the next party, who came up in hot haste to avenge the deaths of their friends. Again the redoubtable man launched his fatal spears, and again the Wasoga had to lament the deaths of their champions.