'And at the dawning the people came shouting, "Lousta is slain
in the night," and they came unto the hut of the man, and there
he lay asleep and by him was the red axe. Then did they remember
the war and say, "Lo! he hath of a surety slain his brother,"
and they would have taken and killed him, but he rose and fled
swiftly, and as he fleeted by he slew the woman.
'But death could not wipe out the evil she had done, and on him
rested the weight of all her sin. Therefore is he an outcast
and his name a scorn among his own people; for on him, and him
only, resteth the burden of her who betrayed. And, therefore,
does he wander afar, without a kraal and without an ox or a wife,
and therefore will he die afar like a stricken buck and his name
be accursed from generation to generation, in that the people
say that he slew his brother, Lousta, by treachery in the night-time.'
The old Zulu paused, and I saw that he was deeply agitated by
his own story. Presently he lifted his head, which he had bowed
to his breast, and went on:
'I was the man, Bougwan. Ou! I was that man, and now hark
thou! Even as I am so wilt thou be -- a tool, a plaything, an
ox of burden to carry the evil deeds of another. Listen! When
thou didst creep after the "Lady of the Night" I was hard upon
thy track.
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