Oh! he shall not die quickly as you will."
"I wish I could get a chance at him," I muttered, for even in this
solemn moment I could cultivate no Christian spirit towards Imbozwi.
Feeling that he was honest after all, I shook old Babemba's hand and
gave him the letters I had written, asking him to try and get them to
the coast. Then we started on our last walk.
The Zulu hunters were already outside the fence, seated on the ground,
chatting and taking snuff. I wondered if this was because they really
believed in Mavovo's confounded Snake, or from bravado, inspired by
the innate courage of their race. When they saw me they sprang to
their feet and, lifting their right hands, gave me a loud and hearty
salute of "Inkoosi! Baba! Inkoosi! Macumazana!" Then, at a signal from
Mavovo, they broke into some Zulu war-chant, which they kept up till
we reached the stakes. Sammy, too, broke into a chant, but one of
quite a different nature.
"Be quiet!" I said to him. "Can't you die like a man?"
"No, indeed I cannot, Mr.
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