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Nada the Lily by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard
page 21 of 393 (05%)

"What is your name, boy?" he said to me as a big rich man speaks to
one who is little and poor.

"Mopo is my name," I answered.

"And what is the name of your people?"

I told him the name of my tribe, the Langeni tribe.

"Very well, Mopo; now I will tell you my name. My name is Chaka, son
of Senzangacona, and my people are called the Amazulu. And I will tell
you something more. I am little to-day, and my people are a small
people. But I shall grow big, so big that my head will be lost in the
clouds; you will look up and you shall not see it. My face will blind
you; it will be bright like the sun; and my people will grow great
with me; they shall eat up the whole world. And when I am big and my
people are big, and we have stamped the earth flat as far as men can
travel, then I will remember your tribe--the tribe of the Langeni, who
would not give me and my mother a cup of milk when we were weary. You
see this gourd; for every drop it can hold the blood of a man shall
flow--the blood of one of your men. But because you gave me the water
I will spare you, Mopo, and you only, and make you great under me. You
shall grow fat in my shadow. You alone I will never harm, however you
sin against me; this I swear. But for that woman," and he pointed to
my mother, "let her make haste and die, so that I do not need to teach
her what a long time death can take to come. I have spoken." And he
ground his teeth and shook his stick towards us.

My mother stood silent awhile. Then she gasped out: "The little liar!
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