grandfather was chief (Mambo, he called it), the natives of all
that part of South Africa rose against the white men--Portuguese, I
suppose--who still worked the gold there. They massacred them and their
slaves by thousands, driving them up from the southward, where Lobengula
rules now, to the Zambesi by which the Portuguese hoped to escape to the
coast. At length a remnant of them, not more than about two hundred men
and women, arrived at the stronghold called Bambatse, where the Molimo
now lives in a great ruin built by the ancients upon an impregnable
mountain which overhangs the river. With them they brought an enormous
quantity of gold, all the stored-up treasure of the land which they were
trying to carry off. But although they reached the river they could not
escape by it, since the natives, who pursued them in thousands, watched
day and night in canoes, and the poor fugitives had no boats. Therefore
it came about that they were shut up in this fortress which it was
impossible to storm, and there slowly perished of starvation.

"When it was known that they were all dead, the natives who had followed
them from the south, and who wanted blood and revenge, not gold, which
was of no use to them, went away; but the old priest's forefather who
knew the secret entrance to the place, and who had been friendly to
the Portuguese, forced his way in and there, amidst the dead, found
one woman living, but mad with grief--a young and beautiful girl, the
daughter of the Portuguese lord or captain. He gave her food, but in
the night, when some strength had returned to her, she left him, and
at daybreak he found her standing on the peak that overhangs the river,
dressed all in white.

"He called some of his councillors, and they tried to persuade her to
come down from the rock, but she answered, 'No, her betrothed and all
her family and friends were dead, and it was her will to follow them.'