"No, King, I cannot make guns, but I can mend them."

"If I paid you well, White Man, would you stop here at my kraal, and
mend guns for me?" asked Cetywayo anxiously.

"It might depend on the pay," answered Hadden; "but for awhile I am
tired of work, and wish to rest. If the king gives me the permission
to hunt for which I asked, and men to go with me, then when I return
perhaps we can bargain on the matter. If not, I will bid the king
farewell, and journey to Natal."

"In order to make report of what he has seen and learned here," muttered
Cetywayo.

At this moment the talk was interrupted, for the soldiers who had led
away the old Induna returned at speed, and prostrated themselves before
the king.

"Is he dead?" he asked.

"He has travelled the king's bridge," they answered grimly; "he died
singing a song of praise of the king."

"Good," said Cetywayo, "that stone shall hurt my feet no more. Go, tell
the tale of its casting away to Sompseu and to the Queen's Induna in
Natal," he added with bitter emphasis.

"_Baba!_ Hear our Father speak. Listen to the rumbling of the Elephant,"
said the Indunas taking the point, while one bolder than the rest added:
"Soon we will tell them another tale, the white Talking Ones, a red