wife and appear before the army, not in the uniform of a general, but
clad in a white robe, and carry, not the broad spear, but a cross of
wood. Swiftly the strange story flew from mouth to mouth, yet it was not
altogether believed till it chanced that one day when he was reviewing a
regiment, a soldier who was drunk with beer openly insulted the prince,
calling him "a coward who worshipped a coward."

Now men held their breaths, waiting to see this fool led away to die by
torture of the ant-heap or some other dreadful doom. But the prince only
answered:

"Soldier, you are drunk, therefore I forgive you your words. Whether He
Whom you blaspheme will forgive you, I know not. Get you gone!"

The warriors stared and murmured, for by those words, wittingly or
unwittingly, their general had confessed his faith, and that day they
made ribald songs about him in the camp. But on the morrow when they
learned how that the man whom the prince spared had been seized by
a lion and taken away as he sat at night with his companions in the
bivouac, his mouth full of boasting of his own courage in offering
insult to the prince and the new faith, then they looked at each other
askance and said little more of the matter. Doubtless it was chance, and
yet this Spirit Whom the Messenger preached was one of Whom it seemed
wisest not to speak lightly.

But still the trouble grew, for by now the witch-doctors, with Hokosa
at the head of them, were frightened for their place and power, and
fomented it both openly and in secret. Of the women they asked what
would become of them when men were allowed to take but one wife? Of the
heads of kraals, how they would grow wealthy when their daughters ceased