dismissed on this understanding, Cetywayo sent for the
woman, and accused her of misconduct with the Basuto, the
punishment of which, if proved, would be death. She denied
this vehemently, with protestations and tears. He insisted,
but, looking up at a tree almost denuded of leaves which
grew close by, said, significantly, 'Take care that not a
leaf remains on that tree by the morning.' The woman
understood the metaphor, and in an hour or two, aided by
other strapping Zulu females, attacked the unfortunate
Basuto and killed him with clubs. But Cetywayo having thus,
like the monkey in the fable, employed a cat's paw to do his
dirty work, began to think the Basuto's untimely death might
have an ugly appearance in my eyes, so gave orders in my
presence that, as a punishment, six of the women who had
killed the Basuto should also be put to death. This was too
much for me, knowing as I did, all that had passed. I
reproached Cetywayo for his cruelty, and declared I would
leave Zululand without trading there, and without making him
the present he expected. I also said I should take care the
great English 'Inkose' (the Governor of Natal) should hear
of his conduct and the reason of my return. Cetywayo was
then on friendly terms with the English, and being impressed
by my threats, he reconsidered his orders, and spared the
lives of the women."

I do not propose to follow out all the details of the boundary dispute
between Cetywayo and the Transvaal, or to comment on the different
opinions held on the point by the various authorities, English and
Zulu. The question has been, for the moment, settled by the Transvaal
Convention, and is besides a most uninteresting one to the general