Now,
the watchers saw all the cunning of his fight, and those of them who
hated Jikiza shouted aloud. But others were silent.
Slowly Jikiza gathered himself from the ground, wondering if he were
still alive, and as he rose he grasped the little axe of Umslopogaas,
and, looking at it, he wept. But Umslopogaas held up the great Groan-
Maker, the iron chieftainess, and examined its curved points of blue
steel, the gouge that stands behind it, and the beauty of its haft,
bound about with wire of brass, and ending in a knob like the knob of
a stick, as a lover looks upon the beauty of his bride. Then before
all men he kissed the broad blade and cried aloud:--
"Greeting to thee, my Chieftainess, greeting to thee, Wife of my
youth, whom I have won in war. Never shall we part, thou and I, and
together will we die, thou and I, for I am not minded that others
should handle thee when I am gone."
Thus he cried in the hearing of men, then turned to Jikiza, who stood
weeping, because he had lost all.
"Where now is your pride, O Unconquered?" laughed Umslopogaas. "Fight
on. You are as well armed as I was a while ago, when I did not fear to
stand before you."
Jikiza looked at him for a moment, then with a curse he hurled the
little axe at him, and, turning, fled swiftly towards the gates of the
cattle kraal.
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