Finished | Page 4

of course, much is added for the purposes of romance, the
main facts of history have been adhered to with some faithfulness.
With these the author became acquainted a full generation ago, Fortune
having given him a part in the events that preceded the Zulu War.
Indeed he believes that with the exception of Colonel Phillips, who, as
a lieutenant, commanded the famous escort of twenty-five policemen,
he is now the last survivor of the party who, under the leadership of Sir
Theophilus Shepstone, or Sompesu as the natives called him from the
Zambesi to the Cape, were concerned in the annexation of the
Transvaal in 1877. Recently also he has been called upon as a public
servant to revisit South Africa and took the opportunity to travel

through Zululand, in order to refresh his knowledge of its people, their
customs, their mysteries, and better to prepare himself for the writing
of this book. Here he stood by the fatal Mount of Isandhlawana which,
with some details of the battle, is described in these pages, among the
graves of many whom once he knew, Colonels Durnford, Pulleine and
others. Also he saw Ulundi's plain where the traces of war still lie thick,
and talked with an old Zulu who fought in the attacking Impi until it
crumbled away before the fire of the Martinis and shells from the heavy
guns. The battle of the Wall of Sheet Iron, he called it, perhaps because
of the flashing fence of bayonets.
Lastly, in a mealie patch, he found the spot on which the corn grows
thin, where King Cetewayo breathed his last, poisoned without a doubt,
as he has known for many years. It is to be seen at the Kraal, ominously
named Jazi or, translated into English, "Finished." The tragedy
happened long ago, but even now the quiet-faced Zulu who told the tale,
looking about him as he spoke, would not tell it all. "Yes, as a young
man, I was there at the time, but I do not remember, I do not know--the
Inkoosi Lundanda (i.e. this Chronicler, so named in past years by the
Zulus) stands on the very place where the king died--His bed was on
the left of the door-hole of the hut," and so forth, but no certain word as
to the exact reason of this sudden and violent death or by whom it was
caused. The name of that destroyer of a king is for ever hid.
In this story the actual and immediate cause of the declaration of war
against the British Power is represented as the appearance of the white
goddess, or spirit of the Zulus, who is, or was, called Nomkubulwana
or Inkosazana-y-Zulu, i.e. the Princess of Heaven. The exact
circumstances which led to this decision are not now ascertainable,
though it is known that there was much difference of opinion among
the Zulu Indunas or great captains, and like the writer, many believe
that King Cetewayo was personally averse to war against his old allies,
the English.
The author's friend, Mr. J. Y. Gibson, at present the representative of
the Union in Zululand, writes in his admirable history: "There was a
good deal of discussion amongst the assembled Zulu notables at Ulundi,
but of how counsel was swayed it is not possible now to obtain a
reliable account."
The late Mr. F. B. Fynney, F.R.G.S., who also was his friend in days

bygone, and, with the exception of Sir Theophilus Shepstone, who
perhaps knew the Zulus and their language better than any other official
of his day, speaking of this fabled goddess wrote: "I remember that just
before the Zulu War Nomkubulwana appeared revealing something or
other which had a great effect throughout the land."
The use made of this strange traditional Guardian Angel in the
following tale is not therefore an unsupported flight of fancy, and the
same may be said of many other incidents, such as the account of the
reading of the proclamation annexing the Transvaal at Pretoria in 1877,
which have been introduced to serve the purposes of the romance.
Mameena, who haunts its pages, in a literal as well as figurative sense,
is the heroine of _Child of Storm,_ a book to which she gave her own
poetic title.
1916. THE AUTHOR.

CHAPTER I

ALLAN QUATERMAIN MEETS ANSCOMBE

You, my friend, into whose hand, if you live, I hope these scribblings
of mine will pass one day, must well remember the 12th of April of the
year 1877 at Pretoria. Sir Theophilus Shepstone, or Sompesu, for I
prefer to call him by his native name, having investigated the affairs of
the Transvaal for a couple of months or so, had made up his mind to
annex that country to the British Crown. It so happened