It seemed still and small, yet it came to them faintly like the voice of one speaking from a mountain-top in a time of snow:-- "Mourn, children of Makedama!" And all the thousands of the people--men, women, and children--echoed his words in a thunder of sound, crying:-- "Mourn, children of Makedama!" Again he cried:-- "Mourn, people of the Langeni, mourn with the whole world!" And the thousands answered:-- "Mourn, people of the Langeni, mourn with the whole world!" A third time came his voice:-- "Mourn, children of Makedama, mourn, people of the Langeni, mourn with the whole world! "Howl, ye warriors; weep, ye women; beat your breasts, ye maidens; sob, ye little children! "Drink of the water of tears, cover yourselves with the dust of affliction.
"Mourn, O tribe of the Langeni, because the Mother of the Heavens is no more.
"Mourn, children of Makedama, because the Spirit of Fruitfulness is no more.
"Mourn, O ye people, because the Lion of the Zulu is left so desolate.
"Let your tears fall as the rain falls, let your cries be as the cries of women who bring forth.
"For sorrow is fallen like the rain, the world has conceived and brought forth death.
"Great darkness is upon us, darkness and the shadow of death.
"The Lion of the Zulu wanders and wanders in desolation, because the Mother of the Heavens is no more.
"Who shall bring him comfort?
There is comfort in the crying of his children.
"Mourn, people of the Langeni; let the voice of your mourning beat against the skies and rend them.
"Ou-ai! Ou-ai! Ou-ai!" Thus sang the old man, my father Makedama, far down in the deeps of the cleft.

He sang it in a still, small voice, but, line after line, his song was caught up by the thousands who stood on the slopes above, and thundered to the heavens till the mountains shook with its sound.
Moreover, the noise of their crying opened the bosom of a heavy rain-cloud that had gathered as they mourned, and the rain fell in great slow drops, as though the sky also wept, and with the rain came lightning and the roll of thunder.
Chaka listened, and large tears coursed down his cheeks, whose heart was easily stirred by the sound of song.

Now the rain hissed fiercely, making as it were a curtain about the thousands of the people; but still their cry went up through the rain, and the roll of the thunder was lost in it.

Presently there came a hush, and I looked to the right.

There, above the heads of the people, coming over the brow of the hill, were the plumes of warriors, and in their hands gleamed a hedge of spears.
I looked to the left; there also I saw the plumes of warriors dimly through the falling rain, and in their hands a hedge of spears.