When at last he spoke, it was one word, "Go!" not three words, "Take him away." So I went yet living, and with me the councillors, leaving the king alone.
I went with a heavy heart, my father, for of all the evil sights that I have seen it seemed to me that this was the most evil--that the Amaboona should be slaughtered thus treacherously, and that the impis should be sent out treacherously to murder those who were left of them, together with their women and children.

Ay, and they slew--six hundred of them did they slay--yonder in Weenen, the land of weeping.
Say, my father, why does the Umkulunkulu who sits in the Heavens above allow such things to be done on the earth beneath?
I have heard the preaching of the white men, and they say that they know all about Him--that His names are Power and Mercy and Love.

Why, then, does He suffer these things to be done--why does He suffer such men as Chaka and Dingaan to torment the people of the earth, and in the end pay them but one death for all the thousands that they have given to others?
Because of the wickedness of the peoples, you say; but no, no, that cannot be, for do not the guiltless go with the guilty--ay, do not the innocent children perish by the hundred?
Perchance there is another answer, though who am I, my father, that I, in my folly, should strive to search out the way of the Unsearchable?
Perchance it is but a part of the great plan, a little piece of that pattern of which I spoke--the pattern on the cup that holds the waters of His wisdom.

Wow! I do not understand, who am but a wild man, nor have I found more knowledge in the hearts of you tamed white people.

You know many things, but of these you do not know: you cannot tell us what we were an hour before birth, nor what we shall be an hour after death, nor why we were born, nor why we die.