You spring from a loftier stock, Slaughterer." "Yet I was well pleased with my fathering, old man," said Umslopogaas.
"The breed is good enough for me.

Say, then, whose son am I ?" Now I bent forward and whispered to him, yet, alas! not low enough.

"You are the son of the Black One who is dead, yea, sprung from the blood of Chaka and of Baleka, my sister." "I still have some kinship with you then, Mopo, and that I am glad of.
Wow! who would have guessed that I was the son of the Silwana, of that hyena man?
Perhaps it is for this reason that, like Galazi, I love the company of the wolves, though no love grows in my heart for my father or any of his house." "You have little cause to love him, Umslopogaas, for he murdered your mother, Baleka, and would have slain you also.

But you are the son of Chaka and of no other man." "Well, his eyes must be keen indeed, my uncle, who can pick his own father out of a crowd.

And yet I once heard this tale before, though I had long forgotten it." "From whom did you hear it, Umslopogaas?
An hour since, it was known to one alone, the others are dead who knew it.