It is not strange, for a homeless wanderer must find fathers where she can--and yet! no, it cannot be--so changed--and that white hand?
And yet, oh! who are you?
Once there was a man named Mopo, and he had a little daughter, and she was called Nada--Oh! my father, my father, I know you now!" "Ay, Nada, and I knew you from the first; through all your man's wrappings I knew you after these many years." So the Lily fell upon my neck and sobbed there, and I remember that I also wept.
Now when she had sobbed her fill of joy, Umslopogaas brought Nada the Lily mass to eat and mealie porridge.

She ate the curdled milk, but the porridge she would not eat, saying that she was too weary.
Then she told us all the tale of her wanderings since she had fled away from the side of Umslopogaas at the stronghold of the Halakazi, and it was long, so long that I will not repeat it, for it is a story by itself.

This I will say only: that Nada was captured by robbers, and for awhile passed herself off among them as a youth.

But, in the end, they found her out and would have given her as a wife to their chief, only she persuaded them to kill the chief and make her their ruler.

They did this because of that medicine of the eyes which Nada had only among women, for as she ruled the Halakazi so she ruled the robbers.