Then there came into my mind the thought of Chaka, the boy to whom I had given the cup of water long ago.

I had heard of him: his name was known in the land; already the air was big with it; the very trees and grass spoke it.

The words he had said and the vision that my mother had seen were beginning to come true.

By the help of the Umtetwas he had taken the place of his father Senzangacona; he had driven out the tribe of the Amaquabe; now he made war on Zweete, chief of the Endwande, and he had sworn that he would stamp the Endwande flat, so that nobody could find them any more.

Now I remembered how this Chaka promised that he would make me great, and that I should grow fat in his shadow; and I thought to myself that I would arise and go to him.
Perhaps he would kill me; well, what did it matter?
Certainly I should be killed if I stayed here.