To tell the truth, my nerves were quite shattered with all I had gone through, and I longed to be away from the sights and sounds of that terrible battlefield, on and about which so many thousand people had perished this fateful day, as I had seldom longed for anything before.
But while I was making up my mind as to the best way to approach him, something happened which caused me to lose my chance.
Hearing a noise behind me, I looked round, to see a stout man arrayed in a very fine war dress, and waving in one hand a gory spear and in the other a head-plume of ostrich feathers, who was shouting out: "Give me audience of the son of the King! I have a song to sing to the Prince.

I have a tale to tell to the conqueror, Cetewayo." I stared.

I rubbed my eyes.

It could not be--yes, it was--Umbezi, "Eater-up-of-Elephants," the father of Mameena.

In a few seconds, without waiting for leave to approach, he had bounded through the line of dead princes, stopping to kick one of them on the head and address his poor clay in some words of shameful insult, and was prancing about before Cetewayo, shouting his praises.
"Who is this umfokazana ?" [that is, low fellow] growled the Prince.