From this dilemma the supernatural test suggested by the Prime Minister and approved by the Council that represented the various tribes of people, seemed to offer a path of escape.

So I read the situation, as I think rightly.
Upon hearing these words for the first time that night Zikali seemed to grow disturbed.
"What do my ears hear ?" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Am I the Umkulukulu, the Great-Great (i.e., God) himself, that it should be asked of me to draw the Princess of Heaven from beyond the stars, she who comes and goes like the wind, but like the wind cannot be commanded?
Do they hear that if she will not come to my beckoning, then the great Zulu people must put a yoke upon their shoulders and be as slaves?
Surely the King must have been listening to the doctrines of those English teachers who wear a white ribbon tied about their necks, and tell us of a god who suffered himself to be nailed to a cross of wood, rather than make war upon his foes, one whom they call the Prince of Peace.
Times have changed indeed since the days of the Black One.

Yes, generals have become like women; the captains of the impis are set to milk the cows.

Well, what have I to do with all this?
What does it matter to me who am so very old that only my head remains above the level of the earth, the rest of me being buried in the grave, who am not even a Zulu to boot, but a Dwandwe, one of the despised Dwandwe whom the Zulus mocked and conquered?
"Hearken to me, Spirits of the House of Senzangacona"-- here he addressed about a dozen of Cetewayo's ancestors by name, going back for many generations.