The air resounded with the wailing of women, and the men went about with bowed heads, saying that "the sun had set in the heavens, now only the Star (Stella) remained." Indaba-zimbi alone did not mourn.

He said that it was best that the Inkoos should die, for what was life worth when one lay like a log ?--moreover, that it would have been well for all if he had died sooner.
On the following day we buried him in the little graveyard near the waterfall.

It was a sad business, and Stella cried very much, in spite of all I could do to comfort her.
That night as I sat outside the hut smoking--for the weather was hot, and Stella was lying down inside--old Indaba-zimbi came up, saluted, and squatted at my feet.
"What is it, Indaba-zimbi ?" I said.
"This, Macumazahn.

When are you going to trek towards the coast ?" "I don't know," I answered.

"The Star is not fit to travel now, we must wait awhile." "No, Macumazahn, you must not wait, you must go, and the Star must take her chance.