Now, although I take it out of its strict chronological order, the first
of these histories that I wish to preserve is in the main that of an
extremely beautiful woman--with the exception of a certain Nada, called
"the Lily," of whom I hope to speak some day, I think the most beautiful
that ever lived among the Zulus. Also she was, I think, the most able,
the most wicked, and the most ambitious. Her attractive name--for it was
very attractive as the Zulus said it, especially those of them who were
in love with her--was Mameena, daughter of Umbezi. Her other name
was Child of Storm (Ingane-ye-Sipepo, or, more freely and shortly,
O-we-Zulu), but the word "Ma-mee-na" had its origin in the sound of the
wind that wailed about the hut when she was born.[*] [*--The Zulu word "Meena"--or more correctly "Mina"--means
"Come here," and would therefore be a name not unsuitable to
one of the heroine's proclivities; but Mr. Quatermain does
not seem to accept this interpretation.--EDITOR.] Since I have been settled in England I have read--of course in a
translation--the story of Helen of Troy, as told by the Greek poet,
Homer. Well, Mameena reminds me very much of Helen, or, rather, Helen
reminds me of Mameena. At any rate, there was this in common between
them, although one of them was black, or, rather, copper-coloured,
and the other white--they both were lovely; moreover, they both were
faithless, and brought men by hundreds to their deaths. There, perhaps,
the resemblance ends, since Mameena had much more fire and grit than
Helen could boast, who, unless Homer misrepresents her, must have been
but a poor thing after all. Beauty Itself, which those old rascals of
Greek gods made use of to bait their snares set for the lives and honour
of men, such was Helen, no more; that is, as I understand her, who have
not had the advantage of a classical education. Now, Mameena, although
she was superstitious--a common weakness of great minds--acknowledging
no gods in particular, as we understand them, set her own snares, with
varying success but a very definite object, namely, that of becoming the
first woman in the world as she knew it--the stormy, bloodstained world
of the Zulus.
But the reader shall judge for himself, if ever such a person should
chance to cast his eye upon this history.
It was in the year 1854 that I first met Mameena, and my acquaintance
with her continued off and on until 1856, when it came to an end in a
fashion that shall be told after the fearful battle of the Tugela in
which Umbelazi, Panda's son and Cetewayo's brother--who, to his sorrow,
had also met Mameena--lost his life. I was still a youngish man in
those days, although I had already buried my second wife, as I have told
elsewhere, after our brief but happy time of marriage.