"And will those whose bodies have been left to waste and to wither on
the desert plains and scattered to the winds again arise?" asked the
king, with a kind of triumph, as though this time he had fixed the
missionary.

"Yes!" answered he, with emphasis; "not one will be left behind."

After looking at his visitor for a few moments, Makaba turned to his
people, saying in a stentorian voice: "Hark, ye wise men, whoever is
among you, the wisest of past generations, did ever your ears hear such
strange and unheard-of news?"

Receiving an answer in the negative, he laid his hand upon Moffat's
breast and said, "Father, I love you much. Your visit and your presence
have made my heart as white as milk. The words of your mouth are sweet
as honey, but the words of a resurrection are too great to be heard. I
do not wish to hear again about the dead rising! The dead cannot arise!
The dead must not arise!"

"Why," inquired the missionary, "can so great a man refuse knowledge and
turn away from wisdom? Tell me, my friend, why I must not add to words
and speak of a resurrection?"

Raising and uncovering his arm which had been strong in battle, and
shaking his hand as if quivering a spear, he replied, "I have slain my
thousands, and shall they arise!"

"Never before," adds Mr. Moffat in his _Missionary Labours_, "had the
light of Divine revelation dawned upon his savage mind, and of course