“Impis fighting,” I answered briefly.

“Then you must be a ‘heaven-doctor,’ Macumazahn, for I only see black and red clouds.  Well, it is time to go to learn whether or no the impis will fight, for Zikali awaits us and the Council has started already.  By the way, the king says that you will do well to put your pistol in your pocket in case any should seek to harm you in the dark.”

“It is there.  But, Goza, I pray you to protect me, since in the dark bullets fly wide, and if I began to shoot, one might hit you, Goza.”

He smiled, making no answer, but I noticed that during the rest of that night he was careful to keep behind me as much as possible.

Our way led us through the town where everybody seemed to be standing about doing nothing and speaking very little.  There was a curious air of expectancy upon their faces.  They knew that the crisis was at hand, that their nation’s fate hung upon the scales, and they watched my every look and movement as though in them they expected to read an omen.  I too watched them out of the corners of my eyes, wondering whether I should escape from their savage company alive.  If once the blood lust broke out among them, it seemed to me that I should have about as much chance as a chopped fox among a pack of hungry hounds.

Once out of the town we saw no one until we came to the circle of guards which I have already mentioned, who stood there like an endless line of black statues.  In answer to their challenge Goza gave some complicated password in which my name occurred, whereon they opened out and let us through.  Then we marched on to the mouth of the kloof.  The place was very dark, for now the sun was down in the west and the moon in the east was cut off from us by the hills and would not be visible here for half an hour or more.  Presently I saw a spot of light.  It was a small fire burning near the tongue of rock which I have described.

At a distance, in front of the fire on the patch of prepared ground, squatted a number of men, between twenty and thirty of them, in a semicircle.  They were wrapped up in karosses and blankets, and in their centre sat a large figure on a chair of wood.

“The King and the Great Council,” whispered Goza.

One of them looked round and saw us.  At some sign from the king he rose, and against the fire I saw that he was the Prime Minister, Umnyamana.  He came to me and, with a nod of recognition, conducted me some paces to the right where a euphorbia tree grew among the rank herbage.  Here I found a stool placed ready on which I sat down, Goza, who of course was not of the Council, squatting at my side in the grass.