Then after a little consultation Cetewayo said—­

“It is our desire, O Opener of Roads, that you should draw wisdom from the fount of Death, if indeed you can do so.  Now let any who are afraid depart and wait for us who are not afraid, alone and in silence at the mouth of the kloof.”

At this some of the audience rose, but after hesitating a little, sat down again.  Only Goza actually took a step forward, but on my remarking that he would probably meet the dead coming up that way, collapsed, muttering something about my pistol, for the fool seemed to think I could shoot a spirit.

“If indeed I can do so,” repeated Zikali in a careless fashion.  “That is to be proved, is it not?  Perhaps, too, it may be better for every one of you if I fail than if I succeed.  Of one thing I warn you, should the dead appear stir not, and above all touch not, for he who does either of these things will, I think, never live to look upon the sun again.  But first let me try an easier fashion.”

Then once again he took up the skull that he said had been his daughter’s, and whispered to it, only to lay it down presently.

“It will not serve,” he said with a sigh and shaking his locks.  “Noma tells me that she died a child, one who had no knowledge of war or matters of policy, and that in all these things of the world she still remains a child.  She says that I must seek some one who thought much of them; one, too who still lives in the heart of a man who is present here, if that be possible, since from such a heart alone can the strength be drawn to enable the dead to appear and speak.  Now let there be silence—­Let there be silence, and woe to him that breaks it.”

Silence there was indeed, and in it Zikali crouched himself down till his head almost rested on his knee, and seemed to go to sleep.  He awoke again and chanted for half a minute or so in some language I could not understand.  Then voices began to answer him, as it seemed to me from all over the kloof, also from the sky or rock above.  Whether the effect was produced by ventriloquism or whether he had confederates posted at various points, I do not know.

At any rate this lord of “multitudes of spirits” seemed to be engaged in conversation with some of them.  What is more, the thing was extremely well done, since each voice differed from the other; also I seemed to recognize some of them, Dingaan’s for instance, and Panda’s, yes, and that of Umbelazi the Handsome, the brother of the king whose death I witnessed down by the Tugela.

You will ask me what they said.  I do not know.  Either the words were confused or the events that followed have blotted them from my brain.  All I remember is that each of them seemed to be speaking of the Zulus and their fate and to be very anxious to refer further discussion of the matter to some one else.  In short they seemed to talk under protest, or that was my impression, although Goza,