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“But why did you mock me in this fashion, Zikali?”

“Truly, Macumazahn, you are blind as a bat in sunlight.  When your friends have told you the story, you will understand why.  Yet I admit to you that things went wrong.  You should have heard that tale before Cetewayo brought you to the Vale of Bones.  But the fool-woman delayed and blundered, and when she reached Ulundi the gates were shut against her as a spy, and not opened till too late, so that you only found her when you returned from the Council.  I knew this, and that was why I dared to bid you fire at that which stood upon the rock.  Had you heard Kaatje’s tale you might have aimed straight, as also you would have certainly shot straight at me, out of revenge for the deaths of those you loved, Macumazahn, though whether you could have killed me before all the game is played is another matter.  As it was, I was sure that you would not pierce the heart of one who might be a certain white woman, sure also that you would not pierce my heart whose death might bring about her death and that of another.”

“You are very subtle, Zikali,” I said in astonishment.

“So you hold because I am very simple, who understand the spirit of man—­and some other things.  For the rest, had you not believed that these two were dead, you would never have left Zululand.  You would have tried to escape to get to them and have been killed.  Is it not so?”

“Yes, I think I should have tried, Zikali.  But why did you keep them prisoner?”

“For the same reason that I still keep them—­and you—­to hold them back a while from the world of ghosts.  Had I sent them away after that night of the declaration of war, they would have been killed before they had gone an hour’s journey.  Oh!  I am not so bad as you think, Macumazahn, and I never break my word.  Now I have done.”

“How goes the war?” I asked as he shuffled to his feet.

“As it must go, very ill for the Zulus.  They have driven back the white men who gather strength from over the Black Water and will come on presently and wipe them out.  Umnyamana would have had Cetewayo invade Natal and sweep it clean, as of course he should have done.  But I sent him word that if he did so Nomkubulwana, yes, she and no other, had told me that all the spirits would be against him, and he hearkened.  When next you think me wicked, remember that, Macumazahn.  Now it is but a matter of time, and here you must bide till all is finished.  That will be good for you who need rest, though the other two find it wearisome.  Still for them it is good also to watch the fruit ripen on their tree of love.  It will be the sweeter when they eat it, Macumazahn, and teach them how to live together.  Oho!  Oho-ho!” and he shambled off.



That evening when I was lying on my bed outside the cave, I heard the tale of Anscombe and Heda.  Up to a certain point he told it, then she went on with the story.

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