“The star travels whither it is thrown by the
hand of the Umkulunkulu, the Master of men; the spear
finds the heart to which it is appointed. Read
you the omen as you will. I have spoken, but ye
will not understand. That which shall be, shall
be.”
She bent her head, and turned her ear towards the
ground as though to hearken.
“What was that tale of the last words of the
Great Lion who is gone?” she went on. “Ask
it of Mopo, ask it of Dingaan the King. It seems
to me that I also hear the feet of a people travelling
over plain and mountain, and the rivers behind them
run red with blood. Are they black feet or white
feet? Read ye the omen as ye will. I have
spoken for the first time and the last; trouble me
no more with this matter of the white men and your
war,” and turning, Rachel glided from the court,
followed by Noie with bowed head.
ISHMAEL VISITS THE INKOSAZANA
When at last they were in the hut and the door-board
had been safely closed, Rachel took Noie in her arms
and kissed her. But Noie did not kiss her back;
she only pressed her hand against her forehead.
“Why do you not kiss me, Noie?” asked
Rachel.
“How can I kiss you, Inkosazana,” replied
the girl humbly, “I who am but the dog at your
feet, the dog whom twice it has pleased you to save
from death.”
“Inkosazana!” exclaimed Rachel. “I
weary of that name. I am but a woman like yourself,
and I hate this part which I must play.”
“Yet it is a high part, and you play it very
well. While I listened to you to-night, Zoola,
twice and thrice I wondered if you are not something
more than you deem yourself to be. That beautiful
body of yours is but a cup like those of other women,
but say, who fills the cup with the wine of wisdom?
Why do kings and councillors fear you, and why do you
fear nothing? Why did dead Seyapi talk to me
of you in dreams? What strange chance gave you
that name of yours and made you holy in these men’s
eyes? What power teaches you the truth and gives
you wit and strength to speak it? Why are you
different from the rest of maidens, white or black?”
“I do not know, Noie. Something tells me
what to do and say. Also, I understand these
Zulus, and you have taught me much. You told me
all the hidden tale of yonder Mopo a year gone by,
or more, as you have told me many of the darkest secrets
of this people that you had from your father, who
knew them all. At the pinch I remembered it, no
more, and played upon them by my knowledge.”
“What was it you said to Mopo under your cloak,
Lady?”
Rachel smiled as she answered:
“I only asked him if it were not in his mind,
having killed one king, to kill another also, and
that spear went home.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Noie in admiration, “at
least I never told you that.”
“No; I read it in his eyes; for a moment all
his heart was open to me—yes, and the heart
of Dingaan also. He fears Mopo, and Mopo hates
him, and one day hate and fear will come together.”
