The man, who was something of a humourist replied—­

“Certainly if you wish, Macumazahn.  That is to say, I will let your spirit pass, but to do this, if you come one step nearer I must first make a hole in you with my spear out of which it can fly.”

I thanked him for his information and gave him some snuff, which he took gratefully, being bored by his long vigil.  Then I asked him how many people the great witch-doctor had with him.  He said he did not know, but he had seen a number of tall men come to the mouth of the donga to fetch food that had been placed there.  Again I inquired if he had seen any women, whereon he replied none, Zikali being, he understood, too old to trouble himself about the other sex.  Just then an officer, making his rounds, came up and looked at me so sternly that I thought it well to retreat.  Evidently there was no chance of getting through that line.

On my way back I walked as near the fence of the King’s House as I dared, and saw witch-doctors passing in and out in their hideous official panoply.  This told me that here also Goza had spoken the truth—­the king was performing magical ceremonies, which meant that it would be impossible to approach him.  In every direction I met with failure.  The Fates were against me; it lay over me like a spell.  Indeed I grew superstitious and began to think that Zikali had bewitched me, as he was said to have the power to do.  Well, perhaps he had, for the mere fact of finding myself opposed by this persistent wall of difficulties and silence convinced me that there was something behind it to be learned.

I went back very dejected to my hut and talked to my mare which whinnied and rubbed its nose against me, for although it was well fed and looked after, the poor beast seemed as lonely as I was myself.  No wonder, since like myself it was separated from all its kind and weary of inaction.  After this I ate and smoked and finally dozed, no more, for whenever I tried to go to sleep I thought that I heard Zikali laughing at me, as mayhap he was doing yonder in his hut.

At length that wearisome day drew towards its end.  The sun began to sink, a huge red ball of fire, now and again veiled by clouds, for the sky was stormy.  Its fierce rays, striking upon other clouds, peopled the enormous heavens with fantastic shapes of light which were thickest over the hills wherein was the Valley of Bones.  To my strained mind these clouds looked like battling armies, figures of flame warring against figures of darkness.  The darkness won; no, the light broke out again and conquered it.  And see, there above them both squatted a strange black presence crowned with fire.  It might have been that of Zikali magnified ten thousand times, and hark! it laughed with the low reverberating voice of distant thunder.

Suddenly I felt that I was no longer alone and looking round, saw Goza at my side.

“What do you see up there, Macumazahn, that you stare so hard?” he asked, pointing at the sky with his stick.