Whereon Mavovo said, or seemed to say: 

“Ah! at last you touch the truth, O Macumazana, my father.  All things are a shadow and we are shadows in a shadow.  But what throws the shadow, O Macumazana, my father?  Why does Dogeetah appear to come hither riding on a white ox and why do all these thousands think that my Snake stands so very stiff upon its tail?”

“I’m hanged if I know,” I replied and woke up.

There, without doubt, was old Brother John with a wreath of flowers —­I noted in disgust that they were orchids—­hanging in a bacchanalian fashion from his dinted sun-helmet over his left eye.  He was in a furious rage and reviling Bausi, who literally crouched before him, and I was in a furious rage and reviling him.  What I said I do not remember, but he said, his white beard bristling with indignation while he threatened Bausi with the handle of the butterfly net: 

“You dog!  You savage, whom I saved from death and called Brother.  What were you doing to these white men who are in truth my brothers, and to their followers?  Were you about to kill them?  Oh! if so, I will forget my vow, I will forget the bond that binds us and——­”

“Don’t, pray don’t,” said Bausi.  “It is all a horrible mistake; I am not to be blamed at all.  It is that witch-doctor, Imbozwi, whom by the ancient law of the land I must obey in such matters.  He consulted his Spirit and declared that you were dead; also that these white lords were the most wicked of men, slave-traders with spotted hearts, who came hither to spy out the Mazitu people and to destroy them with magic and bullets.”

“Then he lied,” thundered Brother John, “and he knew that he lied.”

“Yes, yes, it is evident that he lied,” answered Bausi.  “Bring him here, and with him those who serve him.”

Now by the light of the moon which was shining brightly in the heavens, for the thunder-clouds had departed with the last glow of sunset, soldiers began an active search for Imbozwi and his confederates.  Of these they caught eight or ten, all wicked-looking fellows hideously painted and adorned like their master, but Imbozwi himself they could not find.

I began to think that in the confusion he had given us the slip, when presently from the far end of the line, for we were still all tied to our stakes, I heard the voice of Sammy, hoarse, it is true, but quite cheerful now, saying: 

“Mr. Quatermain, in the interests of justice, will you inform his Majesty that the treacherous wizard for whom he is seeking, is now peeping and muttering at the bottom of the grave which was dug to receive my mortal remains.”

I did inform his Majesty, and in double-quick time our friend Imbozwi was once more fished out of a grave by the strong arms of Babemba and his soldiers, and dragged into the presence of the irate Bausi.

“Loose the white lords and their followers,” said Bausi, “and let them come here.”