“Amakosi!”
We started at the interruption. So intent had we been that not one of us had been aware of the approach of a fifth—and he a native.
“Ha, Ivondwe!” I cried, recognising him. “What knowest thou of this, for I think thou couldst not have been far from this place at sundown yesterday?”
He answered in English.
“Do the Amakosi think the young missis has got into the water?”
“They do,” I said, still keeping to the vernacular. “Now, Water Rat, prove worthy of thy name. Dive down, explore yon water to its furthest depths for her we seek. Then shall thy reward be great.”
“That will I do, Iqalaqala,” he answered—greatly to my surprise I own, for I had been mocking him by reason of his name.
“And the snake?” I said. “The snake that dwells in the pool. Dost thou not fear it?”
I had been keenly watching his face, and the wonder that came into it looked genuine.
“Why as to that,” he answered, “and if there be a snake yet I fear it not. I will go.”