“Ukozi is a very lion among izanusi. Why do not the white people get him to find Nyamaki?”
“And the practice of an isanusi is not allowed by the white people. How then can they make use of such?” I said.
The chief shrugged his shoulders slightly, and there was a humorous twinkle in his eyes.
“It is as you say, Iqalaqala. Yet their Amapolise cannot find him. You white people know a great deal, but you do not know everything.”
“Now, Tyingoza, I would ask: What people does?”
Then he laughed and so did I, and this was all I got out of my attempt at “pumping” Tyingoza. Yet, not quite all. That suggestion of his as to employing the witch doctor was destined to stick. Afterwards it was destined to come back to me with very great force indeed.
Now I began to shut up the store, early in the day as it was, for I meant to go over to the Sewins. It would be almost my last visit: for the preparations for my trip were nearly complete and in two or three days I proposed to start. Moreover I had received a note from the old Major, couched in a reproachful vein on behalf of his family, to the effect that I was becoming quite a stranger of late, and so forth; all of which went to show that my plan of not giving them more of my company than I thought they could do with—had answered.
“So you are going kwa Zulu directly?” said Tyingoza, as he took his leave. “And not alone. That is a pity.”
He had never referred to Falkner’s practical joke. Now, of course, I thought he was referring to it.
“Well, the boy is only a boy,” I answered. “I will keep him in order once over there, that I promise.”