“No more, Great Great One.”
“Ha! That is well. And now by virtue of what múti didst thou triumph over this evil thing of witchcraft?”
“By the virtue of no múti save that of the spear of the King, O Elephant,” I answered, with a glance backward at where I had deposited the great assegai, the erewhile royal gift.
I thought the answer seemed to please him, then not; for his expression changed as though reading into my words a hidden meaning.
“But it has taken long to rid the land of this thing, Untúswa,” he said, looking at me with his head bent sideways, and speaking in a soft tone.
“That is so, Great Great One. But the thing was both crafty and fierce.”
“Yet not alone didst thou slay it, as my conditions were,” he went on, pointing at me with his short-handled spear.
“Alone indeed did I slay it, Serpent of Wisdom,” I answered.
“Now thou liest, son of Ntelani. What of the slaves who were with thee?”
“They were but bait for the ghost-bull, Divider of the Sun; and both were duly slain by it,” I replied. But now I knew my feet were standing on slippery ground indeed—for never for a long time past had Umzilikazi spoken to me in that tone, and for a longer time still, in the sight and hearing of all men.