“‘I have seen you, son of Ntelani,’ he answered.
“‘Are you making múti, father?’ I went on, with a glance at the stuff.
“He chuckled.
“‘Múti? Do I need it, Untúswa? Yet if you would see what múti is, you shall. Enter.’
“For a moment I feared, for we Zulus have a horror and repulsion of all that relates to charms and wizardry. To be alone with those dreadful eyes—Ha! I went into that hut a man; I might come out of it a baboon, a snake. Yet I it was who had said to the King, ‘I know not fear.’ Then I bent down and crept through the entrance hole, and when I got inside, lo! there was very little in it at all.
“Old Masuka sat down and took snuff, blinking the while at me with his black and snaky eyes. Then he said:
“‘You Amazulu are brave as lions in the fight, Untúswa, but in all that pertains to magic you are nowhere. These izanusi of yours are more ignorant than children.’
“‘Their art is nothing beside yours, father. But tell me, you who are now one of us, do you never long for your own dwellings again, the rocks and the mountains? Do you not also feel a thirst for revenge upon those who have slain your kindred and despoiled your possessions?’
“The old man’s eyes flashed forth a laugh, and he said:
“‘You are young, Untúswa. When you have seen the world grow grey with age, as I have, it is little enough you will grieve over such things as loss of kindred and possessions. Ha! you will as likely grieve over the fall of a tree in the wind, the removal of pebbles by a flooded river. And now your heart is sore because of the girl Nangeza, upon whose account you have many times incurred the doom of those who break the laws of Tshaka.’