The reply smote upon Laurence with a cold fear. What grim and gruesome form of mysterious doom did it not point to? "One only," Silawayo had said. He himself was the second. It seemed ominous. But it would never do to manifest curiosity, let alone apprehension, on his own account, so he forebore further query as to the mystery, whatever it might be. Yet he thought it no harm to say:
"And what was this white man, Silawayo?"
"He was Umfundisi" (a preacher), answered the other chief, Ngumúnye. "The king loves not such."
Well, the king need have no objections to himself on that score, at any rate, thought Laurence, with a dash of grim humour. But he only said:
"The king? Tell me about your king, Izinduna. How does he look? What is his name?"
"Hau! Is it possible, O stranger, that you have never heard the name of the king?" said Ngumúnye, turning upon Laurence a blankly astonished face.
"Did not Silawayo but now say that only one white man had visited your country—and even he had not returned?" said Laurence, in native fashion answering one query with another.
"Ha!" cried both chiefs, whom an idea seemed to strike. Then Ngumúnye went on impressively:
"Look around, O bearer of the Sign of the Spider. For days we have seen no man,—the remains of huts have we seen, but of people none. You too were remarking upon it but yesterday."
"That is so," assented Laurence.