“Ha! Was there not another Lion of Zulu that roared louder, and divided the nation? But for this they had been driven out themselves.”
“M-m!” hummed another. “That is as the preacher says. Combine—do not divide.”
“And this preacher—will he speak again here?” asked Teliso innocently.
“Not here. At Nteseni’s Great Place. There will he speak. But many will go from here to listen.”
The detective was on the point of asking whether he was likely to cross to the other side, and talk with the chiefs in Zululand, but judged it wise not to seem too curious. He could find that out later, for he had made up his mind to be one of those who should go on from here to Nteseni’s Great Place.
For Teliso was having a good time. There had been a fair season and food was plentiful. The people were hospitable; and he was just as fond of meat and tywala as any other native. He was faithful to his employers, the Government, according to his lights, but his pay was not on a luxurious scale, and the risks he ran were at times considerable. So he made up his mind to combine pleasure with business—to lay himself out to have a good time. And—who shall blame him?