So these two grasped the arrow—first one, then the other—and obeyed the King’s word. And we, bending forward, watched them keenly and with joy; for we hated these crawling snakes of izanusi, who would have made of themselves, King, army, nation, all rolled into one. And we took care that there was no trickery in what they now did. So it happened that not long after they had pricked each other with the arrow they grew heavy and sleepy, and soon rolled over dead, and frothing at the mouth. For Umzilikazi judged that these two had supplied Nangeza with the poison, and there was nothing he loved so much as making the evil which one had prepared for another the manner whereby that one himself should fall.
“Now talk we of Kwelanga,” he said, when the bodies had been removed. “Thou, Lalusini, will the little one ever return to us?”
“They who wander abroad by night without weapons of defence run great danger, O Elephant,” she replied. “When such are but little children, what chance have they?”
“Yet the witch who is gone accused thee of a hand in her disappearance?”
“Then did she lie, Great Great One,” answered Lalusini softly. “No part did I bear in this. Yet one thing my serpent tells me. Not for ill was this child of the sunshine saved from reddening the Amandebeli spears what time the other children of the Amabuna perished thereby. Wherefore, when her voice again shall be heard, neglect it not, lest a nation be a nation no more. Lo, it groweth dark and all things are night! I hear the sound of a trampling of feet, of the quiver of spears as the forest boughs in a gale, the clash and roar of hosts in battle, the song of victory!”
“And to whom the victory, my sister?” said the King.
Lalusini turned wonderingly at the voice and passed her hand once or twice over her brow. Her eyes came back to earth again, and she seemed as one who has but awakened from a long, deep sleep. And we who beheld it were stricken with awe, for we knew that the sorceress had parted with her spirit for a time; and this, soaring away through the fields of space and of the future, had beheld that to which her lips had given utterance, and, indeed, a great deal more to which they had not. And now, her vision ended, it; was not within her power to reply to the King’s question.
“Get thee gone now, and rest, my sister, for I perceive that thy powers are great,” said Umzilikazi with a wave of the hand. And at the signal, some of the women who hung upon the outskirts of the crowd, came forward to lead the stranger to a large new hut which had been prepared for her reception.
When the assembly of the people had dispersed, the King and I still lingered talking over these matters.
“Is it for good or for ill she has come among us, Untúswa?” he said.