Chapter Twenty Two.
Of the Blackening of the Moon.
They were fully armed, these men. Each carried the large war-shield and broad assegai. Further, they were plumed and otherwise adorned as warriors upon a hostile expedition. In the light of the moon I could see that they were all amakehla, or head-ringed men, of middle age, straight and tall, and, indeed, the very pick and flower of such an impi as any induna might be proud to command. But who were they? Not one of their faces was known to me. Clearly they were not of our own people; and, if not, who were they?
They halted on seeing me, uttering a quick murmur of surprise, yet not of a surprise that was over great. Then they lowered their weapons, and, tossing aloft their right hands, they exclaimed—
“Bayéte!”
Yes; to me they cried the Bayéte, these warriors—Bayéte, the salute of a King—to me, Untúswa! In truth, the old Mosutu isanusi spoke not falsely when he declared that the strangest thing would happen to me in the Place of the Three Rifts, for here was I being hailed by armed warriors as a King. For a moment the thought crossed my mind that the Great Great One was no more, and that the people had elected me to sit in his seat, and had sent to find me, but only for a moment. For the light of the moon was strong, and of the faces of these not one did I know.
“Yeh-bo!” I answered, in a deep, muttering tone, some instinct moving me to hide my real voice as much as might be. And I stood straight and erect, waiting for them to continue.
“We have explored this mountain range far on either hand, O Greater of the Twin Stars of the Heavens,” said the foremost, “yet there is no way by which our impis may cross save by yon gloomy pass. And in the mouth thereof sits some strange wizard beast and dismally howls.”
“It is even as Silwane has said, more valiant of two Kings,” declared another.
“Greater of the Twin Stars of the Heavens!”