I said just now, Nkose, that there only remained for me one thing more to do, yet, having done it, I found there remained another; and this was, to effect a speedy and safe retreat from a position to which any moment might bring an end—resulting in my own death and the destruction of our nation. How was this to be effected? I dared not move or turn ever so slightly lest the light, falling upon my face, should betray me. To send these men away, and myself remain behind, might arouse their suspicion, and, over and above these considerations, the real Mhlangana might appear at any moment. Truly, Nkose, it required all the múti that old Masuka, and the white isanusi, and Lalusini, and all the greatest magicians the world ever saw, could devise to find me a way out of that trap.
But while these thoughts were racing through my mind a confused murmur rose among the group of warriors. A murmur of astonishment, even of a little alarm. Their faces were turned skyward, seeming to look beyond me as I stood; and, lo! the light had grown so dim that scarcely could I distinguish their features, up till now so plainly visible.
“Au!” they cried. “The moon! The moon! It grows black!”
Now I turned also, deeming it safe to do so, yet with caution, and covering half my face as though bringing my hand up in astonishment. And what I beheld was indeed portentous.
Over the face of the moon a black curtain was spreading slowly, slowly—veiling it not as a cloud veils it, but completely. While we had been talking, we had not noticed the fading light. Now, as we looked, lo! the half of the great golden ball was black. Higher, higher—farther, farther, crept this curtain, till none was left but the outside rim. All the rest of it was black. The world was in darkness.
Now, I had seen something of this kind before; but never before or since have I seen the moon grow so utterly, so completely, black. It seemed darker than the darkest night; yet, in reality, it was not so; but there was a cold and wizard-like breathing in the night air, and even the voices of the creatures of the waste were hushed. And heavy upon my mind lay Lalusini’s warning, and the words of her waking vision, uttered before the King, and relating to the blackening of the moon and of the feast which awaited the vultures. It was all plain enough now; ah, yes! the vultures would soon have a gigantic feast, indeed; but—of whom would it consist—of ourselves, or of the invading might of the two brothers, the Zulu Kings?
Now I saw in the darkness a wide door open for my escape from my perilous position.
“We will return now, my children, having found out all we desire to know,” I said.
“Yeh-bo, Nkulu ’nkulu!” assented the warriors, bending down and uttering words of bonga. Then they opened for me to pass, but I signed them to precede me; and so we all climbed up the rocks till we soon found ourselves on the slope of one of those great rifts which ran down into the half-circular hollow or basin which I had marked out for the deathtrap of Mhlangana’s impi.
“Whau!” muttered Silwane, who walked just in front of me. “The moon is dark for the mourning of a nation, for the death of a king.”