Now, this white man and he who attended him, bearing their burdens, walked on contentedly by our sides, and as we entered the gates of Kwa’zingwenya I sent a message to the King, reporting the strange discovery we had made. Then, having taken the strangers to my own hut, where my wives speedily set tywala before them, I went at once to learn the Great Great One’s pleasure concerning them.
“And the man is not of the Amabuna, son of Ntelani,” he said, when I had told my tale.
“Not so, Black Elephant. He says he is of a race which comes from far over the sea.”
“Ha! And the man with him, he is of ourselves?”
“He is, Father, and yet not. He is of the Aba-gaza.”
“Hau! Of the Abagaza? I would fain hear something of that people. See now, Untúswa, when these strangers are rested, I will talk with them here.”
I saluted and withdrew. When I regained my hut the white isanusi was reading from a book softly to himself. Whau! I have seen many books since, but at that time never, and it looked wonderful. At last he ceased, and, making one of those strange turns of his hand such as we had before noticed, he closed the book and looked up. Then I spoke the King’s message, and he rose to his feet, declaring he was ready.
Umzilikazi was seated outside the isigodhlo as we drew near. The white man halted in front of the King, and, inclining his head slightly, raised his hand aloft and said, “Bayéte!” The Gaza, however, bent low to the ground, murmuring words of bonga even as one of ourselves. Him the King began to question first:
“Who art thou, who art of us and yet not of us? How art thou named?”
“Ngubazana, son of Tumela, of the people of Gaza, Great Great One,” replied the man.