But he must be kept among us; and in furtherance of this end the King gave secret orders that a few of the lowest of the slaves should listen to his teaching, and slowly and by degrees bring themselves to accept it, or pretend to. Then a few more were added to these; but ever with caution, lest the white isanusi should suspect. But he did not suspect; on the contrary, his heart was filled with joy at the readiness wherewith, these received his teaching, and at length—for this took time—he put them under the same rites as those which he had performed over the little white girl. So he was content to dwell with us; and while we laughed among ourselves over the trick we had played upon him, yet we were glad that this other road lay open to him besides that to the South, which would have caused us trouble, and that into the Dark Unknown, which might have caused it to him.
I had left Kwa’zingwenya after this indaba with the King, and was returning to my own kraal along the river bank, sad at heart, and pondering ever upon the disappearance of the Bakoni sorceress, when I came upon an old man, stumbling along, bent double, nosing and peering on the ground. It was old Masuka.
“Greeting, my father!” I cried. “Are you seeking múti herbs?”
“Perhaps I am seeking for that which shall give sleep, son of Ntelani,” he replied, laughing at me out of his eyes. “Ha! my dreams were strange last night—strange, and they were about thee, Untúswa, about thee!”
“About me, my father?” I cried.
“E—hé! But, first give me gwai, thou holder of the King’s Assegai, for I have none left.”
I took out the long horn snuff-box which was stuck through the lobe of my ear, and, squatting down, we both took snuff in silence. Then the old man burst into a chuckle.
“My dreams took me to the summit of the mountain of death, son of Ntelani. The ghost of Tauane was there—searching for something.”
“For what was it searching, my father?”
“For a strange thing. For an outward chamber in the cliff, like unto the place of an eagle’s nest.”