“That has affected it, I should think,” I rejoined.
“You know what it is?” he questioned.
“No, not yet.”
“Then the favourite wife of Metilulu has been suddenly taken ill, and the kraal is all aroused to learn who has made her so. The chief has sent to the witch-doctor to find out.”
“The witch-doctor! Why?”
“Because it has been caused by magic.”
“What! do you think illness can come but by the influence of that?”
Tugela gravely shook his head.
“Yes; some one has a spite against Anzutu, and has cast the illness upon her. You need not now fear for yourself,” he added, “your rejection of the bride Metilulu would have given you is forgotten for the time by this last event.”
When he spoke thus, I was far from conceiving all that this superstition comprised, though I saw by his manner that it was something exceedingly serious; consequently, as he assured me that I was safe, I accepted his invitation to see the ceremony for discovering the wizard. He warned me, however, not to join the circle, as sometimes witch-doctors did not like white men.