“Yoh!” exclaimed one of the girls, “it is our master;” and she ran frightened away, while the old dame seized a brand from the fire, and held it before the malignant face of the same man who had led the Zulus to the ruins.
“Soh! it is you,” said Sirayo; “you are welcome; come, sit by me;” and, seizing the man by the leg, he jerked him over the fire to his side. “The beer is good—drink, man, drink.”
“Nay,” cried the old dame, “drink he shall not.”
“Drink,” said Sirayo, with a frightful grimace; “for it is the last your lips will touch. Since you have walked into the den, you will not leave it alive.”
“No, chief,” said Hume; “you must not take the blood of such a creature.”
“As you say, Hu-em. Let us leave him to the old woman; but this tuft on your hair let me have it, and this necklet of teeth, and this bag of old bones;” and Sirayo stripped from the cowering man all the ornaments and trappings of his office. “Now, Noenti, fix them on me; I will to-night play the part of witch-doctor.”
“There is a place in the hut here for you,” she said.
“Keep it warm for me, then, but to-night I will cross the river and listen to their talk. Is it not well, Hu-em?”
“No, the plan is wild; they will detect you at once.”
“I will crouch under a blanket and keep in the shadow. Moreover, I see there is a good time for me if I can keep them on their side. I will frighten them with a tale of the spirit of the snake; and is it not said among the tribes that in council Sirayo is as cunning as the jackal? though it is a mangy beast. Yes, I will go.”