She shrugged her shoulders, folded her arms beneath her breast, nodded to Saduko as he passed, then leaned gracefully against the fence and awaited events.
“Greeting, Umbezi,” said Saduko in his proud manner. “I see that you feast. Am I welcome here?”
“Of course you are always welcome, Saduko,” replied Umbezi uneasily, “although, as it happens, I am entertaining a great man.” And he looked towards Masapo.
“I see,” said Saduko, eyeing the strangers. “But which of these may be the great man? I ask that I may salute him.”
“You know well enough, umfokazana” (that is, low fellow), exclaimed Masapo angrily.
“I know that if you were outside this fence, Masapo, I would cram that word down your throat at the point of my assegai,” replied Saduko in a fierce voice. “Oh, I can guess your business here, Masapo, and you can guess mine,” and he glanced towards Mameena. “Tell me, Umbezi, is this little chief of the Amansomi your daughter’s accepted suitor?”
“Nay, nay, Saduko,” said Umbezi; “no one is her accepted suitor. Will you not sit down and take food with us? Tell us where you have been, and why you return here thus suddenly, and—uninvited?”
“I return here, O Umbezi, to speak with the white chief, Macumazahn. As to where I have been, that is my affair, and not yours or Masapo’s.”
“Now, if I were chief of this kraal,” said Masapo, “I would hunt out of it this hyena with a mangy coat and without a hole who comes to devour your meat and, perhaps,” he added with meaning, “to steal away your child.”
“Did I not tell you, Macumazahn, that when two bucks met they would fight?” whispered Mameena suavely into my ear.