They ceased, and ranged themselves in a body behind us. Then Chaka held up his hand, and there was a patter of running feet. Presently from behind the royal huts appeared the great company of the Abangoma, the witch-doctors—men to the right and women to the left. In the left hand of each was the tail of a vilderbeeste, in the right a bundle of assegais and a little shield. They were awful to see, and the bones about them rattled as they ran, the bladders and the snake-skins floated in the air behind them, their faces shone with the fat of anointing, their eyes started like the eyes of fishes, and their lips twitched hungrily as they glared round the death-ring. Ha! ha! little did those evil children guess who should be the slayers and who should be the slain before that sun sank!
On they came, like a grey company of the dead. On they came in silence broken only by the patter of their feet and the dry rattling of their bony necklets, till they stood in long ranks before the Black One. Awhile they stood thus, then suddenly every one of them thrust forward the little shield in his hand, and with a single voice they cried, “Hail, Father!”
“Hail, my children!” answered Chaka.
“What seekest thou, Father?” they cried again. “Blood?”
“The blood of the guilty,” he answered.
They turned and spoke each to each; the company of the men spoke to the company of the women.
“The Lion of the Zulu seeks blood.”
“He shall be fed!” screamed the women.
“The Lion of the Zulu smells blood.”
“He shall see it!” screamed the women.