“Now,” he said.
I opened my shirt and by the clear light of the flame showed him the image of Zikali which hung about my neck. He stared at it, though touch it he would not. Then he stood up and lifting his great axe, he saluted the image with the word “Makosi!” the salute that is given to great wizards because they are supposed to be the home of many spirits.
“It is the big Medicine, the Medicine itself,” he said, “that which has been known in the land since the time of Senzangacona, the father of the Zulu Royal House, and as it is said, before him.”
“How can that be?” I asked, “seeing that this image represents Zikali, Opener-of-Roads, as an old man, and Senzangacona died many years ago?”
“I do not know,” he answered, “but it is so. Listen. There was a certain Mopo, or as some called him, Umbopo, who was Chaka’s body-servant and my foster-father, and he told me that twice this Medicine,” and he pointed to the image, “was sent to Chaka, and that each time the Lion obeyed the message that came with it. A third time it was sent, but he did not obey the message and then—where was Chaka?”
Here Umslopogaas passed his hand across his mouth, a significant gesture amongst the Zulus.
“Mopo,” I said, “yes, I have heard the story of Mopo, also that Chaka’s body became his servant in the end, since Mopo killed him with the help of the princes Dingaan and Umhlangana. Also I have heard that this Mopo still lives, though not in Zululand.”
“Does he, Macumazahn?” said Umslopogaas, taking snuff from a spoon and looking at me keenly over the spoon. “You seem to know a great deal, Macumazahn; too much as some might think.”
“Yes,” I answered, “perhaps I do know too much, or at any rate more than I want to know. For instance, O fosterling of Mopo and son of—was the lady named Baleka?—I know a good deal about you.”
Umslopogaas stared at me and laying his hand upon the great axe, half rose. Then he sat down again.