“A few picked warriors whom I brought with me, Macumazahn. There were one or two more, but they got lost on the way.”
Then we went to the waggon and spoke no more that night.
Next morning I told Umslopogaas of the visit I had received from the Induna of the King who wished me to come to the royal kraal. He nodded and said,
“As it chances certain thieves attacked me on my journey, which is why one or two of my people remain behind who will never travel again. We made good play with those thieves; not one of them escaped,” he added grimly, “and their bodies we threw into a river where are many crocodiles. But their spears I brought away and I think that they are such as the King’s guard use. If so, his search for them will be long, since the fight took place where no man lives and we burned the shields and trappings. Oho! he will think that the ghosts have taken them.”
That morning we trekked on fast, fearing lest a regiment searching for these “thieves” should strike and follow our spoor. Luckily the ox that the lion had killed was one of some spare cattle which I was driving with me, so its loss did not inconvenience us. As we went Umslopogaas told me that he had duly appointed Lousta and his wife Monazi to rule the tribe during his absence, an office which they accepted doubtfully, Monazi acting as Chieftainess and Lousta as her head Induna or Councillor.
I asked him whether he thought this wise under all the circumstances, seeing that it had occurred to me since I made the suggestion, that they might be unwilling to surrender power on his return, also that other domestic complications might ensue.
“It matters little, Macumazahn,” he said with a shrug of his great shoulders, “for of this I am sure, that I have played my part with the People of the Axe and to stop among them would have meant my death, who am a man betrayed. What do I care who love none and now have no children? Still, it is true that I might have fled to Natal with the cattle and there have led a fat and easy life. But ease and plenty I do not desire who would live and fall as a warrior should.
“Never again, mayhap, shall I see the Ghost-Mountain where the wolves ravened and the old Witch sits in stone waiting for the world to die, or sleep in the town of the People of the Axe. What do I want with wives and oxen while I have Inkosikaas the Groan-maker and she is true to me?” he added, shaking the ancient axe above his head so that the sun gleamed upon the curved blade and the hollow gouge or point at the back beyond the shaft socket. “Where the Axe goes, there go the strength and virtue of the Axe, O Macumazahn.”
“It is a strange weapon,” I said.
“Aye, a strange and an old, forged far away, says Zikali, by a warrior-wizard hundreds of years ago, a great fighter who was also the first of smiths and who sits in the Under-world waiting for it to return to his hand when its work is finished beneath the sun. That will be soon, Macumazahn, since Zikali told me that I am the last Holder of the Axe.”