Now Ralph swung to and fro like a drunken man, and had I not put my arm about him I believe that he would have fallen.
“It is the mountain of my vision,” he gasped.
“Be not foolish,” I answered, for I feared lest when he found that all this strange resemblance was a chance, the bitterness of his disappointment might overwhelm him. “Be not foolish, son; are there not many hills in this great land with ridges on their flanks, and streams of water running down them?”
Then, as Ralph seemed unable to answer me, I asked of Gaasha:
“Who is the chief of this tribe of yours?”
“He is named Koraanu,” he answered, “if he still lives, but a man I met some months ago told me that he has been dead these two years, and that she who used to rule us when I was a little child had come back from the lands whither she had wandered, and is now Inkoosikaas of the Umpondwana.”
“What is the name of this chieftainess?” I asked in the midst of a great silence.
Gaasha answered at once; that is, after he had taken a pinch of snuff, but to us it seemed a year before the words crossed his lips.
“Her name, lady,” and he sneezed, “is”—and he sneezed again, rocking himself to and fro. Then slowly wiping away the tears which the snuff had brought to his eyes with the back of his hand he said, “Ow! this is the best of snuff, and I thank the Baas for giving it to me.”
“Answer,” roared Jan, speaking for the first time, and in such a fierce voice that Gaasha sprang to his feet and began to run away.