“Come back, Gaasha, come back,” I called, and he came doubtfully, for Gaasha was not very brave, and ever since he had wished to shoot him he trembled even at the sight of Jan. “Be silent, you fool,” I whispered to the latter as the lad drew near, then said aloud, “Now, Gaasha.”
“Lady,” he answered, “it is indeed as I have told you; the Baas gave me the snuff a long time ago; he took it out of the ear-boxes of the dead men at Vetchkop. He gave it to me. I did not steal it. He will say so himself.”
“Never mind the snuff, Gaasha,” I said in a voice half-choked with doubt and anxiety, for the sight of Ralph’s piteous face and the strangeness of it all were fast overwhelming me, “but tell us what is the name of this chieftainess whom you have heard is now the ruler of your tribe?”
“Her name, lady,” he answered, much relieved, “why it is well known, for though she is small, it is said that she is the best of doctoresses and rain-makers.”
Now Jan could no longer be restrained, for stretching out his great hand he gripped Gaasha by the throat, saying:
“Accursed swartzel, if you do not tell us the name at once I will kill you.”
“Madman,” I exclaimed, “how can the lad speak while you are choking him?”
Then Jan shifted his grip and Gaasha began to cry for pity.
“The name, the name,” said Jan.
“Why should I hide it? Have I not told it? Baas, it is Sihamba Ngenyanga.”