“Priest,” whispered each of the little men to his fellow in the dead silence that followed, “Priest, this King says that he sees his own face. Priest, tell me now, has not the spirit of the Inkosazana interpreted the oracle of the Inkosazana? Will not yonder King be hurled down this cleft? Is he not the star that falls?”
And they nodded and smiled at each other.
But Dingaan leapt up in his rage and terror, and with him leapt up the Councillors and witch doctors, all save he who was named Mopo, son of Makedama, who sat still gazing at the ground. Dingaan leapt up, and seizing the bowl hurled it from him so that the water in it fell over Rachel like rain from the clouds. He leapt up, and he cursed the Ghost-priests as evil wizards, bidding them begone from his land. He raved at them, he threatened them, he cursed them again and again. The little men sat still and smiled till he grew weary and ceased. Then they spoke to each other, saying:
“He has sprinkled the White One with the dew of out Trees, and henceforth she belongs to the Trees. Is it not so, Priest?”
They nodded in assent, and Eddo rose and addressed the King in a new voice, a shrill commanding voice, saying:
“O man, thou that art called a King and causest much blood to flow, thou are but a bubble on a river of blood, thou slayer that shalt be slain, thou thrower of spears upon whom the spear shall fall, thou who shalt look upon the Face of Stone that knows not pity, thou whom the earth shall swallow, thou who shalt perish at the hands of—”
“The faces of the slayers were veiled, Priest,” broke in the other two dwarfs, peeping up at him from beneath the shadow of their umbrellas; “surely the faces of those slayers were veiled, O Priest.”
“Thou who shalt perish at the hands of avengers whose faces are veiled, thy riddle is read for thee as the Mother of the Trees decreed that it should be read. It is well read, it is truly read, it shall befall in its season. Now give to thy servants their reward and let them depart in peace. Give to them that White One whose lost Spirit spoke to thee from the water.”
“Take her,” roared Dingaan, “take her and begone, for to the Zulus she and Noie, the witch, bring naught but ill.”
But one of the Council cried: