So, while I deposited myself upon the pallet, ’Ngaga bade us both a somewhat ceremonious farewell, and vanished through the opening into the blazing sunlight without.
Then Mafuta began to talk to me about my journey and the incidents, such as they were, that had thus far marked it; and I confess that I was astounded at the intimate knowledge of these matters which he displayed. Of course I knew that my “boys” might have, and very possibly had, spoken of them to ’Ngaga and the other Basutos during their gossip round the fire on the previous evening; yet this man, Mafuta, seemed to know more about the details of them than was likely to have transpired during such a conversation, which was probably of an exceedingly desultory and general character. Yet even this was not so surprising as the knowledge he displayed of the twofold object of my journey, which I knew he could not have acquired from my “boys”, because even they were ignorant of it, all that they actually knew being that the journey was ostensibly undertaken for the purpose of collecting ivory. But without questioning me at all upon the subject, the nyanga made it clear to me that he was fully aware of the fact that one great object of my journey was to get gold rather than ivory.
“Yet even that,” said he, “is not all that you seek upon this journey; important as it is that you should find the yellow metal which the white man values so greatly, you are even more anxious to find something else: is it not so? And so anxious are you to find it that, although you doubt Mafuta’s power, you have come to him to see if he can help you.”
“It is true,” I admitted; “and the fact that you know so much of my most secret desires and intentions inclines me to hope, and almost to believe, that you can help me. Do you think you can?”
“It may be, ’mlungu; it may be,” he answered. “The white ’ntombozaan (girl) still lives and is well, for I last night took the trouble to seek for and find her; but where she is I cannot say, for the place is strange to me, I having never seen it with my bodily eyes.”
I fairly gasped with amazement, for this was the first time that Nell Lestrange had been mentioned since my arrival in the village, and it was not I who had spoken of her, but a savage to whom even the bare fact of her existence might be supposed to be unknown—unless—unless those who originally carried her off had chanced to pass this way. Yet, even then—
“Tell me,” I shouted, seizing the nyanga by the arm, rather roughly, I am afraid, in my excitement, “what do you know of her? How long is it since you saw her? And who are they who carried her off?”
“Gahle (gently), white man! gahle!” returned Mafuta, snatching his arm out of my grasp. “I know nothing of the ’ntombi save what I saw last night. But you came hither to procure my help to find her, and such help as I can give shall be yours. As I told you, I know not where she is, for I never saw the place with my bodily eyes, but I will show it to you, so that if ever you come to the place you may know it. Will that satisfy you?”
“But,” I objected, “if you are able to show me the place, surely you can tell me the name of it, and in which direction I should travel to reach it?”
“Nay, ’mlungu, I cannot do that,” answered Mafuta. “My power is not so great as that. I can but show you the person whom you desire to see; it must rest with you to note that person’s surroundings so carefully that, should you ever arrive at the place, you will recognise it again. Or perhaps by describing it to others you may be able to find someone who has been there and who, recognising it from your description, will be able to tell you its name and where it is.”