“Nay,” interrupted Mafuta, “I saw nothing; nor do I know what you saw, excepting that I willed you to see the ’ntombi. Tell me everything that you beheld, and maybe I can help you to find the place.”
Thereupon I proceeded to describe minutely the entire scene as I had beheld it, the big town with its huts, to the number of two thousand or more, symmetrically arranged within its circle of stout, high palings; the kopje close by, with its scattered piles of rock interspersed with straggling clumps of bush, and its vultures; the great plain with its herds of grazing cattle beside the stream—in short, every feature of my vision, as I vividly recalled it. And when I had finished, Mafuta sat for several minutes ruminating deeply. At length, however, he looked up, and, shaking his head, said:
“White man, I have never seen the place you describe, otherwise I am sure that I should recognise it. The kopje with its rocks and its aasvogels would alone suffice for its identification. That kopje is doubtless the place where criminals are executed; the presence of the aasvogels seems to indicate that. And the size and general importance of the place lead me to believe that it is where a king sits; but what king I know not. Of one thing, however, I can assure you; it is not Moshesh’s Place.”
“Well,” said I, “that at least is something to know, for it is one place the less to trouble about. And that is all the help you can give me?”
“That is all the help I can give you,” repeated Mafuta.
“But surely it is much, is it not, ’mlungu? You have seen the place with the eyes of your mind, seen it as plainly as if you had beheld it with your bodily eyes; and you will remember what it looks like. You will be able to describe it minutely to others; and as you go upon your way you will have opportunity to speak of it to others, and—yes, it comes to me that eventually you will meet with one who will enable you to find it.”
“Thanks, very much,” said I. “That is a most comforting thing to know, and, since you say that such a thing will happen, I quite believe it will, after the exhibition of your powers which you have already given me. Will you accept this as a gift from me?” I added, producing the brilliantly marked handkerchief from my belt and offering it to the nyanga.
“My thanks, ’mlungu,” answered the man, taking the handkerchief and depositing it upon the pallet. “And now,” he continued, “I think you will do well to proceed without undue delay to Moshesh’s kraal. ’Ngaga has already dispatched a messenger apprising the king of your presence in his country, and, if you ask permission to pass through and hunt in it, the Great One will doubtless give it, especially as you have rendered his people the service of slaying the leopard that has been preying upon them. But the king is jealous of his own authority, and is apt to resent intrusion into his country without permission first asked; also he is a little distrustful of the white man, whom he suspects of a desire to steal the black man’s land. Therefore present yourself before him as early as may be.”
“Thanks, Mafuta, I will do as you say. Farewell, and may all prosperity attend you,” said I, as I took my leave.
“Sala guhli (farewell), ’mlungu!” replied the Kafir, following me out and standing by the door of the hut. “I see much trouble and many dangers before thee; but be of good heart, for thou shalt overcome them all.”