ear, and the nation will be crying `_Bayete_' to him who is its
leader in war. Ah! ah! What has happened before can happen again."

But here I stopped, for I was referring darkly to the death of that
Great Great One, the mighty Tshaka, from whose loins my _inkosikazi_ had
sprung. Yet no anger did she show.

"So shall we be great together at last, Lalusini, and my might in war,
and thy _muti_ combined, shall indeed rule the world," I went on. "Ha!
I will make believe to go on this _tagati_ business, but to-night I will
return in the darkness, and to-morrow--_whau_!--it may indeed be that
the appearance of the Red Death has presaged the accession of a new
King--even as those dogs, who were burnt to-day, did declare. How now
for that, Lalusini?"

"The throne of Dingiswayo is older than that of Senzangakona, and both
are older than that of Matyobane," she answered. "Yet I know not--my
_muti_ tells me that the time is not yet. Still, it will come--it will
come."

"It will come--yes, it will come--when we two have long since been food
for the alligators," I answered impatiently. "The King's word is that I
slay this horror--this _tagati_ thing--by the foil of the moon. What if
I fail, Lalusini?"

"Fail? Fail? Does he who rolled back the might of the Twin Stars of
Zulu talk about failure? Now, nay, Untuswa--now, nay," she answered,
with that strange and wonderful smile of hers.

"I know not. Now cast me `the bones,' Lalusini, that I may know what
success, if any, lieth before me against the Red Terror."

"The bones? Ha! Such methods are too childish for such as I, Untuswa,"
she answered lightly. "Yet--wait--"

She ceased to speak and her face clouded, even as I had seen it when she
was about to fall into one of her divining trances. Anxiously I watched
her. Her lips moved, but in silence. Her eyes seemed to look through
me, into nowhere. Then I saw she was holding out something in her hand.
Bending over I gazed. She had held nothing when we sat down nor was
there any place of concealment whence she could have produced anything.
But that which lay in her hand was a flat bag, made of the dressed skin
of an impala. Then she spoke--and her voice was as the voice of one who
talks in a dream.

"See thou part not from this, Untuswa. Yet seek not to look within--
until such time as thy wit and the wit of others fail thee--or the
_muti_ will be of no avail--nay more, will be harmful. But in extremity
m