after another he called out the names of the hunters,
beginning with his own as captain; passed the feather which represented
each of them through the particular fire of his destiny, examined
and laid it down. After this he seemed to go to sleep again for a few
minutes, then woke up as a man does from a natural slumber, yawned and
stretched himself.

"Speak," said his audience, with great anxiety. "Have you seen? Have you
heard? What does your Snake tell you of me? Of me? Of me? Of me?"

"I have seen, I have heard," he answered. "My Snake tells me that this
will be a very dangerous journey. Of those who go on it six will die by
the bullet, by the spear or by sickness, and others will be hurt."

"_Ow?_" said one of them, "but which will die and which will come out
safe? Does not your Snake tell you that, O Doctor?"

"Yes, of course my Snake tells me that. But my Snake tells me also
to hold my tongue on the matter, lest some of us should be turned to
cowards. It tells me further that the first who should ask me more, will
be one of those who must die. Now do you ask? Or you? Or you? Or you?
Ask if you will."

Strange to say no one accepted the invitation. Never have I seen a body
of men so indifferent to the future, at least to every appearance. One
and all they seemed to come to the conclusion that so far as they were
concerned it might be left to look after itself.

"My Snake told me something else," went on Mavovo. "It is that if among
this company there is any jackal of a man who, thinking that he might be
one of the six to die, dreams to avoid his fate by deserting, it will be
of no use. For then my Snake will point him out and show me how to deal
with him."

Now with one voice each man present there declared that desertion from
the lord Macumazana was the last thing that could possibly occur to him.
Indeed, I believe that those brave fellows spoke truth. No doubt they
put faith in Mavovo's magic after the fashion of their race. Still the
death he promised was some way off, and each hoped he would be one of
the six to escape. Moreover, the Zulu of those days was too accustomed
to death to fear its terrors over much.

One of them did, however, venture to advance the argument, which
Mavovo treated with proper contempt, that the shillings paid for this
divination should be returned by him to the next heirs of such of them
as happened to decease. Why, he asked, should these pay a shilling in
order to be told th