p of pencil that Brother John had given me, which, being economical,
I had saved up ever since. Mavovo took it, and after considering it
carefully as he had done in the case of the feathers, swept up a pile
of ashes with his horny hand from the edge of the largest of the little
fires, that indeed which had represented myself. These ashes he patted
flat. Then he drew on them with the point of the pencil, tracing what
seemed to me to be the rough image of a man, such as children scratch
upon whitewashed walls. When he had finished he sat up and contemplated
his handiwork with all the satisfaction of an artist. A breeze had risen
from the sea and was blowing in little gusts, so that the fine ashes
were disturbed, some of the lines of the picture being filled in and
others altered or enlarged.

For a while Mavovo sat with his eyes shut. Then he opened them, studied
the ashes and what remained of the picture, and taking a blanket that
lay near by, threw it over his own head and over the ashes. Withdrawing
it again presently he cast it aside and pointed to the picture which
was now quite changed. Indeed, in the moonlight, it looked more like a
landscape than anything else.

"All is clear, my father," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "The white
wanderer, Dogeetah, is not dead. He lives, but he is sick. Something is
the matter with one of his legs so that he cannot walk. Perhaps a bone
is broken or some beast has bitten him. He lies in a hut such as Kaffirs
make, only this hut has a verandah round it like your stoep, and there
are drawings on the wall. The hut is a long way off, I don't know
where."

"Is that all?" I asked, for he paused.

"No, not all. Dogeetah is recovering. He will join us in that country
whither we journey, at a time of trouble. That is all, and the fee is
half-a-crown."

"You mean one shilling," I suggested.

"No, my father Macumazana. One shilling for simple magic such as
foretelling the fate of common black people. Half-a-crown for very
difficult magic that has to do with white people, magic of which only
great doctors, like me, Mavovo, are the masters."

I gave him the half-crown and said:

"Look here, friend Mavovo, I believe in you as a fighter and a hunter,
but as a magician I think you are a humbug. Indeed, I am so sure of it
that if ever Dogeetah turns up at a time of trouble in that land whither
we are journeying, I will make you a present of that double-barrelled
rifle of mine which y