the Motombo he made me tell him the
story three times over. At the conclusion of the third recital he said
quietly:
"My lord Macumazana, you are a great man, and I am glad to have lived if
only to know you. No one else could have done these deeds."
Of course I was complimented, but felt bound to point out Hans's share
in our joint achievement.
"Yes, yes," he answered, "the Spotted Snake, Inhlatu, has the cunning to
scheme, but you have the power to do, and what is the use of a brain to
plot without the arm to strike? The two do not go together because the
plotter is not a striker. His mind is different. If the snake had
the strength and brain of the elephant, and the fierce courage of the
buffalo, soon there would be but one creature left in the world. But
the Maker of all things knew this and kept them separate, my lord
Macumazana."
I thought, and still think, that there was a great deal of wisdom in
this remark, simple as it seems. Oh! surely many of these savages whom
we white men despise, are no fools.
After about an hour's march we camped till the moon rose which it did
at ten o'clock, when we went on again till near dawn, as it was thought
better that Stephen should travel in the cool of the night. I remember
that our cavalcade, escorted before, behind and on either flank by
the Mazitu troops with their tall spears, looked picturesque and even
imposing as it wound over those wide downs in the lovely and peaceful
light of the moon.
There is no need for me to set out the details of the rest of our
journey, which was not marked by any incident of importance.
Stephen bore it very well, and Brother John, who was one of the best
doctors I ever met, gave good reports of him, but I noted that he did
not seem to get any stronger, although he ate plenty of food. Also, Miss
Hope, who nursed him, for her mother seemed to have no taste that way,
informed me that he slept but little, as indeed I found out for myself.
"O Allan," she said, just before we reached Beza Town, "Stephen, your
son" (she used to call him my son, I don't know why) "is sick. The
father says it is only the spear-hurt, but I tell you it is more than
the spear-hurt. He is sick in himself," and the tears that filled her
grey eyes showed me that she spoke what she believed. As a matter of
fact she was right, for on the night after we reached the town, Stephen
was seized with an attack of some bad form of African fever, which in
his weak stat
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