the present they would say little or nothing, except that they
were certain there would be war. Of Anscombe and Heda I could
hear nothing, and indeed did not dare to make any direct
inquiries concerning them, but several reliable men assured me
that the last missionaries and traders having departed, there was
not a white man, woman or child left in Zululand except myself.
It was "all black" they said, referring to the colour of their
people, as it had been before the time of Chaka. So I was forced
to eat out my heart with anxiety in silence, hoping and praying
that Zikali had played an honest part and sent them away safely.

Why should he not have done so, seeing that it was my presence he
had desired, not theirs? They were only taken, or rather snared,
because they were with me and could not be separated, or so I
believed at the time.

One ray of comfort I did get. About the fifth day after my
interview I saw Goza, who told me that the king's messengers were
back from the Black Kloof and had brought "a word" for me from
Zikali himself. The word was--

"Bid Goza say to Macumazahn that I was sorry not to see him to
say good-bye, because that morning I slept heavily. Bid him say
that I am glad he has seen the king, since for this purpose I
sought his presence in Zululand. Bid him say that he is to fear
nothing, and that if his heart is heavy about others whom he
loves, he should make it light again, since the Spirits have them
in their keeping as they have him, and never were they or he more
safe than they are to-day."

Now I looked at Goza and asked if I could see this messenger. He
replied, No, as he had already been despatched upon another
errand. Then I asked him if the messenger had said anything
else. He answered, Yes, one thing that he had forgotten, namely
that the writing about blankets should now be in Natal. Then
suddenly he changed the subject and asked me if I would like to
accompany him to the Valley of Bones where he was ordered to
inspect the huts which were being built for Zikali and his
people. Of course I said I should, hoping, quite without result,
that I might get something more out of him on the road.

Now this town of Cetewayo's stands, or rather stood, for it has
long been burnt, on the slope of the hills to the north-east of
the plains of Ulundi. Above it these hills grow steeper, and
deep in the recesses of one of them is the Valley of Bones.
There is nothing particularly i