proached myself for having brought them into Zululand. It
seemed so terribly sad that these young people who loved each
other and had so bright a future before them, should have escaped
from a tragic past merely to be overwhelmed by such a fate.
Again and again I questioned that lump Kaatje as to the details
of their end and of all that went before and followed after the
murder.

But it was quite useless; indeed, as time went on she seemed to
become more nebulous on the point as though a picture were fading
from her mind. But as to one thing she was always quite clear,
that she had seen them dead and had seen their new-made grave.
This she swore "by God in Heaven," completing the oath with an
outburst of tears in a way that would have carried conviction to
any jury, as it did to me.

And after all, what was more likely in the circumstances? Zikali
had killed them, or caused them to be killed; or possibly they
were killed in spite of him in obedience to the express, or
general, order of the king, if the deed was not done by the
Basutos. And yet an idea occurred to me. How about the woman on
the rock that the Zulus thought was their Princess of the
Heavens? Obviously this must be nonsense, since no such deity
existed, therefore the person must either have been a white woman
or one painted up to resemble a white woman; seen from a distance
in moonlight it was impossible to say which. Now, if it were a
white woman, she might, from her shape and height and the colour
of her hair, be Heda herself. Yet it seemed incredible that
Heda, whom Kaatje had seen dead some days before, could be
masquerading in such a part and make no sign of recognition to
me, even when I covered her with my pistol, whereas that Nombe
would play it was likely enough.

Only then Nombe must be something of a quick-change artist since
but a little while before she was beyond doubt personating the
dead Mameena. If it were not so I must have been suffering from
illusions, for certainly I seemed to see some one who looked like
Mameena, and only Zikali, and through him Nombe, had sufficient
knowledge to enable her to fill that role with such success.
Perhaps the whole business was an illusion, though if so Zikali's
powers must be great indeed. But then how about the assegai that
Nomkubulwana, or rather her effigy, had seemed to hold and throw,
whereof the blade was at present in my saddle-bag. That at any
rate was tangible and real, though of