s ago. I remember that the last
time I saw it was in the hands of a woman named Mameena to whom I
showed it as a strange and bloody thing. After her death I found
that it was gone, so doubtless she took it with her to the
Under-world and there gave it to the Queen Nomkubulwana, with
whom you may remember this Mameena returned from that Under-world
yonder in the Bones."

"It may be so," said Cetewayo sullenly, "yet it was no spirit
iron that cut my thigh, but what do I know of the ways of
Spirits? Wizard, I would speak with you in your hut alone where
no ear can hear us."

"My hut is the King's," answered Zikali, "yet let the King
remember that those Spirits of which he does not know the ways,
can always hear, yes, even the thoughts of men, and on them do
judgment."

"Fear not," said Cetewayo, "amongst many other things I remember
this also."

Then Zikali turned and crept into the hut, whispering as he
passed me--

"Lie silent for your life." And Cetewayo having bidden his
retinue to depart outside the fence and await him there, followed
after him.

They sat them down on either side of the smouldering fire and
stared at each other through the thin smoke there in the gloom of
the hut. By turning my head that the foot of the king had
brushed as he passed, I could watch them both. Cetewayo spoke
the first in a hoarse, slow voice, saying--

"Wizard, I am in danger of my life and I have come to you who
know all the secrets of this land, that you may tell me in what
place I may hide where the white men cannot find me. It must be
told into my ear alone, since I dare not trust the matter to any
other, at any rate until I must. They are traitors every man of
them, yes, even those who seem to be most faithful. The fallen
man has no friends, least of all if he chances to be a king.
Only the dead will keep his counsel. Tell me of the place I
need."

"Dingaan, who was before you, once asked this same thing of me, O
King, when he was flying from Panda your father, and the Boers.
I gave him advice that he did not take, but sought a refuge of
his own upon a certain Ghost-mountain. What happened to him
there that Mopo, of whom you spoke a while ago, can tell you if
he still lives."*

[*--See _Nada the Lily._--EDITOR.]

"Surely you are an ill-omened night-bird who thus croak to me
continually of the death of kings," broke in Cetewayo with
suppressed rage. Then calming himself with an effort added,
"Tell me n