k also that you who
know the place where I purpose to hide, would do well to forget
it. Surely you have lived too long, O Opener of Roads, and done
enough evil to the House of Senzangacona, which you ever hated."

So he spoke, and once more I saw his hand steal towards the
spearhead which was hidden beneath the blanket that he wore.

Zikali saw it also and laughed. "Oho!" he laughed, "forgetting
all my warnings, and that the day of my death will be his own,
the King thinks to kill me because I am old and feeble and alone
and unarmed. He thinks to kill me as the Black One thought, as
Dingaan thought, as even Panda thought, yet I live on to this
day. Well, I bear no malice since it is natural that the King
should wish to kill one who knows the secret of where he would
hide himself for his own life's sake. That spearhead which the
King is fingering is sharp, so sharp that my bare breast cannot
turn its edge. I must find me a shield! I must find me a
shield! Fire, you are not yet dead. Awake, make smoke to be my
shield!" and he waved his long, monkey-like arms over the embers,
from which instantly there sprang up a reek of thin white smoke
that appeared to take a vague and indefinite shape which
suggested the shadow of a man; for to me it seemed a nebulous and
wavering shadow, no more.

"What are you staring at, O King?" went on Zikali in a fierce and
thrilling voice. "Who is it that you see? Who has the fire sent
to be my shield? Ghosts are so thick here that I do not know. I
cannot tell one of them from the other. Who is it? Who, who of
all that you have slain and who therefore are your foes?"

"Umbelazi, my brother," groaned Cetewayo. "My brother Umbelazi
stands before me with spear raised; he whom I brought to his
death at the battle of the Tugela. His eyes flame upon me, his
spear is raised to strike. He speaks words I cannot understand.
Protect me, O Wizard! Lord of Spirits, protect me from the
spirit of Umbelazi."

Zikali laughed wildly and continued to wave his arms above the
fire from which smoke poured ever more densely, till the hut was
full of it.

When it cleared away again Cetewayo was gone!

"Saw you ever the like of that?" said Zikali, addressing the
kaross under which I was sweltering. "Tell me, Macumazahn."

"Yes," I answered, thrusting out my head as a tortoise does,
"when in this very hut you seemed to produce the shape, also out
of smoke, I think, of one whom I used to kn