t was
rumoured that Zikali had dressed up a white woman to play the
part of the Spirit. Yet he could not be sure of the matter,
since it was also said that when some of Cetewayo's people went
to kill this white woman in the Black Kloof, Nomkubulwana, the
Princess of Heaven herself, rose before them and frightened them
away.

I remarked that this was very strange, and then quite casually
asked him whom Zikali had dressed up to play the part of the dead
Mameena upon that same occasion, since this was a point upon
which I always thirsted for definite intelligence. He stared at
me and replied that I ought to be able to answer my own question,
since I had been much nearer to her who looked like Mameena than
any one else, so near indeed that all present distinctly saw her
kiss me, as it was well known she had liked to do while still
alive. I replied indignantly that they saw wrong and repeated my
question. Then he answered straight out--

"O Macumazahn, we Zulus believe that what we saw on that night
was not Nombe or another dressed up, but the spirit of the witch
Mameena itself. We believe it because we could see the light of
Zikali's fire through her, not always, but sometimes; also
because all that she said has come true, though everything is not
yet finished."

I could get no more out of him about the matter, for when I tried
to speak of it again, he turned the subject, telling me of his
wonderful escapes during the war. Presently he rose to go and
said casually--

"Surely I grow old in these times of trouble, Macumazahn, for
thoughts slip through my head like water through the fingers.
Almost I had forgotten what I wished to say to you. The other
day I met Zikali, the Opener of Roads. He told me that you were
in Zululand and that I should meet you--he did not say where,
only that when I did meet you, I was to give you a message. This
was the message--that when on your way to Natal you came to the
kraal Jazi, you would find him there; also another whom you used
to know, and must be sure not to go away without seeing him,
since that was about to happen in which you must take your part."

"Zikali!" I exclaimed. "I have heard nothing of him since the
war. I thought that by now he was certainly dead."

"Oh! no, Macumazahn, he is certainly not dead, but just the same
as ever. Indeed it is believed that he and no other has kept all
this broth of trouble on the boil, some say for Cetewayo's sake,
and some