CHAPTER XII

THE MESSAGE OF HOKOSA

The weeks passed by, and Hokosa sat in his kraal weaving a great plot.
None suspected him any more, for though he did not belong to it, he was
heard to speak well of the new faith, and to acknowledge that the god of
fire which he had worshipped was a false god. He was humble also towards
the king, but he craved to withdraw himself from all matters of the
State, saying that now he had but one desire--to tend his herds and
garden, and to grow old in peace with the new wife whom he had chosen
and whom he loved. Owen, too, he greeted courteously when he met him,
sending him gifts of corn and cattle for the service of his church.
Moreover, when a messenger came from Hafela, making proposals to him, he
drove him away and laid the matter before the council of the king. Yet
that messenger, who was hunted from the kraal, took back a secret word
for Hafela's ear.

"It is not always winter," was the word, "and it may chance that in
the springtime you shall hear from me." And again, "Say to the Prince
Hafela, that though my face towards him is like a storm, yet behind the
clouds the sun shines ever."

At length there came a day when Noma, his wife, was brought to bed.
Hokosa, her husband, tended her alone, and when the child was born
he groaned aloud and would not suffer her to look upon its face. Yet,
lifting herself, she saw.

"Did I not tell you it was accursed?" she wailed. "Take it away!" and
she sank back in a swoon. So he took the child, and buried it deep in
the cattle-yard by night.

After this it came about that Noma, who, though her mind owned the sway
of his, had never loved him over much, hated her husband Hokosa. Yet he
had this power over her that she could not leave him. But he loved her
more and more, and she had this power over him that she could always
draw him to her. Great as her beauty had ever been, after the birth of
the child it grew greater day by day, but it was an evil beauty, the
beauty of a witch; and this fate fell upon her, that she feared the dark
and would never be alone after the sun had set.

When she was recovered from her illness, Noma sat one night in her hut,
and Hokosa sat there also watching her. The evening was warm, but a
bright fire burned in the hut, and she crouched upon a stool by the
fire, glancing continually over her shoulder.

"Why do you bide by the fire, seeing that it is so hot, Noma?" he asked.

"Because I fear to be away f