y movement of outstretched arms and down-pointing thumbs.

Then silence, during which Zikali stamped upon all the remaining
markings, saying:

"I thank you, O Dust, though I am sorry to have troubled you for so
small a matter. So, so," he went on presently, "a royal boy-child
is dead, and you think by witchcraft. Let us find out if he died by
witchcraft or as others die, by command of the Heavens that need them.
What! Here is one mark which I have left. Look! It grows red, it is full
of spots! The child died with a twisted face."

"Izwa! Izwa! Izwa!" (crescendo).

"This death was not natural. Now, was it witchcraft or was it poison?
Both, I think, both. And whose was the child? Not that of a son of the
King, I think. Oh, yes, you hear me, People, you hear me; but be silent;
I do not need your help. No, not of a son; of a daughter, then." He
turned and, looked about him till his eye fell upon a group of women,
amongst whom sat Nandie, dressed like a common person. "Of a daughter,
a daughter--" He walked to the group of women. "Why, none of these are
royal; they are the children of low people. And yet--and yet I seem to
smell the blood of Senzangakona."

He sniffed at the air as a dog does, and as he sniffed drew ever nearer
to Nandie, till at last he laughed and pointed to her.

"_Your_ child, Princess, whose name I do not know. Your firstborn child,
whom you loved more than your own heart."

She rose.

"Yes, yes, Nyanga," she cried. "I am the Princess Nandie, and he was my
child, whom I loved more than my own heart."

"Haha!" said Zikali. "Dust, you did not lie to me. My Spirit, you did
not lie to me. But now, tell me, Dust--and tell me, my Spirit--who
killed this child?"

He began to waddle round the circle, an extraordinary sight, covered
as he was with grey grime, varied with streaks of black skin where the
perspiration had washed the dust away.

Presently he came opposite to me, and, to my dismay, paused, sniffing at
me as he had at Nandie.

"Ah! ah! O Macumazana," he said, "you have something to do with this
matter," a saying at which all that audience pricked their ears.

Then I rose up in wrath and fear, knowing my position to be one of some
danger.

"Wizard, or Smeller-out of Wizards, whichever you name yourself," I
called in a loud voice, "if you mean that _I_ killed Nandie's child, you
lie!"

"No, no, Macumazahn," he answered, "but you tried to save it, and
therefore you had something to do