his profession,
similar to that which might prompt the civilised man of science to
welcome and investigate any new departure in scientific discovery. But
of course the aim towards which Magwegwe and his associates and
employers were supposed to be working, was, in the shrewd eyes of this
old sorcerer, the veriest humbug.

Personally he had no particular desire to see the whites `driven into
the sea'; an eventuality he was far too astute to believe for a moment
possible. He was old enough to remember how, under former kings in
Zululand, those of his craft, no matter how eminent and skilled, held
their lives and possessions on precarious tenure. Dingane and Mpande,
for instance, expected a great deal--a great deal too much--from their
sorcerers. Cetywayo, to be sure, did not bother his head about them, to
speak of. But there, under the rule of the _Amangisi_, he and his
brother witch-doctors could practise unhindered, always provided they
did so with due care and secrecy. What, then, was to be gained by
trying to upset the existing state of things?

These considerations should, on every ground of reason and
self-interest, have ranged old Zisiso on the side of law and order, yet
they did not. The South African native is a strangely complex animal,
and there are times when it is impossible to tell what line he may or
may not adopt, no matter how powerfully self-interest ought to move him
in a given direction, and such was the case with this one. Most
probably he was actuated by the sheer love of plotting which had
characterised his profession from time immemorial; which in fact, was
absolutely essential to the keeping-up of its very existence.

"He who comes this night," went on Nxala, "he who comes this night, will
bring back the drinking bowl of him who is gone. He has put another in
its place, and when the white doctor sees it, _au_! he will pronounce
that an _isanusi_ of the standing of Zisiso does not know what _muti_
is," he added quizzically.

"I trust not this dog of Ntwezi's," said Nteseni, gruffly. This chief
had a strong and heavy face, and though large of frame, unlike most of
his rank his size was not due to obesity--the result of a great
indulgence in _tywala_ and very little exercise. On the contrary he was
a savage of weight and muscle, and would have proved an uncommonly tough
customer even to a more than average white man if once they got to close
grips.

"Nobody trusts anybody, brother,"