hut.

The latter was lighted by two candles stuck in bottle necks, a device
learned from the white man. Babatyana and several others started pipes,
also an institution learned from the white man. But Manamandhla, the
conservative Zulu, confined himself to the contents of his snuff-horn.
Secretly, in his heart of hearts, he held his entertainers in some
degree of contempt, as became one of the royal race. Babatyana was an
influential chief, but only so by favour of the whites. What was he but
a Kafula [term of contempt used by Zulus for Natal natives]? But
Manamandhla was far too shrewd to impair the success of his mission by
suffering any of his secret feelings to appear.

All the same, although he lived on the wrong side of the river from the
other's point of view, there was very little admixture of baser blood in
Babatyana's system. His father had been a Zulu of pure blood and his
mother very nearly so. They had crossed into Natal as refugees, after
Nongalaza defeated Dingane, and had there remained. Seen in the dim
light of the candles, Babatyana was an elderly man, with a shrewd, lined
face; in fact there was no perceptible difference in his aspect or
bearing from that of those who affected to despise him. Now he turned
to his guest.

"The news, brother, what is it?"

"The news? _Au_! it is great. Everywhere we have our emissaries;
everywhere the people are listening. They are tired of being dogs to
the whites: tired of having to send their children away to work, so as
to find money to pay the whites. Soon our plan of deliverance will be
complete, soon when we have brought home universal brotherhood to those
of one colour--and, brothers, the time is now very near."

"And that time--when it comes--who will lead the people, _Umfundisi_?"
asked an old head-ringed man who was seated next to the chief.

"The leader will be found," was the ready answer. "It may be that he is
found--already found."

"Is he found on this side of the river or on the other?" went on the old
man, who was inclined to "heckle" the visitor.

"That, as yet, is dark. But--he is found."

A murmur went round the group. They were becoming interested. Only
Manamandhla remained perfectly impassive. He made no remarks and asked
no questions.

The conversation ran on in subdued tones, which however grew more and
more animated. The emissary was glib of tongue and knew how to hold his
audience. At last Babatyana said:

"It