hed forward howling that now was the time
for him and his "dogs"--that the stranger's _muti_ had been tried, and
that now it was his own turn.

Kalipe was standing near the Great Great One, and as the head _izanusi_
thus bounded forward he advanced a pace, and I could see that he held
his broad _umkonto_ gripped, and in readiness. So, too, did the picked
warriors ranged at his back; and I, who knew what underlay all this, was
likewise prepared to spring up, and deal forth death. But Umzilikazi
changed not a muscle, as he sat playing with his broad-bladed spear,
similar to the one which he had bestowed upon me. Yet in his eyes
burned a soft and cruel light, as he met the glowering glances of
Notalwa and the _izanusi_.

"Patience!" he said, softly and pleasantly, waving these back.
"Proceed, Masuka."

The old Mosutu muttered a few words to one of his young assistants, who
started off in the direction of the magician's hut, and presently
reappeared, bearing upon his head a large bowl of burnt clay. This was
lowered to the earth, and now I knew that something terrible would be
manifested; for I had already looked into that bowl myself, and terrible
things had been shown me, which, indeed, came to pass, as you know,
_Nkose_.

The bowl was half-filled with some black yet shining, liquid; and over
this old Masuka crouched, spreading forth his skinny and clawlike hands;
now chanting high, shrill snatches of a strange song, now muttering
incantations in an unknown tongue. Then he looked up.

"Draw near, Black Elephant, thou ruler of the world," he said. "Look in
the face of this _muti_, and say what thou seest."

Umzilikazi rose, and, advancing with majestic step, stood, and with head
slightly bent, gazed downward into the bowl. All the people held their
breath for awe.

"I see a face," he said. "Yes; it is the face of a man having a ring
on. Hither, Mcumbete! Look with me. Whose is the face?"

The old _induna_, his brow clouded with anxiety, advanced to the side of
the King.

"_Hau_!" he cried, with a start of amazement. "It is indeed a face,
Great Great One. It is the face of Ncwelo."

A deep murmur of awe went up from all who heard. Ncwelo, though a chief
of some influence, was not an _induna_. His place at the head of his
people was near me. Glancing at him, I could see that his look was that
of a man who knows himself to be already dead.

"Look again, Mcumbete," said the King. "I see another f