ese Kendah were supposed to
dwell, but at least I might be able to kill some elephants in the wild
country beyond Zululand.

While we were talking I heard the gun fired which announced the arrival
of the English mail, and stepping to the end of the garden, saw the
steamer lying at anchor outside the bar. Then I went indoors to write a
few business letters which, since I had become immersed in the affairs
of that unlucky gold mine, had grown to be almost a daily task with me.
I had got through several with many groanings, for none were agreeable
in their tenor, when Hans poked his head through the window in a silent
kind of a way as a big snake might do, and said: "Baas, I think there
are two baases out on the road there who are looking for you. Very fine
baases whom I don't know."

"Shareholders in the Bona Fide Gold Mine," thought I to myself, then
added as I prepared to leave through the back door: "If they come here
tell them I am not at home. Tell them I left early this morning for the
Congo River to look for the sources of the Nile."

"Yes, Baas," said Hans, collapsing on to the stoep.

I went out through the back door, sorrowing that I, Allan Quatermain,
should have reached a rung in the ladder of life whence I shrank from
looking any stranger in the face, for fear of what he might have to say
to me. Then suddenly my pride asserted itself. After all what was there
of which I should be ashamed? I would face these irate shareholders as I
had faced the others yesterday.

I walked round the little house to the front garden which was planted
with orange trees, and up to a big moonflower bush, I believe _datura_
is its right name, that grew near the pomegranate hedge which separated
my domain from the road. There a conversation was in progress, if so it
may be called.

"_Ikona_" (that is: "I don't know"), "_Inkoosi_" (i.e. "Chief"), said
some Kafir in a stupid drawl.

Thereon a voice that instantly struck me as familiar, answered:

"We want to know where the great hunter lives."

"_Ikona_," said the Kafir.

"Can't you remember his native name?" asked another voice which was also
familiar to me, for I never forget voices though I am unable to place
them at once.

"The great hunter, Here-come-a-zany," said the first voice triumphantly,
and instantly there flashed back upon my mind a vision of the splendid
drawing-room at Ragnall Castle and of an imposing majordomo introducing
into it two white-robed, Arab-lo