warf, Zikali, known as
"The-Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born," also more universally
among the Zulus as "Opener-of-Roads." When we had talked of many things
connected with the state of Zululand and its politics, I rose to leave
for my waggon, since I never cared for sleeping in the Black Kloof if it
could be avoided.

"Is there nothing else that you want to ask me, Macumazahn?" asked
the old dwarf, tossing back his long hair and looking at--I had almost
written through--me.

I shook my head.

"That is strange, Macumazahn, for I seem to see something written on
your mind--something to do with spirits."

Then I remembered all the problems that had been troubling me, although
in truth I had never thought of propounding them to Zikali.

"Ah! it comes back, does it?" he exclaimed, reading my thought. "Out
with it, then, Macumazahn, while I am in a mood to answer, and before
I grow tired, for you are an old friend of mine and will so remain till
the end, many years hence, and if I can serve you, I will."

I filled my pipe and sat down again upon the stool of carved red-wood
which had been brought for me.

"You are named 'Opener-of-Roads,' are you not, Zikali?" I said.

"Yes, the Zulus have always called me that, since before the days of
Chaka. But what of names, which often enough mean nothing at all?"

"Only that _I_ want to open a road, Zikali, that which runs across the
River of Death."

"Oho!" he laughed, "it is very easy," and snatching up a little assegai
that lay beside him, he proffered it to me, adding, "Be brave now and
fall on that. Then before I have counted sixty the road will be wide
open, but whether you will see anything on it I cannot tell you."

Again I shook my head and answered,

"It is against our law. Also while I still live I desire to know whether
I shall meet certain others on that road after my time has come to cross
the River. Perhaps you who deal with spirits, can prove the matter to
me, which no one else seems able to do."

"Oho!" laughed Zikali again. "What do my ears hear? Am I, the poor Zulu
cheat, as you will remember once you called me, Macumazahn, asked
to show that which is hidden from all the wisdom of the great White
People?"

"The question is," I answered with irritation, "not what you are asked
to do, but what you can do."

"That I do not know yet, Macumazahn. Whose spirits do you desire to see?
If that of a woman called Mameena is one of them, I think that perh