aps I
whom she loved----"[*]

[*] For the history of Mameena see the book called "Child of
Storm."--Editor.

"She is _not_ one of them, Zikali. Moreover, if she loved you, you paid
back her love with death."

"Which perhaps was the kindest thing I could do, Macumazahn, for reasons
that you may be able to guess, and others with which I will not trouble
you. But if not hers, whose? Let me look, let me look! Why, there seems
to be two of them, head-wives, I mean, and I thought that white men only
took one wife. Also a multitude of others; their faces float up in the
water of your mind. An old man with grey hair, little children, perhaps
they were brothers and sisters, and some who may be friends. Also very
clear indeed that Mameena whom you do not wish to see. Well, Macumazahn,
this is unfortunate, since she is the only one whom I can show you,
or rather put you in the way of finding. Unless indeed there are other
Kaffir women----"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, Macumazahn, that only black feet travel on the road which I can
open; over those in which ran white blood I have no power."

"Then it is finished," I said, rising again and taking a step or two
towards the gate.

"Come back and sit down, Macumazahn. I did not say so. Am I the only
ruler of magic in Africa, which I am told is a big country?"

I came back and sat down, for my curiosity, a great failing with me, was
excited.

"Thank you, Zikali," I said, "but I will have no dealings with more of
your witch-doctors."

"No, no, because you are afraid of them; quite without reason,
Macumazahn, seeing that they are all cheats except myself. I am the last
child of wisdom, the rest are stuffed with lies, as Chaka found out when
he killed every one of them whom he could catch. But perhaps there might
be a white doctor who would have rule over white spirits."

"If you mean missionaries----" I began hastily.

"No, Macumazahn, I do not mean your praying men who are cast in one
mould and measured with one rule, and say what they are taught to say,
not thinking for themselves."

"Some of them think, Zikali."

"Yes, and then the others fall on them with big sticks. The real priest
is he to whom the Spirit comes, not he who feeds upon its wrappings, and
speaks through a mask carved by his father's fathers. I am a priest like
that, which is why all my fellowship have hated me."

"If so, you have paid back their hate, Zikali, but cease to cast r