ou what
they can."

"_Ow!_" said the spokesman, "he calls us wanderers! Either he must be a
very great man or he is mad."

"You are right. I _am_ a great man," I answered, yawning, "and if you
trouble me too much you will see that I can be mad also. Now what do you
want?"

"We are messengers from the great Chief Umslopogaas, Captain of the
People of the Axe, and we want tribute," answered the man in a somewhat
changed tone.

"Do you? Then you won't get it. I thought that only the King of Zululand
had a right to tribute, and your Captain's name is not Cetywayo, is it?"

"Our Captain is King here," said the man still more uncertainly.

"Is he indeed? Then away with you back to him and tell this King of whom
I have never heard, though I have a message for a certain Umslopogaas,
that Macumazahn, Watcher-by-Night, intends to visit him to-morrow, if
he will send a guide at the first light to show the best path for the
waggon."

"Hearken," said the man to his companions, "this is Macumazahn himself
and no other. Well, we thought it, for who else would have dared----"

Then they saluted with their axes, calling me "Chief" and other fine
names, and departed as they had come, at a run, calling out that my
message should be delivered and that doubtless Umslopogaas would send
the guide.

So it came about that, quite contrary to my intention, after all
circumstances brought me to the Town of the Axe. Even to the last moment
I had not meant to go there, but when the tribute was demanded I saw
that it was best to do so, and having once passed my word it could
not be altered. Indeed, I felt sure that in this event there would be
trouble and that my oxen would be stolen, or worse.

So Fate having issued its decree, of which Hans's version was that
Zikali, or his Great Medicine, had so arranged things, I shrugged my
shoulders and waited.

CHAPTER III

UMSLOPOGAAS OF THE AXE

Next morning at the dawn guides arrived from the Town of the Axe,
bringing with them a yoke of spare oxen, which showed that its Chief was
really anxious to see me. So, in due course we inspanned and started,
the guides leading us by a rough but practicable road down the steep
hillside to the saucer-like plain beneath, where I saw many cattle
grazing. Travelling some miles across this plain, we came at last to a
river of no great breadth that encircled a considerable Kaffir town
on three sides, the fourth being protected by a little line of