and working face,
and the wild, spasmodic words she spoke. The spirit at least of her
rapid utterances may thus be rendered:--

"Ou, ou, ou, ai, ai, ai. Oh, ye warriors that shall dance before the
great ones of the earth, come! Oh, ye dyers of spears, ye plumed suckers
of blood, come! I, the Isanusi, I, the witch-finder, I, the wise woman,
I, the seer of strange sights, I, the reader of dark thoughts, call ye!
Come, ye fierce ones; come, ye brave ones, come, and do honour to the
white lords! Ah, I hear ye! Ah, I smell ye! Ah, I see ye; ye come, ye
come!"

Hardly had her invocation trailed off into the "Ou, ou, ou, ai, ai, ai,"
with which it had opened, when there rushed over the edge of the hill,
hard by, another figure scarcely less wild, but not so repulsive in
appearance. This last was a finely-built warrior arrayed in the full
panoply of savage war. With his right hand he grasped his spears, and
on his left hung his large black ox-hide shield, lined on its inner side
with spare assegais. From the "man's" ring round his head arose a single
tall grey plume, robbed from the Kafir crane. His broad shoulders were
bare, and beneath the arm-pits was fastened a short garment of strips of
skin, intermixed with ox-tails of different colours. From his waist hung
a rude kilt made chiefly of goat's hair, whilst round the calf of the
right leg was fixed a short fringe of black ox-tails. As he stood before
us with lifted weapon and outstretched shield, his plume bending to the
breeze, and his savage aspect made more savage still by the graceful,
statuesque pose, the dilated eye and warlike mould of the set features,
as he stood there, an emblem and a type of the times and the things
which are passing away, his feet resting on ground which he held on
sufferance, and his hands grasping weapons impotent as a child's
toy against those of the white man,--he who was the rightful lord of
all,--what reflections did he not induce, what a moral did he not teach!

The warrior left us little time, however, for either reflections or
deductions, for, striking his shield with his assegai, he rapidly poured
forth this salutation:--

"Bayete, Bayete, O chief from the olden times, O lords and chief of
chiefs! Pagadi, the son of Masingorano, the great chief, the leader of
brave ones, the son of Ulubako, greets you. Pagadi is humble before you;
he comes with warrior and with shield, but he comes to lay them at your
feet. O father of chiefs, son