nd such."

"M-m! Why then, Udolfu, there is still room for you here, for Iqalaqala
can do the women's trade and you can still do that for men--guns and
cartridges--and drink like this--like this--which warms--ah, ah, which
warms," added the chief finishing his allowance of "square face" and
pushing his calabash meaningly towards the other.

"But I will not. There is no room for two here. I will have all the
trade or none."

Mawendhlela's face fell. He was a man who liked his comfort and the
enjoyment of a daily modicum of "square face" gin, or Natal rum had
become essential to this. As a chief he was not unmindful of certain
plain hints on the part of those very high up indeed in the councils of
the nation, to the effect that those under them were required to obtain
the weapons of the white man as far as this could possibly be done. Yet
here was the man who supplied him with both, threatening to withdraw.
He saw the loss of his beloved drink with dismay, and with even greater
dismay he contemplated the disfavour into which he would fall with those
in high quarters, if his people showed but a poor muster in the way of
firearms. The while Dolf Norbury was reading his thoughts, and could
gauge their drift exactly. He knew, too, that personally Mawendhlela
and many of his people would gladly see the last of him--but, the above
considerations were potent.

"We cannot both trade here," he repeated. "Iqalaqala must not be
allowed to come. That's all."

"What can I do, Udolfu?" answered the chief helplessly. "Majendwa is a
bull that roars louder than I, and he has the ear of the Great Great One
himself. It is to Majendwa you must talk."

"Majendwa?" repeated the white man, with a scowl as though the very name
was unpalatable to him--and, indeed, it was--"Majendwa? _Au_! his kraal
is far enough away. But here, you are chief, you, Mawendhlela. And for
some days the people have been talking of the coming of Iqalaqala!
Well, he must not come."

They looked at each other for a little while in silence. Then the chief
spoke.

"I can do nothing, Udolfu," he repeated. "But you--_au_! you white
people can do everything. And I do not want a white man who only brings
trade for women."

"Then you leave it to me?" said the trader, reaching over the square
bottle and replenishing the calabash.

"It is nothing to me," said Mawendhlela, carefully extracting a
cockroach which had fallen from the thatch into his liq