Fearing lest something unpleasant should ensue, for I saw Saduko biting
his lips with rage not unmixed with fear, and remembering Masapo's
reputation as a wizard, I took advantage of this pause to bid a general
good night to the company and retire to my camp.
What happened immediately after I left I do not know, but just before
dawn on the following morning I was awakened from sleep in my wagon by
my servant Scowl, who said that a messenger had come from the huts of
Saduko, begging that I would proceed there at once and bring the white
man's medicines, as his child was very ill. Of course I got up and went,
taking with me some ipecacuanha and a few other remedies that I thought
might be suitable for infantile ailments.
Outside the huts, which I reached just as the sun began to rise, I was
met by Saduko himself, who was coming to seek me, as I saw at once, in a
state of terrible grief.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"O Macumazana," he answered, "that dog Masapo has bewitched my boy, and
unless you can save him he dies."
"Nonsense," I said, "why do you utter wind? If the babe is sick, it is
from some natural cause."
"Wait till you see it," he replied.
Well, I went into the big hut, and there found Nandie and some other
women, also a native doctor or two. Nandie was seated on the floor
looking like a stone image of grief, for she made no sound, only pointed
with her finger to the infant that lay upon a mat in front of her.
A single glance showed me that it was dying of some disease of which
I had no knowledge, for its dusky little body was covered with red
blotches and its tiny face twisted all awry. I told the women to heat
water, thinking that possibly this might be a case of convulsions, which
a hot bath would mitigate; but before it was ready the poor babe uttered
a thin wail and died.
Then, when she saw that her child was gone, Nandie spoke for the first
time.
"The wizard has done his work well," she said, and flung herself face
downwards on the floor of the hut.
As I did not know what to answer, I went out, followed by Saduko.
"What has killed my son, Macumazahn?" he asked in a hollow voice, the
tears running down his handsome face, for he had loved his firstborn.
"I cannot tell," I replied; "but had he been older I should have thought
he had eaten something poisonous, which seems impossible."
"Yes, Macumazahn, and the poison that he has eaten came from the breath
of a wizard whom you may chance to have seen kiss him last night. Well,
his life shall be avenged."