Child of Storm

"Get thee behind me, Satan," I said in English, then added in Zulu: "I

don't know. If your story is true I should have no objection to helping

to kill Bangu; but I must learn lots more about this business first.

Meanwhile I am going on a shooting trip to-morrow with Umbezi the Fat,

and I like you, O Chooser of the Road of Spears and Blood. Will you be

my companion and earn the gun with two mouths in payment?"

"Inkoosi," he said, lifting his hand in salute with a flash of his dark

eyes, "you are generous, you honour me. What is there that I should love

better? Yet," he added, and his face fell, "first I must ask Zikali the

Little, Zikali my foster-father."

"Oh!" I said, "so you are still tied to the Wizard's girdle, are you?"

"Not so, Macumazahn; but I promised him not long ago that I would

undertake no enterprise, save that you know of, until I had spoken with

him."

"How far off does Zikali live?" I asked Saduko.

"One day's journeying. Starting at sunrise I can be there by sunset."

"Good! Then I will put off the shooting for three days and come with you

if you think that this wonderful old dwarf will receive me."

"I believe that he will, Macumazahn, for this reason--he told me that

I should meet you and love you, and that you would be mixed up in my

fortunes."

"Then he poured moonshine into your gourd instead of beer," I answered.

"Would you keep me here till midnight listening to such foolishness when

we must start at dawn? Begone now and let me sleep."

"I go," he answered with a little smile. "But if this is so, O

Macumazana, why do you also wish to drink of the moonshine of Zikali?"

and he went.

Yet I did not sleep very well that night, for Saduko and his strange and

terrible story had taken a hold of my imagination. Also, for reasons of

my own, I greatly wished to see this Zikali, of whom I had heard a great

deal in past years. I wished further to find out if he was a common

humbug, like so many witch-doctors, this dwarf who announced that my

fortunes were mixed up with those of his foster-son, and who at least

could tell me something true or false about the history and position

of Bangu, a person for whom I had conceived a strong dislike, possibly

quite unjustified by the facts. But more than all did I wish to see

Mameena, whose beauty or talents produced so much impression upon the

native mind. Perhaps if I went to see Zikali she would be back at her

father's kraal before we started on our shooting trip.