"Never mind how it went," I replied, springing up, for the old wizard's

talk had stirred sad and bitter memories in my heart. "That time is

dead, Zikali."

"Is it, Macumazahn? Now, from the look upon your face I should have said

that it was still very much alive, as things that happened in our youth

have a way of keeping alive. But doubtless I am mistaken, and it is all

as dead as Dingaan, and as Retief, and as the others, your companions.

At least, although you do not believe it, I saved your life on that

red day, for my own purposes, of course, not because one white life was

anything among so many in my count. And now go to rest, Macumazahn,

go to rest, for although your heart has been awakened by memories this

evening, I promise that you shall sleep well to-night," and throwing the

long hair back off his eyes he looked at me keenly, wagging his big head

to and fro, and burst into another of his great laughs.

So I went. But, ah! as I went I wept.

Anyone who knew all that story would understand why. But this is not the

place to tell it, that tale of my first love and of the terrible events

which befell us in the time of Dingaan. Still, as I say, I have written

it down, and perhaps one day it will be read.




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