"I don't know about that, Saduko. I never promised you that I would make
war upon Bangu--with or without the king's leave."
"No, you never promised, but Zikali the Dwarf, the Wise Little One, said
that you would--and does Zikali lie? Ask yourself, who will remember a
certain saying of his about a buffalo with a cleft horn, a pool and a
dry river-bed. Farewell, O my father Macumazahn; I walk with the dawn,
and I leave Mameena in your keeping."
"You mean that you leave me in Mameena's keeping," I began, but already
he was crawling through the hole in the hut.
Well, Mameena kept me very comfortably. She was always in evidence, yet
not too much so.
Heedless of her malice and abuse, she headed off the "Worn-out-old-Cow,"
whom she knew I detested, from my presence. She saw personally to my
bandages, as well as to the cooking of my food, over which matter she
had several quarrels with the bastard, Scowl, who did not like her,
for on him she never wasted any of her sweet looks. Also, as I grew
stronger, she sat with me a good deal, talking, since, by common
consent, Mameena the fair was exempted from all the field, and even
the ordinary household labours that fall to the lot of Kafir women. Her
place was to be the ornament and, I may add, the advertisement of her
father's kraal. Others might do the work, and she saw that they did it.
We discussed all sorts of things, from the Christian and other religions
and European policy down, for her thirst for knowledge seemed to be
insatiable. But what really interested her was the state of affairs in
Zululand, with which she knew I was well acquainted, as a person who
had played a part in its history and who was received and trusted at the
Great House, and as a white man who understood the designs and plans of
the Boers and of the Governor of Natal.
Now, if the old king, Panda, should chance to die, she would ask me,
which of his sons did I think would succeed him--Umbelazi or Cetewayo,
or another? Or, if he did not chance to die, which of them would he name
his heir?
I replied that I was not a prophet, and that she had better ask Zikali
the Wise.
"That is a very good idea," she said, "only I have no one to take me to
him, since my father would not allow me to go with Saduko, his ward."
Then she clapped her hands and added: "Oh, Macumazahn, will you take me?
My father would trust me with you."
"Yes, I dare say," I answered; "but the question is, could I trust
myself with you?"