The Chief Umslopogaas was seated on a stool by the door of his hut with his rhinoceros–horn–handled axe which was fastened to his right wrist by a thong, leaning against his thigh, and a wolfskin hanging from his broad shoulders. Very grim and fierce he looked thus, with the red light of the sunset playing on him. He greeted me and pointed to another stool on which I sat myself down. Apparently he had been watching my eyes, for he said,
"I see that like other creatures which move at night, such as leopards and hyenas, you take note of all, O Watcher–by–Night, even of the soldier who guards this place and of where the fence is set and of how its gate is fashioned."
"Had I not done so I should have been dead long ago, O Chief."
"Yes, and because it is not my nature to do so as I should, perchance I shall soon be dead. It is not enough to be fierce and foremost in the battle, Macumazahn. He who would sleep safe and of whom, when he dies, folk will say 'He has eaten' (i.e., he has lived out his life), must do more than this. He must guard his tongue and even his thoughts! he must listen to the stirring of rats in the thatch and look for snakes in the grass; he must trust few, and least of all those who sleep upon his bosom. But those who have the Lion's blood in them or who are prone to charge like a buffalo, often neglect these matters and therefore in the end they fall into a pit."
"Yes," I answered, "especially those who have the lion's blood in them, whether that lion be man or beast."
This I said because of the rumours I had heard that this Slaughterer was in truth the son of Chaka. Therefore not knowing whether or no he were playing on the word "lion," which was Chaka's title, I wished to draw him, especially as I saw in his face a great likeness to Chaka's brother Dingaan, whom, it was whispered, this same Umslopogaas had slain. As it happened I failed, for after a pause he said,
"Why do you come to visit me, Macumazahn, who have never done so before?"
"I do not come to visit you, Umslopogaas. That was not my intention. You brought me, or rather the flooded rivers and you together brought me, for I was on my way to Natal and could not cross the drifts."
"Yet I think you have a message for me, White Man, for not long ago a certain wandering witch–doctor who came here told me to expect you and that you had words to say to me."
"Did he, Umslopogaas? Well, it is true that I have a message, though it is one that I did not mean to deliver."
"Yet being here, perchance you will deliver it, Macumazahn, for those who have messages and will not speak them, sometimes come to trouble."
"Yes, being here, I will deliver it, seeing that so it seems to be fated. Tell me, do you chance to know a certain Small One who is great, a certain Old One whose brain is young, a doctor who is called Opener–of–Roads?"
"I have heard of him, as have my forefathers for generations."
"Indeed, and if it pleases you to tell me, Umslopogaas, what might be the names of those forefathers of yours, who have heard of this doctor for generations? They must have been short–lived men and as such I should like to know of them."
"That you cannot," replied Umslopogaas shortly, "since they are hlonipa (i.e. not to be spoken) in this land."
"Indeed," I said again. "I thought that rule applied only to the names of kings, but of course I am but an ignorant white man who may well be mistaken on such matters of your Zulu customs."
"Yes, O Macumazahn, you may be mistaken or—you may not. It matters nothing. But what of this message of yours?"
"It came at the end of a long story, O Bulalio. But since you seek to know, these were the words of it, so nearly as I can remember them."
Then sentence by sentence I repeated to him all that Zikali had said to me when he called me back after bidding me farewell, which doubtless he did because he wished to cut his message more deeply into the tablets of my mind.
Umslopogaas listened to every syllable with a curious intentness, and then asked me to repeat it all again, which I did.
"Lousta! Monazi!" he said slowly. "Well, you heard those names to–day, did you not, White Man? And you heard certain things from the lips of this Monazi who was angry, that give colour to that talk of the Opener–of–Roads. It seems to me," he added, glancing about him and speaking in a low voice, "that what I suspected is true and that without doubt I am betrayed."
"I do not understand," I replied indifferently. "All this talk is dark to me, as is the message of the Opener–of–Roads, or rather its meaning. By whom and about what are you betrayed?"
"Let that snake sleep. Do not kick it with your foot. Suffice it you to know that my head hangs upon this matter; that I am a rat in a forked stick, and if the stick is pressed on by a heavy hand, then where is the rat?"
"Where all rats go, I suppose, that is, unless they are wise rats that bite the hand which holds the stick before it is pressed down."
"What is the rest of this story of yours, Macumazahn, which was told before the Opener–of–Roads gave you that message? Does it please you to repeat it to me that I may judge of it with my ears?"
"Certainly," I answered, "on one condition, that what the ears hear, the heart shall keep to itself alone."
Umslopogaas stooped and laid his hand upon the broad blade of the weapon beside him, saying,
"By the Axe I swear it. If I break the oath be the Axe my doom."
Then I told him the tale, as I have set it down already, thinking to myself that of it he would understand little, being but a wild warrior–man. As it chanced, however, I was mistaken, for he seemed to understand a great deal, perchance because such primitive natures are in closer touch with high and secret things than we imagine; perchance for other reasons with which I became acquainted later.
"It stands thus," he said when I had finished, "or so I think. You, Macumazahn, seek certain women who are dead to learn whether they still live, or are really dead, but so far have failed to find them. Still seeking, you asked the counsel of Zikali, Opener–of–Roads, he who among other titles is also called 'Home of Spirits.' He answered that he could not satisfy your heart because this tree was too tall for him to climb, but that far to the north there lives a certain white witch who has powers greater than his, being able to fly to the top of any tree, and to this white witch he bade you go. Have I the story right thus far?"
I answered that he had.
"Good! Then Zikali went on to choose you companions for your journey, but two, leaving out the guards or servants. I, Umhlopekazi, called Bulalio the Slaughterer, called the Woodpecker also, was one of these, and that little yellow monkey of a man whom I saw with you to–day, called Hansi, was the other. Then you made a mock of Zikali by determining not to visit me, Umhlopekazi, and not to go north to find the great white Queen of whom he had told you, but to return to Natal. Is that so?"
I said it was.
"Then the rain fell and the winds blew and the rivers rose in wrath so that you could not return to Natal, and after all by chance, or by fate, or by the will of Zikali, the wizard of wizards, you drifted here to the kraal of me, Umhlopekazi, and told me this story."
"Just so," I answered.
"Well, White Man, how am I to know that all this is not but a trap for my feet which already seem to feel cords between the toes of both of them? What token do you bring, O Watcher–by–Night? How am I to know that the Opener–of–Roads really sent me this message which has been delivered so strangely by one who wished to travel on another path? The wandering witch–doctor told me that he who came would bear some sign."