I could obtain no
tidings, nor from any with whom I talked on the subject; and as day
after day went by, I began to wish I had not beheld Lalusini again, for
now it seemed as though I were losing her once more.

Then my mind went back--back over my life since I had first beheld
Lalusini and at great peril had managed to keep her for myself; back
over our first meetings in the rock chamber of the Mountain of Death,
what time we had eaten up the Bakoni, the nation who owned the Blue
Cattle, and I remembered her words: "There is a people into whose midst
I will one day return, and there I shall be great indeed, and you
through me." Ha! Was this part of a scheme--of a carefully-matured
plan? It seemed like it. So I resolved to wait and let things shape
their course.

Now the very day on which I had formed this resolve I chanced to be
outside of Nkunkundhlovu alone. Two girls strode by me with bundles on
their heads, and as they did so, one whispered, "This night--induna of
the Great One who site in the north. This night, by the two large
reed-beds at the turn of the river. Mahlula waits."

The speaker passed on, but I, _Nkose_--my blood leaped at the words. At
last I would have speech with Lalusini. At last we would meet face to
face. Yet, even in the midst of my joy came a misgiving. Was it a
snare--was it a trap Tambusa had set for my undoing? for the man who
wanders at night on mysterious business--_au_! he is soon an object of
suspicion, and to be an object of suspicion at that time meant death.

This, however, I was ready to risk, but for all that I resolved to
proceed warily, and he who should attempt treachery upon me might well
wish he never had. So with my great assegai, together with a heavy
knob-stick and a small shield, I wandered up the river shortly before
sundown, and did not return to Nkunkundhlovu for the night.

It had fallen quite dark, though the stars glittered forth in countless
eyes from the blackness above. There was just the faintest murmur of
the wind in the reed-beds, like the sigh of one who waits, and
expecting, is disappointed for the time. The water flowed, evenly and
smooth, lapping a low rock slab on the opposite bank, and now and again
a soft splash and ripple as some crocodile rose or sank. In the air was
a feeling of wizardry and awe; but I had passed through too many strange
things to hold such in fear. Yet it seemed over long that I sat by that
dark water and whisp