d well-bred looking Matabele; a ringed man
withal, and overflowing with good-nature and geniality. And this was
the man who was to give the signal for the massacre of a whole township
full of Europeans on the morrow. Yes, on the morrow.

It was puzzling. The Abantwana Mlimo--or children of the mystery--its
hierarchy to wit, were all, so far as he knew, of the subject race of
Makalaka; yet here was a man obviously of pure Zulu descent, and
carrying himself with all the natural dignity of that kingly race.
Could he be the genuine Qubani? There was absolutely nothing suggestive
of the witch-doctor about him.

"This, too, is Umtwana Mlimo?" said the sorcerer, with a good-humouredly
quizzical look at Father Mathias.

"Of the Great Great One above--yes," answered the latter.

"_Ou_! The Great Great One above! I am a child beside such," rejoined
Qubani. "My father, _u'gwai_ [tobacco] is scarce among us at present,"
reaching out his hand.

Laughing, the priest gave him some. Then, as they chatted further,
Lamont became impatient, though he did not show it. He had got at all
he wanted. He had seen Qubani, and now he wanted to start, and it was
with unmitigated relief that he hailed the arrival of Gudhlusa, who came
to tell them that Zwabeka was no longer sick and hoped they would not
depart without coming to bid him farewell. The chief's quarters were in
a little enclosure apart, right on the opposite side of the kraal.
Leading their horses, which they had already saddled up, they
accompanied Gudhlusa; the _isanusi_ also falling in with them. Zwabeka
was a tall, elderly, rather morose-looking savage; and his tone as he
talked with them was dashed with melancholy. The times were bad, he
said--yes, very bad. Their cattle were all dying of the pestilence, and
such as did not die, the Government had killed. "Where was U'
Dokotela?" [Dr Jameson.]

Now Lamont became wary. It was impossible to suppose that the news of
the Raid had not reached these people--for natives have a way of
obtaining news, at almost whatever distance, rather quicker than
Europeans with all their telegraphic facilities. So he answered that he
was away, but would soon be back.

"He should not have gone," was the chief's rejoinder. "While U'
Dokotela was in the country it was well. He was our father, but now--
whom! Well, the Government is our father instead."

This, uttered with an air of beautiful resignation, was tickling Lamont
t