e did
so I observed the wizened monkey-like figure creeping from the shadow
of the hut. It crept on all fours, but when it reached the place where
the king sat it rose upon its feet, and throwing the furry covering
from its face, revealed a most extraordinary and weird countenance.
Apparently it was that of a woman of great age so shrunken that in size
it seemed no larger than the face of a year-old child, although made up
of a number of deep and yellow wrinkles. Set in these wrinkles was a
sunken slit, that represented the mouth, beneath which the chin curved
outwards to a point. There was no nose to speak of; indeed, the visage
might have been taken for that of a sun-dried corpse had it not been
for a pair of large black eyes, still full of fire and intelligence,
which gleamed and played under the snow-white eyebrows, and the
projecting parchment-coloured skull, like jewels in a charnel-house. As
for the head itself, it was perfectly bare, and yellow in hue, while
its wrinkled scalp moved and contracted like the hood of a cobra.

The figure to which this fearful countenance belonged, a countenance so
fearful indeed that it caused a shiver of fear to pass through us as we
gazed on it, stood still for a moment. Then suddenly it projected a
skinny claw armed with nails nearly an inch long, and laying it on the
shoulder of Twala the king, began to speak in a thin and piercing
voice--

"Listen, O king! Listen, O warriors! Listen, O mountains and plains and
rivers, home of the Kukuana race! Listen, O skies and sun, O rain and
storm and mist! Listen, O men and women, O youths and maidens, and O ye
babes unborn! Listen, all things that live and must die! Listen, all
dead things that shall live again--again to die! Listen, the spirit of
life is in me and I prophesy. I prophesy! I prophesy!"

The words died away in a faint wail, and dread seemed to seize upon the
hearts of all who heard them, including our own. This old woman was
very terrible.

"_Blood! blood! blood!_ rivers of blood; blood everywhere. I see it, I
smell it, I taste it--it is salt! it runs red upon the ground, it rains
down from the skies.

"_Footsteps! footsteps! footsteps!_ the tread of the white man coming
from afar. It shakes the earth; the earth trembles before her master.

"Blood is good, the red blood is bright; there is no smell like the
smell of new-shed blood. The lions shall lap it and roar, the vultures
shall wash their wings in it and shriek