are all
sleeping. Yes, there they lie abed, fast asleep, as other people do at
night, with only a few sentries out on guard, and these are yawning and
rubbing their eyes."

"I have heard that there are folk like that in the middle of Africa
where the sun is very hot, Hans," I answered, "which perhaps is why
She-who-commands is going to take us to see them at night. Also these
people, it seems, are worshippers of the moon."

"No, Baas, they are worshippers of the devil and that White Witch is his
wife."

"You had better keep your thoughts to yourself, Hans, for whatever she
is I think that she can read thoughts from far away, as you guessed last
night. Therefore I would not have any if I were you."

"No, Baas, or if I must think, henceforth, it shall be only of gin which
in this place is also far away," he replied, grinning.

Then we came to the rest-house where I found that Robertson had already
eaten his midday meal and like the Amahagger gone to sleep, while
apparently Umslopogaas had done the same; at least I saw nothing of him.
Of this I was glad, since that wondrous Ayesha seemed to draw vitality
out of me and after my long talk with her I felt very tired. So I too
ate and then went to lie down under an old wall in the shade at a little
distance, and to reflect upon the marvellous things that I had heard.

Here be it said at once that I believed nothing of them, or at least
very little indeed. All the involved tale of Ayesha's long life I
dismissed at once as incredible. Clearly she was some beautiful woman
who was more or less mad and suffered from megalomania; probably an
Arab, who had wandered to this place for reasons of her own, and become
the chieftainess of a savage tribe whose traditions she had absorbed and
reproduced as personal experiences, again for reasons of her own.

For the rest, she was now threatened by another tribe and knowing that
we had guns and could fight from what happened on the yesterday, wished
naturally enough for our assistance in the coming battle. As for the
marvellous chief Rezu, or rather for his supernatural attributes and all
the cock-and-bull story about an axe--well, it was humbug like the rest,
and if she believed in it she must be more foolish than I took her
to be--even if she were unhinged on certain points. For the rest, her
information about myself and Umslopogaas doubtless had reached her from
Zikali in some obscure fashion, as she herself acknowledged.

But he