kosi_," he began, "of the tribe called
Amazolo, or the People of the Dew, which flourished in Natal before
Tshaka's impis drove the tribes of that land into the mountains or the
sea.

"It was out of this tribe that the principal rainmakers came. So sure
and successful were they in making rain that they were always in
request. Even Tshaka, the Great, came to hear of them, and was never
without some of them at his Great Place, Dukuza, but as to these, well--
he was ever sending for a fresh supply. But he, that Elephant, and
Dingane after him, protected the Amazolo, so that they became looked up
to and respected among all peoples.

"Now Luluzela, the chief of that tribe, was jealous of the first
rain-making doctor, Kukuleyo, for it had come to this--that Luluzela was
chief of the Amazolo but Kukuleyo was chief of him. So Luluzela waited
patiently and watched his chances, for he dare not strike the rain
doctor openly because Dingane favoured him, and had anything happened to
him would soon have demanded to know the reason why. One day
accordingly, knowing some of the mysteries himself, he ordered Kukuleyo
to bring rain. The cattle were dying for want of water, and the crops
were parched. The people would soon be dying too. But Kukuleyo
answered that the moment was not propitious; that anything he did then
would anger the _izituta_ instead of propitiating them, and that when
the time was right a sacrifice must be offered; not of cattle but of
something quite beyond the ordinary. The chief jeered at this, but said
the rain doctors might offer any sacrifice they chose."

"`Any sacrifice they chose?'" echoed Kukuleyo with emphasis.

"Yes. Any sacrifice they chose," repeated the chief, angry and
sneering. But if rain did not come within a certain time why then
Kukuleyo and all those who helped him should suffer the fate which had
always been that of impostors.

"Soon after this, clouds began to gather in the heavens, and to spread
and fly like vultures when they scent death afar. In a roaring
thunder-rush they broke, and the land, all parched and cracked and
gaping, ran off the water in floods. There was rejoicing, and yet not,
for it had all come too quickly and violently, washing away and drowning
the cattle which it should have restored to life, and covering the
cornlands with thick layers of unfruitful sand. The people murmured
against Kukuleyo and his rainmakers, the chief waxed fierce, and
threatened.