As we drew near Zikali opened his mouth and uttered a
loud and terrifying laugh. How well I remembered that laugh
which I had first heard at Dingaan's kraal as a boy after the
murder of Retief and the Boers.*
[*--See the book called _Marie,_ by H. Rider Haggard.]
"I begin to think that you are right and that this old gentleman
must be the devil," said Anscombe to Heda, then lapsed into
silence.
As I was determined not to speak first I took the opportunity to
fill my pipe. Zikali, who was watching me, although all the
while he seemed to be staring at the setting sun, made a sign.
One of the servants dashed away and immediately returned, bearing
a flaming brand which he proffered to me as a pipe-lighter. Then he
departed again to bring three carved stools of red wood which he
placed for us. I looked at mine and knew it again by the
carvings. It was the same on which I had sat when first I met
Zikali. At length he spoke in his deep, slow voice.
"Many years have gone by, Macumazahn, since you made use of that
stool. They are cut in notches upon the leg you hold and you may
count them if you will."
I examined the leg. There were the notches, twenty-two or three
of them. On the other legs were more notches too numerous to
reckon.
"Do not look at those, Macumazahn, for they have nothing to do
with you. They tell the years since the first of the House of
Senzangacona sat upon that stool, since Chaka sat upon it, since
Dingaan and others sat upon it, one Mameena among them.
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