"It would
pull her back again and she would become a great trouble to me,
for then that Spirit of hers would not suffer me to sleep, with
its continual startings in search of what it had lost, and its
returnings empty-handed. Well, have no fear, for at the worst
the bowl can be broken and the blood poured upon the earth, as I
have broken finer bowls than this before; had I all the bits of
them they would make a heap so high, Macumazahn!" and he held out
his hand on a level with his head, a gesture that made my back
creep. "I will tell her this and it may keep her quiet for a
while. Of poison you need not be afraid, since unlike mine, her
Spirit hates it. Poison is not one of its weapons as it is with
mine. But of spells, beware, for her Spirit has some which are
very powerful."
Now I jumped up, filled with indignation, saying--
"I do not believe in Nombe's spells, and in any case how am I to
guard against them?"
"If you do not believe there is no need to guard, and if you do
believe, then it is for you to find out how to guard, Macumazahn.
Oh! I could tell you the story of a white teacher who did not
believe and would not guard--but never mind, never mind.
Good-bye, Macumazahn, I will speak with Nombe. Ask her for a
lock of her hair to wear upon your heart after she has enchanted
it. The charm is good against spells. O-ho--Oho-o! What fools
we are, white and black together! That is what Cetewayo is
thinking to-day.
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