"Never mind how it went," I replied, springing up, for the old wizard's
talk had stirred sad and bitter memories in my heart. "That time is
dead, Zikali."

"Is it, Macumazahn? Now, from the look upon your face I should have
said that it was still very much alive, as things that happened in our
youth have a way of keeping alive. But doubtless I am mistaken, and it
is all as dead as Dingaan, and as Retief, and as the others, your
companions. At least, although you do not believe it, I saved your life
on that red day, for my own purposes, of course, not because one white
life was anything among so many in my count. And now go to rest,
Macumazahn, go to rest, for although your heart has been awakened by
memories this evening, I promise that you shall sleep well to-night,"
and throwing the long hair back off his eyes he looked at me keenly,
wagging his big head to and fro, and burst into another of his great
laughs.

So I went. But, ah! as I went I wept.

Anyone who knew all that story would understand why. But this is not
the place to tell it, that tale of my first love and of the terrible
events which befell us in the time of Dingaan. Still, as I say, I have
written it down, and perhaps one day it will be read.



CHAPTER III