she was rambling about the place. Or it may have been pure accident,
since Thomas was too busy to bother about such trifles, while her
mother, who of course knew, kept her own counsel. The truth is that
though he was a heathen witch-doctor, Dorcas liked old Menzi better than
any other native in the district, because she said, quite truly, that he
was a gentleman, however sinful and hard-hearted he might be. Moreover,
with a woman's perception she felt that if only he were a friend, at a
pinch he might be worth all the others put together, while if he were an
enemy, conversely the same applied.

So it came about that in the end there arose a very strange state of
affairs. Menzi hated Thomas and did all he could to thwart him. He liked
Dorcas and did all he could to help her, while the child Tabitha he came
to worship, for some reason he never revealed, which was hidden in the
depths of his secret soul; indeed ere long had she been his own daughter
he could not have loved her more. It was he who amongst many other
things gave her the pretty carved walking-stick of black and white
_umzimbeet_ wood, also the two young blue cranes and the kid that
afterwards were such pets of hers, and with them the beautiful white
feathers of a cock ostrich that had been killed on the veld. In the same
way it was he who sent milk and eggs to Dorcas when she was at her wits'
end for both, which more than once were found mysteriously at the door
of their hut, and not any of his Christian flock, as Thomas fondly
imagined.

Thus things went on for a while.

Meanwhile Thomas found this same Menzi a stumbling-block and a rock
of offence. Whenever he tried to convert man, woman, or child he was
confronted with Menzi or the shadow of Menzi. Thus those with whom he