“Baba!” (that is the Zulu for father), said Saduko, “this white Inkoosi, for, as you know well enough, he is a chief by nature, a man of a great heart and doubtless of high blood [this, I believe, is true, for I have been told that my ancestors were more or less distinguished, although, if this is so, their talents did not lie in the direction of money-making], has offered to take me upon a shooting expedition and to give me a good gun with two mouths in payment of my services.  But I told him I could not engage in any fresh venture without your leave, and—­he is come to see whether you will grant it, my father.”

“Indeed,” answered the dwarf, nodding his great head.  “This clever white man has taken the trouble of a long walk in the sun to come here to ask me whether he may be allowed the privilege of presenting you with a weapon of great value in return for a service that any man of your years in Zululand would love to give for nothing in such company?

“Son Saduko, because my eye-holes are hollow, do you think it your part to try to fill them up with dust?  Nay, the white man has come because he desires to see him who is named Opener-of-Roads, of whom he heard a great deal when he was but a lad, and to judge whether in truth he has wisdom, or is but a common cheat.  And you have come to learn whether or no your friendship with him will be fortunate; whether or no he will aid you in a certain enterprise that you have in your mind.”

“True, O Zikali,” I said.  “That is so far as I am concerned.”

But Saduko answered nothing.

“Well,” went on the dwarf, “since I am in the mood I will try to answer both your questions, for I should be a poor Nyanga” [that is doctor] “if I did not when you have travelled so far to ask them.  Moreover, O Macumazana, be happy, for I seek no fee who, having made such fortune as I need long ago, before your father was born across the Black Water, Macumazahn, no longer work for a reward—­unless it be from the hand of one of the House of Senzangakona—­and therefore, as you may guess, work but seldom.”

Then he clapped his hands, and a servant appeared from somewhere behind the hut, one of those fierce-looking men who had stopped us at the gate.  He saluted the dwarf and stood before him in silence and with bowed head.

“Make two fires,” said Zikali, “and give me my medicine.”

The man fetched wood, which he built into two little piles in front of Zikali.  These piles he fired with a brand brought from behind the hut.  Then he handed his master a catskin bag.

“Withdraw,” said Zikali, “and return no more till I summon you, for I am about to prophesy.  If, however, I should seem to die, bury me to-morrow in the place you know of and give this white man a safe-conduct from my kraal.”

The man saluted again and went without a word.

When he had gone the dwarf drew from the bag a bundle of twisted roots, also some pebbles, from which he selected two, one white and the other black.