A whole year had gone by, in which I did, or tried to do, various things that have no connection with this story, when once more I found myself in Zululand—­at Umbezi’s kraal indeed.  Hither I had trekked in fulfilment of a certain bargain, already alluded to, that was concerned with ivory and guns, which I had made with the old fellow, or, rather, with Masapo, his son-in-law, whom he represented in this matter.  Into the exact circumstances of that bargain I do not enter, since at the moment I cannot recall whether I ever obtained the necessary permit to import those guns into Zululand, although now that I am older I earnestly hope that I did so, since it is wrong to sell weapons to natives that may be put to all sorts of unforeseen uses.

At any rate, there I was, sitting alone with the Headman in his hut discussing a dram of “squareface” that I had given to him, for the “trade” was finished to our mutual satisfaction, and Scowl, my body servant, with the hunters, had just carried off the ivory—­a fine lot of tusks—­to my wagons.

“Well, Umbezi,” I said, “and how has it fared with you since we parted a year ago?  Have you seen anything of Saduko, who, you may remember, left you in some wrath?”

“Thanks be to my Spirit, I have seen nothing of that wild man, Macumazahn,” answered Umbezi, shaking his fat old head in a fashion which showed great anxiety.  “Yet I have heard of him, for he sent me a message the other day to tell me that he had not forgotten what he owed me.”

“Did he mean the sticks with which he promised to bray you like a green hide?” I inquired innocently.

“I think so, Macumazahn—­I think so, for certainly he owes me nothing else.  And the worst of it is that, there at Panda’s kraal, he has grown like a pumpkin on a dung heap—­great, great!”

“And therefore is now one who can pay any debt that he owes, Umbezi,” I said, taking a pull at the “squareface” and looking at him over the top of the pannikin.

“Doubtless he can, Macumazahn, and, between you and me, that is the real reason why I—­or rather Masapo—­was so anxious to get those guns.  They were not for hunting, as he told you by the messenger, or for war, but to protect us against Saduko, in case he should attack.  Well, now I hope we shall be able to hold our own.”

“You and Masapo must teach your people to use them first, Umbezi.  But I expect Saduko has forgotten all about both of you now that he is the husband of a princess of the royal blood.  Tell me, how goes it with Mameena?”

“Oh, well, well, Macumazahn.  For is she not the head lady of the Amasomi?  There is nothing wrong with her—­nothing at all, except that as yet she has no child; also that—­,” and he paused.

“That what?” I asked.

“That she hates the very sight of her husband, Masapo, and says that she would rather be married to a baboon—­yes, to a baboon—­than to him, which gives him offence, after he has paid so many cattle for her.  But what of this, Macumazahn?  There is always a grain missing upon the finest head of corn.  Nothing is quite perfect in the world, Macumazahn, and if Mameena does not chance to love her husband—­” and he shrugged his shoulders and drank some “squareface.”