“And if the king refuses, what then, Zikali?”

“Then, Macumazahn, the Queen’s man will declare war on the Zulus; already he gathers his soldiers for the war.”

“Will Cetewayo refuse, Zikali?”

“I do not know.  His mind swings this way and that, like a pole balanced on a rock.  The ends of the pole are weighted with much counsel, and it hangs so even that if a grasshopper lit on one end or the other, it would turn the scale.”

“And do you wish me to be that grasshopper, Zikali?”

“Who else?  That is why I brought you to Zululand.”

“So you wish me to counsel Cetewayo to lie down in the bed that the English have made for him.  If he seeks my advice I will do so gladly, for so I am sure he will sleep well.”

“Why do you mock me, Macumazahn?  I wish you to counsel Cetewayo to throw back his word into the teeth of the Queen’s man and to fight the English.”

“And thus bring destruction on the Zulus and death to thousands of them and of my own people, and in return gain nothing but remorse.  Do you think me mad or wicked, or both, that I should do this thing?”

“Nay, Macumazahn, you would gain much.  I could show you where the king’s cattle are hidden.  The English will never find them, and after the war you might take as many as you chose.  But it would be useless, for knowing you well, I am sure that you would only hand them over to the British Government, as once you handed over the cattle of Bangu, being fashioned that way by the Great-Great, Macumazahn.”

“Perhaps I might, but then what should I gain, Zikali?”

“This:  you would so bring things about that, being broken by war, the Zulu power could never again menace the white men, which would be a great and good deed, Macumazahn.”

“Mayhap—­I am not sure.  But of this I am sure, that I will not thrust my face into your nest of wasps, that the English hornets may steal the honey when they are disturbed.  I leave such matters to the Queen and those who rule under her.  So have done with such talk, for you do but waste your breath, Zikali.”

“It is as I guessed it would be,” he answered, shaking his great head.  “You are too honest to prosper in the world, Macumazahn.  Well, I must find other means to bring the House of Cetewayo to the end that he deserves, who has been an evil and a cruel king.”

All this he said, showing neither surprise nor resentment, which convinced me of what I had suspected throughout, that never for an instant did he believe that I should fall in with his suggestions and try to influence the Zulus to declare war.  No, this talk of his was but a blind; there was some deeper scheme at work in his cunning old brain which he was hiding from me.  Why exactly had he beguiled me to Zululand?  I could not divine, and to ask him would be worse than useless, but then and there I made up my mind that I would get away from the Black Kloof early on the following morning, if that were possible.