“Good-bye, Indaba-zimbi,” I said, “I am going to trek north.”

“Yes, Macumazahn,” he answered, with his head on one side; “and so am I—­I want to see that country.  We will go together.”

“Will we!” I said; “wait till you are asked, you old humbug.”

“You had better ask me, then, Macumazahn, for if you don’t you will never come back alive.  Now that the old chief (my father) is gone to where the storms come from,” and he nodded to the sky, “I feel myself getting into bad habits again.  So last night I just threw up the bones and worked out about your journey, and I can tell you this, that if you don’t take me you will die, and, what is more, you will lose one who is dearer to you than life in a strange fashion.  So just because you gave me that hint a couple of years ago, I made up my mind to come with you.”

“Don’t talk stuff to me,” I said.

“Ah, very well, Macumazahn, very well; but what happened to my own people six months ago, and what did I tell the messengers would happen?  They drove me away, and they are gone.  If you drive me away you will soon be gone too,” and he nodded his white lock at me and smiled.  Now I was not more superstitious than other people, but somehow old Indaba-zimbi impressed me.  Also I knew his extraordinary influence over every class of native, and bethought me that he might be useful in that way.

“All right,” I said:  “I appoint you witch-finder to the expedition without pay.”

“First serve, then ask for wages,” he answered.  “I am glad to see that you have enough imagination not to be altogether a fool, like most white men, Macumazahn.  Yes, yes, it is want of imagination that makes people fools; they won’t believe what they can’t understand.  You can’t understand my prophecies any more than the fool at the kraal could understand that I was his master with the lightning.  Well, it is time to trek, but if I were you, Macumazahn, I should take one waggon, not two.”

“Why?” I said.

“Because you will lose your waggons, and it is better to lose one than two.”

“Oh, nonsense!” I said.

“All right, Macumazahn, live and learn.”  And without another word he walked to the foremost waggon, put his bundle into it, and climbed on to the front seat.

So having bid an affectionate adieu to my white friends, including the old Scotchman who got drunk in honour of the event, and quoted Burns till the tears ran down his face, at length I started, and travelled slowly northwards.  For the first three weeks nothing very particular befell me.  Such Kaffirs as we came in contact with were friendly, and game literally swarmed.  Nobody living in those parts of South Africa nowadays can have the remotest idea of what the veldt was like even thirty years ago.