Now, while all this was going on, I had made Hans and Sammy open one of the boxes and extract therefrom a good-sized mirror in a wooden frame with a support at the back so that it could be stood anywhere.  Fortunately it was unbroken; indeed, our packing had been so careful that none of the looking-glasses or other fragile things were injured.  To this mirror I gave a hasty polish, then set it upright upon the table.

Old Babemba came along rather suspiciously, his one eye rolling over us and everything that belonged to us.  When he was quite close it fell upon the mirror.  He stopped, he stared, he retreated, then drawn by his overmastering curiosity, came on again and again stood still.

“What is the matter?” called his second in command from the ranks.

“The matter is,” he answered, “that here is great magic.  Here I see myself walking towards myself.  There can be no mistake, for one eye is gone in my other self.”

“Advance, O Babemba,” cried the doctor who had tried to drink all the coffee, “and see what happens.  Keep your spear ready, and if your witch-self attempts to harm you, kill it.”

Thus encouraged, Babemba lifted his spear and dropped it again in a great hurry.

“That won’t do, fool of a doctor,” he shouted back.  “My other self lifts a spear also, and what is more all of you who should be behind are in front of me.  The holy drink has made me drunk; I am bewitched.  Save me!”

Now I saw that the joke had gone too far, for the soldiers were beginning to string their bows in confusion.  Luckily at this moment, the sun at length came out almost opposite to us.

“O Babemba,” I said in a solemn voice, “it is true that this magic shield, which we have brought as a gift to you, gives you another self.  Henceforth your labours will be halved, and your pleasures doubled, for when you look into this shield you will be not one but two.  Also it has other properties—­see,” and lifting the mirror I used it as a heliograph, flashing the reflected sunlight into the eyes of the long half-circle of men in front of us.  My word! didn’t they run.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed old Babemba, “and can I learn to do that also, white lord?”

“Certainly,” I answered, “come and try.  Now, hold it so while I say the spell,” and I muttered some hocus-pocus, then directed it towards certain of the Mazitu who were gathering again.  “There!  Look!  Look!  You have hit them in the eye.  You are a master of magic.  They run, they run!” and run they did indeed.  “Is there anyone yonder whom you dislike?”

“Yes, plenty,” answered Babemba with emphasis, “especially that witch-doctor who drank nearly all the holy drink.”

“Very well; by-and-by I will show you how you can burn a hole in him with this magic.  No, not now, not now.  For a while this mocker of the sun is dead.  Look,” and dipping the glass beneath the table I produced it back first.  “You cannot see anything, can you?”