“In a translation,” I answered.

“Good, then you will remember the story.  Like to the heel of Achilles, I say, that axe would be the only gate by which death could enter his invulnerable flesh, or rather it alone could make the gate.”

“How did Noot know that?” I asked.

“I cannot say,” she answered with irritation.  “Perchance he did not know it.  Perchance it is all an idle tale, but at least it is true that Rezu believed and believes it, and what a man believes is true for him and will certainly befall.  If it were otherwise, what is the use of faith which in a thousand forms supports our race and holds it from the horrors of the Pit?  Only those who believe nothing inherit what they believe—­nothing, Allan.”

“It may be so,” I replied prosaically, “but what happened about the axe?”

“In the end it was lost, or as some say stolen by a woman whom Rezu had deserted, and therefore he walks the world in fear from day to day.  Nay, ask no more empty questions” (I had opened my mouth to speak) “but hear the end of the tale.  In my trouble concerning Rezu I remembered this wild legend of the axe and since, when lost in a forest every path that may lead to safety should be explored, I sent my wisdom forth to make inquiry concerning it, as I who am great, have the power to do, of certain who are in tune with me throughout this wide land of Africa.  Amongst others, I inquired of that old wizard whom you named Zikali, Opener of Roads, and he gave me an answer that there lived in his land a certain warrior who ruled a tribe called the People of the Axe by right of the Axe, of which axe none, not even he, knew the beginning or the legend.  On the chance, though it was a small one, I bade the wizard send that warrior here with his axe.  Last night he stood before me and I looked upon him and the axe, which at least is ancient and has a story.  Whether it be the same that Rezu bore I do not know who never saw it, yet perchance he who bears it now is prepared to hold it aloft in battle even against Rezu, though he be terrible to see, and then we shall learn.”

“Oh! yes,” I answered, “he is quite prepared, for that is his nature.  Also among this man’s people, the holder of the Axe is thought to be unconquerable.”

“Yet some must have been conquered who held it,” she replied musingly.  “Well, you shall tell me that tale later.  Now we have talked long and you are weary and astonished.  Go, eat and rest yourself.  To-night when the moon rises I will come to where you are, not before, for I have much that must be done, and show you those with whom you must fight against Rezu, and make a plan of battle.”

“But I do not want to fight,” I answered, “who have fought enough and came here to seek wisdom, not bloodshed.”

“First the sacrifice, then the reward,” she answered, “that is if any are left to be rewarded.  Farewell.”

CHAPTER XV