There remained the very curious circumstance of her apparent correspondence with old Zikali who lived far away.  This, however, after all was not inexplicable.  In the course of a great deal of experience I have observed that all the witch-doctor family, to which doubtless she belonged, have strange means of communication.

In most instances these are no doubt physical, carried on by help of messengers, or messages passed from one to the other.  But sometimes it is reasonable to assume what is known as telepathy, as their link of intercourse.  Between two such highly developed experts as Ayesha and Zikali, it might for the sake of argument safely be supposed that it was thus they learned each other’s mind and co-operated in each other’s projects, though perhaps this end was effected by commoner methods.

Whatever its interpretations, the issue of the business seemed to be that I was to be let in for more fighting.  Well, in any case this could not be avoided, since Robertson’s daughter, Inez, had to be saved at all costs, if it could possibly be done, even if we lost our lives in the attempt.  Therefore fight we must, so there was nothing more to be said.  Also without doubt this adventure was particularly interesting and I could only hope that good luck, or Zikali’s Great Medicine, or rather Providence, would see me through it safely.

For the rest the fact that our help was necessary to her in this war-like venture showed me clearly enough that all this wonderful woman’s pretensions to supernatural powers were the sheerest nonsense.  Had they been otherwise she would not have needed our help in her tribal fights, notwithstanding the rubbish she talked about the chief, Rezu, who according to her account of him, must resemble one of the fabulous “trolls,” half-human and half-ghostly evil creatures, of whom I have read in the Norse Sagas, who could only be slain by some particular hero armed with a particular weapon.

Reflecting thus I went to sleep and did not wake until the sun was setting.  Finding that Hans was also sleeping at my feet just like a faithful dog, I woke him up and we went back together to the rest-house, which we reached as the darkness fell with extraordinary swiftness, as it does in those latitudes, especially in a place surrounded by cliffs.

Not finding Robertson in the house, I concluded that he was somewhere outside, possibly making a reconnaissance on his own account, and told Hans to get supper ready for both of us.  While he was doing so, by aid of the Amahagger lamps, Umslopogaas suddenly appeared in the circle of light, and looking about him, said,

“Where is Red-Beard, Macumazahn?”

I answered that I did not know and waited, for I felt sure that he had something to say.

“I think that you had better keep Red-Beard close to you, Macumazahn,” he went on.  “This afternoon, when you had returned from visiting the white doctoress and having eaten, had gone to sleep under the wall yonder, I saw Red-Beard come out of the house carrying a gun and a bag of cartridges.  His eyes rolled wildly and he turned first this way and then that, sniffing at the air, like a buck that scents danger.  Then he began to talk aloud in his own tongue and as I saw that he was speaking with his Spirit, as those do who are mad, I went away and left him.”