“I think that he has gone over the mountain lip towards the worshippers of Rezu.  I think that he is mad; sorrow and something else which I do not understand have turned his brain; something that has to do with the Heavens.  I think also that we shall recover him living, if only for a little while, though of this I cannot be sure since it is not given to me to read the future, but only the past, and sometimes the things that happen in the present though they be far away.”

“Will you send to search for him, O Ayesha?” I asked anxiously.

“Nay, it is useless, for he is already distant.  Moreover those who went might be taken by the outposts of Rezu, as perchance has happened to your companion wandering in his madness.  Do you know what he went to seek?”

“More or less,” I answered and translated to her the letter that Robertson had left for me.

“It may be as the man writes,” she commented, “since the mad often see well in their dreams, though these are not sent by a god as he imagines.  The mind in its secret places knows all things, O Allan, although it seems to know little or nothing, and when the breath of vision or the fury of a soul distraught blows away the veils or burns through the gates of distance, then for a while it sees and learns, since, whatever fools may think, often madness is true wisdom.  Now follow me with the little yellow man and the Warrior of the Axe.  Stay, let me look upon that axe.”

I interpreted her wish to Umslopogaas who held it out to her but refused to loose it from his wrist to which it was attached by the leathern thong.

“Does the Black One think that I shall cut him down with his own weapon, I who am so weak and gentle?” she asked, laughing.

“Nay, Ayesha, but it is his law not to part with this Drinker of Lives, which he names ‘Chieftainess and Groan-maker,’ and clings to closer by day and night than a man does to his wife.”

“There he is wise, Allan, since a savage captain may get more wives but never such another axe.  The thing is ancient,” she added musingly after examining its every detail, “and who knows?  It may be that whereof the legend tells which is fated to bring Rezu to the dust.  Now ask this fierce-eyed Slayer whether, armed with his axe he can find courage to face the most terrible of all men and the strongest, one who is a wizard also, of whom it is prophesied that only by such an axe as this can he be made to bite the dust.”

I obeyed.  Umslopogaas laughed grimly and answered,

“Say to the White Witch that there is no man living upon the earth whom I would not face in war, I who have never been conquered in fair fight, though once a chance blow brought me to the doors of death,” and he touched the great hole in his forehead.  “Say to her also that I have no fear of defeat, I from whom doom is, as I think, still far away, though the Opener-of-Roads has told me that among a strange people I shall die in war at last, as I desire to do, who from my boyhood have lived in war.”