Still I observed that for all his confidence, Hans himself was the first to depart and with considerable speed.  So we went back to our camp without more conversation, since the Zulus were scared and I confess that myself I could not understand the matter, though no doubt it admitted of some quite simple explanation.

However that might be, this Kor was a queer place with its legends, its sullen Amahagger and its mysterious queen, to whom at times, in spite of my inner conviction to the contrary, I was still inclined to attribute powers beyond those that are common even among very beautiful and able women.

This reflection reminded me that she had promised us a further exhibition of those powers and within an hour or two.  Remembering this I began to regret that I had ever asked for any such manifestations, for who knew what these might or might not involve?

So much did I regret it that I determined, unless Ayesha sent for us, as she had said she would do, I would conveniently forget the appointment.  Luckily Umslopogaas seemed to be of the same way of thinking; at any rate he went off to eat his evening meal without alluding to it at all.  So I made up my mind that I would not bring the matter to his notice and having ascertained that Inez was still asleep, I followed his example and dined myself, though without any particular appetite.

As I finished the sun was setting in a perfectly clear sky, so as there was no sign of any messenger, I thought that I would go to bed early, leaving orders that I was not to be disturbed.  But on this point my luck was lacking, for just as I had taken off my coat, Hans arrived and said that old Billali was without and had come to take me somewhere.

Well, there was nothing to do but to put it on again.  Before I had finished this operation Billali himself arrived with undignified and unusual haste.  I asked him what was the matter, and he answered inconsequently that the Black One, the slayer of Rezu, was at the door “with his axe.”

“That generally accompanies him,” I replied.  Then, remembering the cause of Billali’s alarm, I explained to him that he must not take too much notice of a few hasty words spoken by an essentially gentle-natured person whose nerve had given way beneath provocation and bodily effort.  The old fellow bowed in assent and stroked his beard, but I noticed that while Umslopogaas was near, he clung to me like a shadow.  Perhaps he thought that nervous attacks might be recurrent, like those of fever.

Outside the house I found Umslopogaas leaning on his axe and looking at the sky in which the last red rays of evening lingered.

“The sun has set, Macumazahn,” he said, “and it is time to visit this white queen as she bade us, and to learn whether she can indeed lead us ‘down below’ where the dead are said to dwell.”

So he had not forgotten, which was disconcerting.  To cover up my own doubts I asked him with affected confidence and cheerfulness whether he was not afraid to risk this journey “down below,” that is, to the Realm of Death.