"Never mind how it went," I replied, springing up, for the old wizard's
talk had stirred sad and bitter memories in my heart. "That time is
dead, Zikali."
"Is it, Macumazahn? Now, from the look upon your face I should have said
that it was still very much alive, as things that happened in our youth
have a way of keeping alive. But doubtless I am mistaken, and it is all
as dead as Dingaan, and as Retief, and as the others, your companions.
At least, although you do not believe it, I saved your life on that
red day, for my own purposes, of course, not because one white life was
anything among so many in my count. And now go to rest, Macumazahn,
go to rest, for although your heart has been awakened by memories this
evening, I promise that you shall sleep well to-night," and throwing the
long hair back off his eyes he looked at me keenly, wagging his big head
to and fro, and burst into another of his great laughs.
So I went. But, ah! as I went I wept.
Anyone who knew all that story would understand why. But this is not the
place to tell it, that tale of my first love and of the terrible events
which befell us in the time of Dingaan. Still, as I say, I have written
it down, and perhaps one day it will be read.