So the diviners searched, and she who was chosen among them ate the medicine and sank into the witch sleep here before us all.

Yes, this one," and he pointed to a tall woman with dreamy eyes who was bedizened with bones and snakeskins.
"Now in her sleep she spoke, and we hung upon her words, for we knew that they would be the words of omen.

Sihamba, these were the words, as all can testify: "'Thus say the spirits of your fathers, and thus speaks the Snake of your tribe.

Unless a _White Swallow_ guide your footsteps in the war with the Men of the Mountains you shall perish and your impis shall be scattered, but if a _White Swallow_ flies before your spears than but little of your blood shall be shed, and you shall return with honour and with one whom you seek.

Only the Swallow shall not return with you, for if she set her face southward, then, Sigwe, woe to you and your armies.' "Sihamba, these were the words of the dreamer.