The next, looking absolutely unearthly in that terrible and ominous light, was a tall figure seated on a white ox shambling rapidly towards us along the open roadway that ran from the southern gate of the market-place.
Of course, I knew that I dreamed, for this figure exactly resembled Brother John.

There was his long, snowy beard.

There in his hand was his butterfly net, with the handle of which he seemed to be prodding the ox.
Only he was wound about with wreaths of flowers as were the great horns of the ox, and on either side of him and before and behind him ran girls, also wreathed with flowers.

It was a vision, nothing else, and I shut my eyes again awaiting the fatal arrow.
"Shoot!" screamed Imbozwi.
"Nay, shoot not!" shouted Babemba.

"_Dogeetah is come!_" A moment's pause, during which I heard arrows falling to the ground; then from all those thousands of throats a roar that shaped itself to the words: "Dogeetah! Dogeetah is come to save the white lords." I must confess that after this my nerve, which is generally pretty good, gave out to such an extent that I think I fainted for a few minutes.
During that faint I seemed to be carrying on a conversation with Mavovo, though whether it ever took place or I only imagined it I am not sure, since I always forgot to ask him.
He said, or I thought he said, to me: "And now, Macumazana, my father, what have you to say?
Does my Snake stand upon its tail or does it not?
Answer, I am listening." To which I replied, or seemed to reply: "Mavovo, my child, certainly it appears as though your Snake _does_ stand upon its tail.