When we came down Umslopogaas was still sharpening Inkosi-kaas, although she already had an edge like a razor.

Standing in front of him, and regarding him with a mixture of fear and fascination, was Alphonse.

And certainly he did seem an alarming object -- sitting there, Zulu fashion, on his haunches, a wild look upon his intensely savage and yet intellectual face, sharpening, sharpening, sharpening at the murderous-looking axe.
'Oh, the monster, the horrible man!' said the little French cook, lifting his hands in amazement.

'See but the hole in his head; the skin beats on it up and down like a baby's! Who would nurse such a baby ?' and he burst out laughing at the idea.
For a moment Umslopogaas looked up from his sharpening, and a sort of evil light played in his dark eyes.
'What does the little "buffalo-heifer" [so named by Umslopogaas, on account of his mustachios and feminine characteristics] say?
Let him be careful, or I will cut his horns.

Beware, little man monkey, beware!' Unfortunately Alphonse, who was getting over his fear of him, went on laughing at 'ce drole d'un monsieur noir'.