I spoke to her light-headedly.
"O woman," I said, "is that a man who laughed over me ?" "Not altogether, Macumazahn," she answered in a pleasant voice.

"That was Zikali, the Mighty Magician, the Counsellor of Kings, the Opener of Roads; he whose birth our grandfathers do not remember; he whose breath causes the trees to be torn out by the roots; he whom Dingaan fears and obeys." "Did he cause the Boers to be killed ?" I asked.
"Mayhap," she answered.

"Who am I that I should know of such matters ?" "Are you the woman who was sick whom I was sent to visit ?" I asked again.
"Yes, Macumazahn, I was sick, but now I am well and you are sick, for so things go round.

Drink this," and she handed me a gourd of milk.
"How are you named ?" I inquired as I took it.
"Naya is my name," she replied, "and I am your jailer.

Don't think that you can escape me, though, Macumazahn, for there are other jailers without who carry spears.