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Updated: June 13, 2025
He stopped short in his tracks and stood immovable, statuesque, listening. "Nyonyoba!" Clear, distinct, the name sounded, floating down from above. "What the devil is that?" was the characteristic exclamation that burst from Laurence and there was something of a quaver in the tone. For his nerves were quite overstrung, and no manifestation of things unknown would have surprised him now.
"Yet Lindela is a sprig of a mighty tree. And I think, Nyonyoba, you yourself are sprung from such a root." "That is no lie, Ruler of the Wise. As a man's whole height is to the length of half his leg, so is the length of my house to that of the kings of the Ba-gcatya, or even to that of Senzangakona himself." "Ha! That may well be. Thou hast a look that way."
"I think not, Nyonyoba," answered the king, struggling to repress a laugh. "Yet perhaps a way may be found out of that difficulty, for in truth thou hast done us good service already. But we will talk further as to this matter in the future. For the present, here waits outside one who will show thee what thou wilt be glad to see."
I have dwelt long among your people, and at the prospect of leaving them my heart is sore." As the last words left his lips, Laurence learned in just one brief flash of a second exactly what he wanted to know. But the look of startled pain in Lindela's face gave way to one of surprise. "Of leaving them?" she echoed. "Has the Great Great One, then, ordered you to begone, Nyonyoba?" "Not yet.
"Then you could dwell among us as one of ourselves." "One might do worse, induna of the king," he returned tranquilly, with a glance at the group of bright-faced, merry, and extremely well-shaped damsels, whom he had been convulsing with laughter. "Yau! Listen to our father," they cried. "He is joking, indeed. Yau! Farewell, Nyonyoba. Fare thee well."
"And why are you sad and heavy of countenance, Nyonyoba? Was the hunt bad the game scarce?" she went on, with a quick searching glance into his eyes. "Not so," he answered. "Those who are with me bring on much ivory for the king's treasury. For yourself, Lindela, I found a bright-plumaged and rare bird, which I will stuff and set up for you."
The king might take long in deciding whether to restore his property or not, and etiquette forbade him to refer to the matter again at any rate for some time to come. That Nondwana might demand too much lobola, or possibly refuse it altogether as coming from him, was a contingency which, strange to say, completely escaped Laurence's scheming mind. "Greeting, Nyonyoba.
But my ears are ever open to what men say, and my father talks much, and talks loud. It may be that I may learn yet more. But, Nyonyoba, delay not in thy first purpose, lest it be too late; and remember, Nondwana has a covetous hand. Fare thee well." Left alone, Laurence thought he might just as well make sure that no spy had been watching them.
"Bayéte!" he exclaimed, lifting his hat courteously. "I behold you, Nyonyoba," replied the king. "Welcome be seated." With a murmur of acknowledgment, Laurence subsided upon the grass mat which had been placed for him by the inceku, who had followed him in.
The wild game which supplied them with food could not have been more free. "Would you rather have been rescued some other way, Nyonyoba?" said the girl one evening, as they were sitting by the camp-fire. "No. There is no other way I should have preferred. See now, Lindela. What if we were to return to your people?
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