The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-03-16

1 Then why did you give medicine tC 1 what you love, Ibubesi? But have nc | fear, the evil beast has only taken {
 small dose; tomorrow morning it vii
 awake, but it will not know you ol
 anyone. Who is the medicine for, Ibu- l besi? The Lady Zoola? If so, il | may not work on her. for she is | mighty. and cannot be harmed" Fool. Do you think that I would
 play tricks with the Inkosazana?
 NO, you want to marry her, don't you? but it seems to me that she has
 no mind that way. Then 1t is for the man for whom she has a mind? Well hbubesi, you have promised the six cows, and you saved me once from be Ing killed for witchcraft, so will say something. Don't give it to the chief Dario."
 him after all?''
 less and no more, in this quantity and she handed him another powder wrapped in dry leaves; but I have had bad dreams about you, Ibubesi and they were mixed up with the
 Inkosazans and this white man Dario. l dreamed they brought your death upon you-a dreadful death. Ibubesi be wise, set Dario free, and change your mind as to marrying the Inkosa- zana, who is not for you.''
 How can I change my mind, Des- | cendant of Wizards?" broke out Ish- | mael furiously. Can a river penned DSlWeeT TOchS cnanSe US cO-CSe2 Can It run backwards from the sea to the hill? This woman draws me as the sea draws the river; because of her my blood is af1re. I had rather win her and die. than live rich and safe with out her to old age. The more she hates and scorns me. the more I love her" "I understand said the doctress, holding her head till the bladder in her hair bobbed about like a float at which a fish is pulling. "I understand | have naOTpla liIxo hof men and women too-when & bad spirit enters into them because of some crime they have committed. The In kosazanna. or those who guard her. have sent you this bad spirit and Ibubesi. you must run the road upon which it is appointed that you shall travel: for joy or sorrow you must run that road. But when we meet in the world of ghosts. which I think will be soon, do not blame me. do not say that l did not warn you. Now it is all right about those cows. is it not although I daresay the Zulus will milk them and not I. for tonight I seem to smell Zulus in the air. and she lifted her broad nose and shifted like a hound '1 wish you could have left the Inkosazana alone. and that Dario. too, for he is a part of her: in my dreams they seemed to be one. But you won't. you/ will walk your own path; so goodnight. Ibubesi. The dog will wake again in the morning. but
 
 of course I understand that the cows will be young ones that have not had more than two calves. Mix the pow der in milk. or water. or anything: it is without taste or colour. Goodnight. 1hubesi,' and without waiting for an answer the old wretch crept out of the hut.
 When she was gone Ishmael cursed her loud. then drank some more rum which he seemed to need. The place was very lonely. a ] the sight of his dog. lying to all appearance dead at his side. oppressed him. He patted its paw and it fell down flabbily. The brute was as dead as anything could be. It occurred to him that before night came again he might look like might have left the earth in company of all the deeds that he had done there on. He had imagination enough to know his sins. and they were an evil host to face. Old Dove and his wife. for lnstance-ho1y people who believed in God and Vengeance. and had never done any wrong. only striven for years and years to benefit others: it would not thot be pleasant to meet them. Rachel had said that she saw them standing behind him, and he felt as though they were there at that moment. Look. one of them crossed between him and the lamp-there was the mark of tho kerry on his head-and the woman followed; he could see her blue lips as she bent down to look at the dog. It was un- bearable. He would go and talk to Rachel. and ask her if she had made up her mind. Mo- for if he broke in on her thus at night. he was sure that she would kill either herself or him | with that spear she had taken from the de ad Zulu. reddened with his own blood. He would keep faith with her and wait till the morrow. He would l send for one of his wives. No. the thought of, those women made him sick. He would go round the fortifica- tionS and beat any Sentries whom h found asleep. or receive the reports of the spies. To stop in that hut in tn company of dog which seemed to be dead. and of imaginations that no rum could drown. was impossible.
 
 Once more the morning came. and ] Rachel sat in the walled yard await l ing the dreadful hour of her trial. for l it was the day and time that IShmael had appointed for her answer Until 1 now Rachel had cherished hopes that l something might happen: that the peo- | pie of MafoOti might intervene to save her and Richard: that the Zu1us might | appear, even that Ishmael might re- l lent and let them go. But Mani had l been out that morning and brought | back tidings which dispelled these l hopes. She had ventured to sound ! some of the leading men, and said that, | like all the people. they were very sul- 1 len and alarmed. but declared. as she | had expected. that they dare do noth- l ing, for Ibubesi would kill them. and l if they escaped him the Zulus would ! kill them because the Inkosazana was | found in their possession. Of the Zulus | themselves. scouts who had been out | for miles. reported that they had seen | no sign. It was clear also that Ishmael 1 was as determined as ever. for he had sent her message by Mani that he 1 would wait upon her as he had prom sed,. and bring the white man with | him.
 Then what should she say and what should she do? Rachel could think of no plan; she could only sit still and pray while the shadow of that awful hour creDt ever nearer.
 It had come; she heard voices with put the wall. among them IshmaePs. Her heart stopped. then bounded like 3 live thing in her breast. He was someone to catch that log and tie it up. for it was bewitched.