"_Nkose_, the time has now come," he said, "to tell you what will sound strange to your ears. I would not tell it before, no, not till the _Amapolise_ had gone. The _Amapolise_ are too fond of asking many questions--foolish questions--asking them, too, as if they thought you were trying to throw sand in their eyes when all the time you are trying to help them. Now is that encouraging to one who would help them?" I readily admitted that it was not. "So now, _Nkose_, if you will come forth with me where we shall not be heard--yes, the nephew of Nyamaki may come, too--for my tale is not for all ears, you shall hear it." We needed no second invitation. As we followed him I could not but call to mind, in deep and thankful contrast, his revelation of two nights ago--made in the same way and on the same spot. "You will have heard, _Amakosi_," he began, "of the tribe called Amazolo, or the People of the Dew, which flourished in Natal before Tshaka's impis drove the tribes of that land into the mountains or the sea. "It was out of this tribe that the principal rainmakers came. So sure and successful were they in making rain that they were always in request. Even Tshaka, the Great, came to hear of them, and was never without some of them at his Great Place, Dukuza, but as to these, well-- he was ever sending for a fresh supply. But he, that Elephant, and Dingane after him, protected the Amazolo, so that they became looked up to and respected among all peoples. "Now Luluzela, the chief of that tribe, was jealous of the first rain-making doctor, Kukuleyo, for it had come to this--that Luluzela was chief of the Amazolo but Kukuleyo was chief of him. So Luluzela waited patiently and watched his chances, for he dare not strike the rain doctor openly because Dingane favoured him, and had anything happened to him would soon have demanded to know the reason why. One day accordingly, knowing some of the mysteries himself, he ordered Kukuleyo to bring rain. The cattle were dying for want of water, and the crops were parched. The people would soon be dying too. But Kukuleyo answered that the moment was not propitious; that anything he did then would anger the _izituta_ instead of propitiating them, and that when the time was right a sacrifice must be offered; not of cattle but of something quite beyond the ordinary. The chief jeered at this, but said the rain doctors might offer any sacrifice they chose." "`Any sacrifice they chose?'" echoed Kukuleyo with emphasis. "Yes. Any sacrifice they chose," repeated the chief, angry and sneering. But if rain did not come within a certain time why then Kukuleyo and all those who helped him should suffer the fate which had always been that of impostors.