Sitting there in the darkness, waiting for dawn, he was thinking, and thinking hard. There had been warning rumours here and there that the natives were not so content under the white man's rule as was supposed-- nor that they deemed themselves anything like so roundly squashed and beaten less than three years earlier as they should have. Such rumours, however, were not acceptable to the "powers that were," and their originators discouraged; and bearing this in mind, what was seemingly the most obvious course--to lose no time in warning the proper authorities, to wit--was the very last thing that Lamont had determined to follow. If he started warning people, nobody would believe him. They would simply laugh and say he had got the funks, meanwhile it would be sure to leak out to the natives that such warning had been given. They would put two and two together, and, connecting it in some way with his presence at their kraal that night, would entirely change their plan, probably with disastrous result to the white population. On the other hand, if the massacre at Gandela were averted, it would show, as they had agreed, that the time for rising was not yet ripe--which would afford him time to turn his warning to proper account, a thing he could not possibly do in one day. That the massacre at Gandela should be averted he was fully determined, and that he himself should be the means of averting it--he alone, working to his own hand. CHAPTER TEN. WHAT LAMONT DID. "That is a very great _isanusi_ in there, _umfane_," said Lamont, as he splashed his head and face in a large calabash bowl. His travelling companion the while was engaged in his devotions inside the hut. "A very great _isanusi_?" echoed the youth, who was Gudhlusa's son, the same who had attended to their wants the night before. "Ha! Is he as great as Qubani?" "Yes." "_Ou_!" Lamont knew perfectly well that the other didn't believe him, but he was talking with an object. "Can he foretell things?" went on the youth. The while two or three more had sauntered up and were listening interestedly. Lamont was on the point of answering in the affirmative, when it occurred to him that to do so would be to make a fatal slip in view of what the next day was to bring forth. So he replied-- "He cannot foretell things. He can do them." "_Hau_!" burst forth from the group, and hands were brought to mouths and heads turned aside, expressive of indescribable incredulity. "An _isanusi_ who cannot foretell things! Now, _Nkose_, what sort of _isanusi_ is that?" "Nevertheless his _muti_ is great--greater than that of Qubani--in its way." "In its way--ah! ah! in its way," they hummed. "Talking of Qubani," replied Lamont. "Now that _is_ an _isanusi_. I would fain see one like that. But--I suppose he does not live here, son of Gudhlusa." "But he is here, _Nkose_." "That is good news, and I have a gift for him. When we have eaten, I will talk with him. When we have eaten, I say."