"I never heard of a sacrifice pleasing to Umlimo, or any other Great Great One, that was offered through a dog's maw, Shiminya," cried the other, with a great jeer; for too much association had somewhat sapped Nanzicele's respect for the redoubted magician. The latter, conscious of having made a slip, went on. "Nompiza scorned thee when thou wouldst take her to wife, Nanzicele. Thou art large and strong, but thou hast no cattle, son of Fondosi, therefore thou hast no wives. Here is one who comes straight to thee. She is white, it is true, yet take her." Of all these atrocious suggestions Nidia, standing there, was of course blissfully ignorant. The sun was declining, and she was inwardly growing somewhat impatient. Would they never have finished their _indaba_? Was it, perhaps, her look of absolute unconsciousness, her very helplessness, that appealed to some spark of manliness within the heart of that rough savage, as he replied? "No, no. I want not such. They are _tagati_, these white women. The Amakiwa are the wisest people in the world, yet they treat such women as these as though they were gods. I have seen it--yes, I, myself. Look, too, at this woman. She is not afraid. There is a power behind her, and I will not offer her violence." Then the abominable wizard deemed it time to throw his trump card. "Where is she going? To Sikumbutana," he said, lapsing into a professional oracularism. "To whom is she going? To Jonemi. Nanzicele was a chief in the _Amapolise_, but he is not now. Why not? Ask Jonemi. This woman knows Jonemi--belongs to him, it may be; perhaps his sister--perhaps his wife. Jonemi was in our power, but he escaped from us. This woman is in our power; shall we let her go?" This recapitulation of his wrongs and appeal to his vengeful feelings was not entirely without effect upon Nanzicele. He hated John Ames, whom he regarded, and rightly, as the main instrument of his own degradation. He had only spared him, in the massacre of Inglefield's hut, for a worse fate, intending to convey him to Shiminya's _muti_ kraal, and put him to death in the most atrocious form that the fiendish brain of the wizard could devise. Then they had all become drunk, and John Ames had escaped, and for all the trace he had left behind him might just as well have disappeared into empty air. And now, here, ready to his hand, was a scheme of vengeance upon the man he hated. Turning his head, he looked intently at Nidia. But the aspect of her, standing there calm and fearless--fearless because entirely ignorant of what had happened at Sikumbutana, and still regarding this man, rough as he had shown himself, as her protector by reason of his Police uniform-- appealed to the superstitious nature of the savage. He felt that it was even as he had said. There was a power behind her.