At the foot of this writing, which he would not suffer to be altered, Jan printed his name in big letters; then he went out to seek the messenger, whom he found talking to Sihamba, and having given him the paper bade him begone swiftly to wherever it was he came from. The man, who was a strong red-coloured savage, marked with a white scar across the left cheek, and naked except for his moocha and the kaross rolled up upon his shoulders, took the letter, hid it in his bundle, and went. Jan also turned to go, but I who had followed him and was watching him, although he did not know it, saw him hesitate and stop. “Sihamba,” he said, “why were you talking to that man?” “Because it is my business to know of things, Father of Swallow, and I wished to learn whence he came.” “Did you tell you then?” “Not altogether, for someone whom he fears has laid a weight upon his tongue, but I learned that he lives at a kraal far away in the mountains, and that this kraal is owned by a white man who keeps wives and cattle at it, although he is not there himself just now. The rest I hope to hear when Swart Piet sends him back again, for I have given the man a medicine to cure his child, who is sick, and he will be grateful to me.” “How do you know that Swart Piet sent the man?” asked Jan. She laughed and said: “Surely that was easy to guess; it is my business to twine little threads into a rope.” Again he turned to go and again came back to speak to her. “Sihamba,” he said, “I have seen you talking to that man before. I remember the scar upon his face.” “The scar upon his face you may remember,” she answered, “but you have not seen us talking together, for until this hour we never met.” “I can swear it,” he said angrily. “I remember the straw hat, the shape of the man’s bundle, the line where the shadow fell upon his foot, and the tic-bird that came and sat near you. I remember it all.” “Surely, Father of Swallow,” Sihamba replied, eyeing him oddly, “you talk of what you have just seen.” “No, no,” he said, “I saw it years ago.” “Where?” she asked, staring at him. He started and uttered some quick words. “I know now,” he said. “I saw it in your eyes the other day.” “Yes,” she answered quietly, “I think that, if anywhere, you saw it in my eyes, since the coming of this messenger is the first of all the great things that are to happen to the Swallow and to those who live in her nest. I do not know the things; still, it may happen that another who has Vision may see them in the glass of my eyes.” CHAPTER XII. WHAT THE COW SHOWED ZINTI Twelve days passed, and one morning when I went out to feed the chickens, I saw the red Kaffir with the scar on his face seated beyond the _stoep_ taking snuff. “What is it?” I asked. “A letter,” he answered, giving me a paper. I took it into the house, where the others were gathered for breakfast, and as before Ralph read it. It was to this effect: