If the dreams are not sufficiently explicit, we must fall back on the prophet or prophetess. Macdonald’s account tallies with the description of the woman set apart for the service of Mbona, except that he speaks of one living in a village with her family, who may arouse the neighbours with her shrieks in the dead of night. The people assemble to hear the message delivered by the spirits, and then return to bed; ‘or there may be a great meeting in the morning, when the prophetess appears, her head encircled with Indian hemp, and her arms cut as if for new tatus.’ But the _Kubwebweta_ inspiration may come on any one, at any time, or in any place. Thus, one of a party of carriers on a journey suddenly finds himself ‘possessed,’ and his companions listen to his ravings with the greatest reverence. These utterances of possessed people always require some one to interpret them, and ‘an old woman or other skilled person’ is usually found. Macdonald says nothing of this, in the case of the prophetess, but if, as is probably the case, she is more or less of a professional,[12] she will have the necessary skill herself. The messages are not, as a rule, of a very recondite character—either the deceased chief wishes to help his people by warning them of war, or telling them where game may be found; or he feels himself neglected (like old Chipoka), and demands such and such offerings. Namzuruwa, an ancient chief of the district below the Murchison Cataracts, occasionally inspires people in this way. The dead sometimes appear in visible form, as a native told the Rev. D. C. Scott: ‘People sometimes see those who have died and are dead walking outside in the gardens.’[13] I have never had the luck to hear a ghost story at first hand myself—the ‘night fears’ of the small boys whom I found objecting to go out after dark were connected, not with ghosts, but with _wizards_, of whom more presently. There are haunted places in the Bush, where spirits are supposed to be heard, but not seen. M. Junod was told, over and over again, in the Delagoa Bay country, of people who had heard the drumming and singing of the spirits. These haunted spots were the burial-places of the chiefs, and no doubt this is so in other cases. The Anyanja have a curious account of ‘the spirits’ hill,’ where people who go, carrying pots on their heads, have them lifted off by the baboons, and hear a sound, ‘as of people answering.’ They also speak of the ‘spirit-drums’—the small ones sounding _piye! piye!_ and the big ones, _pi! pi!_ as though a dance were going on, and so far as one can gather, these spirits seem to be thought of as in sight like ordinary men and women—not the little εἴδωλα who dwell in the spirit-houses.