They
are called the Mazitu, a numerous and warlike people of bastard Zulu
blood."
"I have heard of them," I interrupted. "They broke north before the
days of Senzangakona, two hundred years or more ago."
"Well, I could make myself understood among them because they still
talk a corrupt Zulu, as do all the tribes in those parts. At first
they wanted to kill me, but let me go because they thought that I was
mad. Everyone thinks that I am mad, Allan; it is a kind of public
delusion, whereas I think that I am sane and that most other people
are mad."
"A private delusion," I suggested hurriedly, as I did not wish to
discuss Brother John's sanity. "Well, go on about the Mazitu."
"Later they discovered that I had skill in medicine, and their king,
Bausi, came to me to be treated for a great external tumour. I risked
an operation and cured him. It was anxious work, for if he had died I
should have died too, though that would not have troubled me very
much," and he sighed. "Of course, from that moment I was supposed to
be a great magician.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32