"
The argument seems remarkably absurd. Yet it must be common, for now
that I come to think of it, no gipsy will tell a "true fortune" unless
her hand is crossed with silver.
"I say, Quatermain," said Stephen idly, "since our friend Mavovo seems
to know so much, ask him what has become of Brother John, as Hans
suggested. Tell me what he says afterwards, for I want to see
something."
So I went through the little gate in the wall in a natural kind of
way, as though I had seen nothing, and appeared to be struck by the
sight of the little fires.
"Well, Mavovo," I said, "are you doing doctor's work? I thought that
it had brought you into enough trouble in Zululand."
"That is so, /Baba/," replied Mavovo, who had a habit of calling me
"father," though he was older than I. "It cost me my chieftainship and
my cattle and my two wives and my son. It made of me a wanderer who is
glad to accompany a certain Macumazana to strange lands where many
things may befall me, yes," he added with meaning, "even the last of
all things.
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