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42  One who is great, a certain Old One whose brain is young, a doctor who is called Opener-of-Roads?

I have heard of him, as have my forefathers for generations.

Indeed, and if it pleases you to tell me, Umslopogaas, what might be the names of those forefathers of yours, who have heard of this doctor for generations? They must have been short-lived men and as such I should like to know of them.

That you cannot, replied Umslopogaas shortly, since they are hlonipa (i.e ., not to be spoken) in this land.

Indeed, I said again. I thought that rule applied only to the names of kings, but of course I am but an ignorant white man who may well be mistaken on such matters of your Zulu customs.

Yes, O Macumazahn, you may be mistaken or—you may not. It matters nothing. But what of this message of yours?

It came at the end of a long story, O Bulalio. But since you seek to know, these were the words of it, so nearly as I can remember them.

Then sentence by sentence I repeated to him all that Zikali had said to me when he called me back after bidding me farewell, which doubtless he did because he wished to cut his message more deeply into the tablets of my mind.

Umslopogaas listened to every syllable with a curious intentness, and then asked me to repeat it all again, which I did.

Lousta! Monazi! he said slowly. Well, you heard those names to-day, did you not, White Man? And you heard certain things from the lips of this Monazi who was angry, that give colour to that talk of the Opener-of-Roads. It seems to me, he added, glancing about him and speaking in a low voice, that what I suspected is true and that without doubt I am betrayed.

I do not understand, I replied indifferently. All this talk is dark to me, as is the message of the Opener-of-Roads, or rather its meaning. By whom and about what are you betrayed?

Let that snake sleep. Do not kick it with your foot. Suffice it you to know that my head hangs upon this matter; that I am a rat in a forked stick, and if the stick is pressed on by a heavy hand, then where is the rat?

 Where all rats go, I suppose, that is, unless they are wise