"Then we might be all murdered here and no notice taken," exclaimed
Thomas.
"Yes, Teacher. Many people have been murdered here: my father was
murdered, and I dare say I shall be."
"Who by?"
Kosa made no answer, but his vacant eyes rested for a little while on
Menzi.
"Good God! what a country," said Thomas to himself, looking at Dorcas
who was frightened. Then he turned to meet Menzi, who was advancing
towards them.
Casting a glance of contempt at Kosa, of whom he took no further notice,
Menzi saluted the new-comers by lifting his hand above his head. Then
with the utmost politeness he drew a snuff-box fashioned from the tip of
a buffalo-horn out of a slit in the lobe of his left ear, extracted the
wooden stopper and offered Thomas some snuff.
"Thank you, but I do not take that nastiness," said Thomas.
Menzi sighed as though in disappointment, and having helped himself to
a little, re-stoppered the horn and thrust it back into the lobe of his
ear. Next he said, speaking in a gentle and refined voice:
"Greeting, Teacher, who, the messengers tell us, are called Tombool in
your own language and in ours _Inkunzi_. A good name, for in truth you
look like a bull. I am glad to see that you are made much more robust
than was the last Teacher, and therefore will live longer in this place
than he did.
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