Oh! the death of that woman!" And I put my hand before my eyes.
"Ah! I understand, Macumazahn; you were always fond of her, were you not, although your white pride would not suffer you to admit that black fingers were pulling at your heartstrings?
She was a wonderful witch, was Mameena; and there is this comfort for you--that she pulled at other heartstrings as well.

Masapo's, for instance; Saduko's, for instance; Umbelazi's, for instance, none of whom got any luck from her pulling--yes, and even at mine." Now, as I did not think it worth while to contradict his nonsense so far as I was concerned personally, I went off on this latter point.
"If you show affection as you did towards Mameena to-day, Zikali, I pray my Spirit that you may cherish none for me," I said.
He shook his great head pityingly as he answered: "Did you never love a lamb and kill it afterwards when you were hungry, or when it grew into a ram and butted you, or when it drove away your other sheep, so that they fell into the hands of thieves?
Now, I am very hungry for the fall of the House of Senzangakona, and the lamb, Mameena, having grown big, nearly laid me on my back to-day within the reach of the slayer's spear.

Also, she was hunting my sheep, Saduko, into an evil net whence he could never have escaped.

So, somewhat against my will, I was driven to tell the truth of that lamb and her tricks." "I daresay," I exclaimed; "but, at any rate, she is done with, so what is the use of talking about her ?" "Ah! Macumazahn, she is done with, or so you think, though that is a strange saying for a white man who believes in much that we do not know; but at least her work remains, and it has been a great work.

Consider now.