Presently he found the white stone, which was now red-hot--at any rate it glowed as though it were--and after examining it for a moment finally popped it into his mouth! Then he hunted in the other fire for the black stone, which he treated in a similar fashion.

The next thing I remember was that the fires, which had died away almost to nothing, were burning very brightly again, I suppose because someone had put fuel on them, and Zikali was speaking.
"Come here, O Macumazana and O Son of Matiwane," he said, "and I will repeat to you what your spirits have been telling me." We drew near into the light of the fires, which for some reason or other was extremely vivid.

Then he spat the white stone from his mouth into his big hand, and I saw that now it was covered with lines and patches like a bird's egg.
"You cannot read the signs ?" he said, holding it towards me; and when I shook my head went on: "Well, I can, as you white men read a book.

All your history is written here, Macumazahn; but there is no need to tell you that, since you know it, as I do well enough, having learned it in other days, the days of Dingaan, Macumazahn.

All your future, also, a very strange future," and he scanned the stone with interest.