Indeed, thither one
of the three Makalanga, he who was named Hoba, had gone on to announce
their approach.
They had outspanned amongst ruins, most of them circular in shape, and
Benita, studying them in the bright moonlight, guessed that once these
had been houses. That place now so solitary, hundreds or thousands of
years ago was undoubtedly the home of a great population. Thousands,
rather than hundreds, she thought, since close at hand in the middle
of one of these round houses, grew a mighty baobab tree, that could not
have seen less than ten or fifteen centuries since the seed whence it
sprang pierced the cement floor which was still visible about its giant
bole.
Tamas, the Molimo's son, saw her studying these evidences of antiquity,
and, approaching, saluted her.
"Lady," he said in his own language, which by now she spoke very well,
"lady"--and he waved his hand with a fine gesture--"behold the city of
my people."
"How do you know that it was their city?" she asked.
"I do not know, lady. Stones cannot speak, the spirits are silent, and
we have forgotten. Still, I think so, and our fathers have told us that
but six or eight generations ago many folk lived here, though it was not
they who built these walls. Even fifty years ago there were many, but
now the Matabele have killed them, and we are few; to-morrow you will
see how few.
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