for my country； there； as I felt； one chapter in my eventful life had opened and had closed。 It was sad to part with the place； and also to bid good…bye to my Zulu servant Mazooku。 The poor fellow was moved at this parting； and gave me what probably he valued more than anything he possessed； the kerry that he had carried ever since he was a man — that same heavy； redwood instrument with which more than once I have seen him battering the head of some foe。 It hangs in the hall of this house； but where； I wonder； is Mazooku； who saved my life when I was lost upon the veld？ Living； perhaps； in some kraal； and thinking from time to time of his old master Indanda； of e vague rumours may have reached him。 If so； were I to revisit Africa today； I have not the faintest doubt but that he would reappear。 I should go out of my hotel and see a grey…headed man squatted on the roadside who would arise； lift up his arm； salute me； and say； “Inkoos Indanda； you are here； I am here； e back to serve you。”
I have seen the thing done。 As a young man Sir William Sergeaunt was in South Africa — I forget how or when — and then had a Zulu servant； a Mazook。 He departed and thirty years later returned。 His Mazook appeared from some kraal； of which he was then the head； and was with him during all his stay。 I saw him there。
Or if my Mazook should be dead； as well he may be； and if there is any future for us mortals； and if Zulus and white men go to the same place — as why should they not？ — then I am quite certain that when I reach that shore I shall see a square…faced； dusky figure seated on it； and hear the words； “Inkoos Indanda； here am I； Mazooku； who once was your man； waiting to serve you。” For such is the nature of the poor despised Zulu； at any rate towards him whom he may