Chapter Thirteen.

Chapter Thirteen.The Igazipuza.“Bolted! Every man Jack of them!”Thus John Dawes, as he and Gerard stood looking dubiously at each other in the faint sickly light of dawn. A thick mist lay heavy on the earth, so thick that, as the former said, a man could hardly see the end of the nose upon his face. The place occupied by the Swazi herdsmen and drivers knew them no more, nor was there any trace of those worthies in or around the encampment. Moreover, their traps had eke disappeared. The thing John Dawes feared had come to pass, and, shaking his head, he could only repeat blankly—“Bolted! Every man Jack of them!”Gerard could not but feel relieved in his innermost heart that this defection had not befallen during his period of watching. He and Dawes had gone the round together when the latter had relieved him. Then the Swazis were rolled up, snug and snoring, in their blankets. An hour before dawn a thick mist had rolled up, covering everything, and then it was that their faithless retainers had seen their opportunity, and had slipped away under cover of its folds.“Overhaul them? Not we?” said Dawes, in answer to Gerard’s suggestion. “This mist may last for hours, and even if it didn’t they’ll have made the most of their leg-bail by now, depend upon it. Besides, it would be courting plunder to leave the waggons here in charge of ‘boys’ only, as we should have to do if we started to chevy thoseschelms. No. We must get on as best we can without them, but it’ll mean a goodish handful for you and me. We shall have to drive and herd the stock ourselves.”“What if we have to?” said Gerard, heartily. “It won’t hurt us, and, for the matter of that, I dare say I could undertake the whole lot of it myself, leaving you as free as before.”“You can’t, Ridgeley. Sheep and cattle can’t be driven in one lump. I wish we hadn’t brought along that confounded small stock; taken something else instead, only we couldn’t get it. Now we’d better make coffee, and be all ready to inspan as soon as the mist lifts.”They were seated at the fire, and had just filled up steaming pannikins of the strong black brew, when the sound of deep voices was heard, and immediately there appeared a group of figures out of the mist. That these were their defaulting retainers was an idea which the first glance served to dispel. There were more than twice the number; besides, the tall fine frames, the haughty poise of the head, the large war-shields, bespoke them Zulus.They halted a brief moment as they came in sight of the fire, then strode up to half a dozen paces of the two white men, and halting again, eyed the latter in silence for a moment, and one of them said—“Saku bona.”Dawes, as he returned the greeting, with one quick keen glance scrutinised the group, and noted two things. The man they had met two days before, Vunawayo, was not in it, and though all were fully armed, they had not, in accordance with Zulu etiquette, deposited their weapons a few paces in the background. They, for their part, he fancied, looked meaningly at the two guns which lay beside himself and Gerard, and ready to the hand of each. They were, as we have said, tall, fine men, and most of them ringed. But though they carried the large war-shield instead of the little ornamental shield usually employed on pacific journeyings, and were fully armed with assegai and knobkerrie, and here and there a battle-axe, their persons were bedizened by no martial gear—being, in fact, devoid of little other adornment than themútya. These men, he decided, were either the whole or part of an “eating-up” expedition (Note 1), or they were members of the dreaded Igazipuza.The Zulus had squatted down on their haunches in crescent formation. There were fifteen of them. Dawes handed them the large horn snuff-box he always carried. It was passed round, and for a few minutes they were all taking pinch after pinch in silent contentment. Then one of them said—“What have you got to sell,Umlúngu?”“Very little,” was the answer. “We are at the end of our trip, not at the beginning, and have got rid of nearly everything.”“Among the Swazi dogs? Why did you not come through the Zulu country?”“We heard there had been too many traders there before us,” replied Dawes, unveraciously. “And in the part we did touch we could do nothing. The people were not inclined to trade.”“Are these all your people?” went on the Zulu, with a glance at the four Natal natives, who, Sintoba excepted, had been gazing at them with a curiosity strongly dashed with awe. Sintoba, however, had given them the “Saku bona” as on terms of perfect equality, and they had returned it. “They are few to take care of so much property,” went on the spokesman.“They are,” said Dawes. “We had some Swazis—six of them—but they ran away in the night.”“Whau! They will not run far,” said the Zulu, and a meaning grin played upon the faces of his countrymen.“Do you know Sobuza?” asked Gerard, handing them a huge pannikin of strong black coffee, well sweetened, of which, in accordance with custom, he took a preliminary sip.They looked at each other, and then followed a discussion as to whether it was Sobuza the son of Panhla, or that other Sobuza who was once in command of the king’s bodyguard, or Sobuza the son of somebody else.Gerard added that he didn’t know who Sobuza’s father was, but his father’s son, at any rate, was a chief in the Udhloko regiment.“Ehé!” cried the warriors in concert. “That is Sobuza the son of Panhla. He has his kraal by the Intaba’nkulu. Do you know him,Umlúngu?”“I did, once. But, next time you see him, ask him when he is inclined for another swim in the Umgeni river.” And then, as well as he could, he described the incident of the chief’s misadventure, and how, indeed, he was able to come to his aid twice in the same day. The Zulus listened attentively, and Gerard hoped that his object in telling the story was gained, viz. to establish some sort of a claim upon their friendship in case they should belong to the dreaded freebooting clan.“Do you belong to the chief Ingonyama?” said Dawes, when he had done.“Ingonyama?”“Yes.”“Ingonyama’s kraal is out Hlobane way. Are you going to visit him?” said the Zulu, in true native fashion avoiding a direct answer, and further, replying to one question by another.“We know not. Perhaps, if we have time,” answered Dawes, rising. “And now,amadoda(men), it is becoming light. We must get upon our road again.”With magical suddenness the sun had burst forth. The sky overhead was a vivid blue, which had almost a shade of the most lovely green in it, in direct contrast to the white and solid masses of fleecy vapour which was giving way before the arrowy rays. The curtain of mist, rolling back from the slopes of the hills, was disclosing a carpet of sheeny dewdrops, sparkling, glittering in the sun like a sea of diamonds. Dawes was about to give orders to inspan, when there burst forth from around the spur of the hill a most horrible and startling tumult.A wave of dark figures surged into view, shouting, whistling, leaping. On they poured like a pack of wolves. But some distance ahead of them—fleeing for their lives, their eyes starting from their heads in deadly fear—coming straight for the camp, ran five or six men, natives, hard pressed by the surging mass in their rear. Then arose from a multitude of fierce throats, drawn out into a half chant, half roar, but deafening in its thunderous volume, a most hideous and appalling shout—“Igazi—pu—za!”Assegais hurled from the onrushing mass whistled through the air. One of the fugitives fell. In a moment a howling, raving crowd was around him, upon him, their tiger-like roars drowning the shrieks of the wretched man being literally hacked to pieces. Another staggered into camp, and fell almost at Gerard’s feet, covered with spear-wounds. And in the fleeing refugees frenzied with terror, they recognised the treacherous and defaulting Swazis.“Save me, save me, father!” yelled Kazimbi, rolling like a log at Dawes’s feet.“Keep cool, Ridgeley,” muttered the latter. “Don’t fire a shot, on your life.”Anything more ferocious and appalling than the aspect of these savages as they poured like a torrent upon the camp it would be hard to conceive. There seemed to be hundreds of them. Naked save for theirmútyas, each had a red disc painted on his breast, and another between the eyes. They leaped high in the air as they ran, brandishing their assegais and great shields, and, roaring in long-drawn, bloodthirsty cadence, their terrible slogan. It seemed as though no living thing there, whether man or beast, would survive the blind fury of their overwhelming rush.And indeed it was a fearful moment for all concerned as they swarmed around the waggons. Gerard, well-nigh carried off his feet by the surging rush, doubted not but that his last moment had come, as the sea of spear-blades, some red and reeking with blood, flashed in front of his eyes, as the deafening vibration of the hideous shout stunned his ears. Still, his presence of mind never deserted him; still through it all he remembered Dawes’s emphatic injunction to keep cool and offer no violence.It was hard all the same, as he felt himself hustled here and there by the fierce horde. However, he was of strong and athletic build, and with a well-affected, good-humoured bluffness, he was able to push back the foremost aggressors without having recourse to any weapon.“What have you got to sell,abelúngu?” shouted the wild crowd, with a roar of boisterous laughter. “We come to trade—we come to trade.”“The way to trade isn’t to raise all this abominable din,” replied Dawes, coolly. “Sit down, can’t you, and talk quietly.”A roar of derision greeted this.“We are the Igazipuza,’mlúngu,” they shouted. “Ha—Come forth, you dogs!”This to the Swazi fugitives who had slunk under one of the waggons, in the desperate hope that these terrible and dreaded warriors might take their departure as suddenly as they had appeared.“Come forth, dogs—come forth!” they vociferated again. And daring no longer hesitate, the wretched Swazis crept trembling from their would-be hiding-place.“Ha, you long-legged, wolf-faced jackal,” cried a savage-looking villain, seizing Kazimbi by the throat, and placing the point of his assegai against his breast. “What is your name?”“Kazimbi,Inkose!” faltered the trembling Swazi.“Kazimbi?Hau! not muchironabout you,” jeered his tormentor in a great mocking voice. “Whau! I did not do that,” he laughed, as some of the crowd behind wantonly or accidentally jogged his elbow, causing the blade of the assegai to pierce the chest of Kazimbi, eliciting from that unfortunate a startled shriek, for the wound was a deep one, and the blood spurted forth in a warm jet. The bystanders yelled with laughter. The jest was excellent.“I did not do it, but now I will.” And maddened by the sight of blood, the ferocious savage drove the broad spear blade up to the hilt into the chest of the miserable Swazi, and continuing the blow by a swift, powerful, down-stroke, ripped open the whole body, which fell to the earth a horrible weltering mass. Raising their terrific war-cry, these human wolves clustered around it, stabbing, ripping, hacking, till soon the only distinguishable remains of the wretched Kazimbi was his bleeding heart, plucked out and reared aloft upon an assegai point.This shocking and appalling scene the two white spectators of it were powerless to prevent. Themselves hemmed in by the fierce crowd, now infuriate in its growing blood-lust, their own lives hung upon no more than a hair. Another of the wretched Swazis was set upon and barbarously slaughtered, and then Gerard could stand it no longer. Scattering all considerations of prudence to the winds, he threw himself in front of the three remaining victims, and drawing his revolver—as being more readily handled than the gun which he carried—presented it full at the mass of infuriated savages. And Dawes, himself hemmed in, seeing this, held his breath for the life of his young companion.“Stand back!” thundered Gerard. “Stand back, you cowardly dogs!”The voice, the act, the deadly weapon pointing right in their faces, the resolute countenance and flashing eyes, had an extraordinary effect. That one man should thus dare to beard them, the dreaded Igazipuza, in their might, to stand before their reddened spears in the thick of their blood fury, to wrest the prey from the raging lion in the act of devouring it, to throw himself between their wrath and a few miserable dogs of Swazis, struck these ferocious savages as little short of miraculous. To the wild fierce hubbub there succeeded a dead silence. The forest of bristling spear-blades tossing aloft, dropped motionless. Heads were bent forward and a sea of rolling eyeballs glared upon the intrepid form of the young Englishman. Then from every chest went up a quick, deep-toned gasp of wonder—of amazement.“Who is your chief?” cried Dawes, who had taken advantage of their momentary confusion to edge his way to the side of his young companion. “Is this a horde without a leader? We are not at war with the Zulu people that animpishould ‘eat up’ our camp and kill our servants. Where is your chief?”“Your servants have not been harmed,Umlúngu,” said a voice in the crowd. “There they are, your Amakafula. These were not your servants, only some miserable Swazi dogs, who had run away from you, as you yourselves just now told us. Have they not been well and rightly served?”The crowd had parted, making way for the speaker, in whom our friends now recognised the man who had been talking with them prior to the startling interruption. He with the remainder of the group now came forward.“Well, three of them have been killed, let the rest now be spared,” said Dawes, who was not inclined to dispute the logic of the Zulu’s dictum, and whose matter-of-fact nature was in the last degree averse to running any quixotic risk on behalf of the worthless fellows who had treated him so scurvily. “And now, if the Igazipuza wish to trade, let them sit down quietly and say so, if not, let them go their way in peace, and we will proceed upon ours.”This was pretty bold, considering how absolutely at the mercy of these turbulent barbarians was the speaker and his mere handful of companions. But he thoroughly knew his ground. A bold and resolute attitude is the only one which commands their respect, as indeed Gerard’s intrepid and apparently foolhardy act served to show. And in pursuance of this idea he would not offer them even the smallest gift, at any rate until they became civil, lest they should construe the act into a concession to fear.“We want to trade,abelúngu, but not here,” shouted several voices. “Not here. At the kraal of our father, Ingonyama.”“Yes, yes. To the kraal of our father,” repeated the crowd.“You have not enough people to drive all that stock,” cried a voice. “We will help you.”“We will—we will,” echoed the crowd, with a shout of boisterous laughter. And tearing away the thin fence of bushes which enclosed them, the savages began to drive out the cattle and sheep, pricking them with their assegais, and roaring with laughter at the pain and terror of the poor beasts.“Wait one moment!” cried Dawes. “We have hardly anything to trade, and are returning home. It will be very inconvenient to us to go out of our way. Take a couple of oxen and half a dozen goats as a present to your chief, Ingonyama, and tell him we hope to visit him at some future time. Now we will keep on our way.”“No—no!” roared the crowd. “No—no! You cannot pass so near the kraal of our chief without paying him a visit. So come with us,abelúngu. We will help drive your cattle.”The tone though effusively good-natured was not to be mistaken. The best policy was to affect to believe the good nature genuine, and that these playful barbarians really were consumed with anxiety to show hospitality to the two white traders, instead of practically taking them prisoners. And that such they were admitted of no shadow of a doubt. In a second the minds of both had grasped the situation. If they refused to proceed to Ingonyama’s kraal, the Igazipuza would assuredly plunder them of every hoof, for they were already driving off the stock—plunder them even it might be of the trek-oxen and the two horses. They might even take it into their heads to massacre them, but this was improbable. So making a virtue of necessity, and giving his companion a hint to do the like, Dawes replied that since they and their chief were so anxious to have them as guests, why, they should have their wish. Then he gave orders to inspan.Shouting, singing, and indulging in horseplay the savages crowded round, watching the process. Then as the waggons rolled slowly off, they would clamber into the huge vehicles, or hang on behind in clusters, roaring with laughter as some fellow tumbled off, or a whole bunch of them got jerked into the air by an unexpected bump. Indeed, it became difficult to drive the oxen at all. Gerard and Dawes were riding their ponies, surrounded by the group of ringed men who had first visited their camp. These, though evidently men of authority, seemed little inclined to exert that attribute, and made no attempt to check the rowdiness and horseplay of the younger warriors. Among these latter the poor Swazis were having a bad time; being jeered and threatened, and in momentary fear of sharing the fate of their countrymen whose mangled corpses lay behind, another feast for the vultures. The Natal natives were treated with more respect—especially Sintoba, who, marching beside his span, seemed perfectly indifferent to all the brag and swagger of the armed crowd. Indeed, once or twice, when they pressed him too close, he menaced them with the butt end of his long whip-handle.Thus in the midst of their most unwelcome escort did our two friends proceed upon their enforced visit across the border of northern Zululand.Note 1. The process of carrying out sentence pronounced against anybody for witchcraft or other offence, and which may consist of the slaughter of the individual and the confiscation of his cattle and wives, or the massacre of himself and his whole family, or even of his whole kraal.

“Bolted! Every man Jack of them!”

Thus John Dawes, as he and Gerard stood looking dubiously at each other in the faint sickly light of dawn. A thick mist lay heavy on the earth, so thick that, as the former said, a man could hardly see the end of the nose upon his face. The place occupied by the Swazi herdsmen and drivers knew them no more, nor was there any trace of those worthies in or around the encampment. Moreover, their traps had eke disappeared. The thing John Dawes feared had come to pass, and, shaking his head, he could only repeat blankly—

“Bolted! Every man Jack of them!”

Gerard could not but feel relieved in his innermost heart that this defection had not befallen during his period of watching. He and Dawes had gone the round together when the latter had relieved him. Then the Swazis were rolled up, snug and snoring, in their blankets. An hour before dawn a thick mist had rolled up, covering everything, and then it was that their faithless retainers had seen their opportunity, and had slipped away under cover of its folds.

“Overhaul them? Not we?” said Dawes, in answer to Gerard’s suggestion. “This mist may last for hours, and even if it didn’t they’ll have made the most of their leg-bail by now, depend upon it. Besides, it would be courting plunder to leave the waggons here in charge of ‘boys’ only, as we should have to do if we started to chevy thoseschelms. No. We must get on as best we can without them, but it’ll mean a goodish handful for you and me. We shall have to drive and herd the stock ourselves.”

“What if we have to?” said Gerard, heartily. “It won’t hurt us, and, for the matter of that, I dare say I could undertake the whole lot of it myself, leaving you as free as before.”

“You can’t, Ridgeley. Sheep and cattle can’t be driven in one lump. I wish we hadn’t brought along that confounded small stock; taken something else instead, only we couldn’t get it. Now we’d better make coffee, and be all ready to inspan as soon as the mist lifts.”

They were seated at the fire, and had just filled up steaming pannikins of the strong black brew, when the sound of deep voices was heard, and immediately there appeared a group of figures out of the mist. That these were their defaulting retainers was an idea which the first glance served to dispel. There were more than twice the number; besides, the tall fine frames, the haughty poise of the head, the large war-shields, bespoke them Zulus.

They halted a brief moment as they came in sight of the fire, then strode up to half a dozen paces of the two white men, and halting again, eyed the latter in silence for a moment, and one of them said—

“Saku bona.”

Dawes, as he returned the greeting, with one quick keen glance scrutinised the group, and noted two things. The man they had met two days before, Vunawayo, was not in it, and though all were fully armed, they had not, in accordance with Zulu etiquette, deposited their weapons a few paces in the background. They, for their part, he fancied, looked meaningly at the two guns which lay beside himself and Gerard, and ready to the hand of each. They were, as we have said, tall, fine men, and most of them ringed. But though they carried the large war-shield instead of the little ornamental shield usually employed on pacific journeyings, and were fully armed with assegai and knobkerrie, and here and there a battle-axe, their persons were bedizened by no martial gear—being, in fact, devoid of little other adornment than themútya. These men, he decided, were either the whole or part of an “eating-up” expedition (Note 1), or they were members of the dreaded Igazipuza.

The Zulus had squatted down on their haunches in crescent formation. There were fifteen of them. Dawes handed them the large horn snuff-box he always carried. It was passed round, and for a few minutes they were all taking pinch after pinch in silent contentment. Then one of them said—

“What have you got to sell,Umlúngu?”

“Very little,” was the answer. “We are at the end of our trip, not at the beginning, and have got rid of nearly everything.”

“Among the Swazi dogs? Why did you not come through the Zulu country?”

“We heard there had been too many traders there before us,” replied Dawes, unveraciously. “And in the part we did touch we could do nothing. The people were not inclined to trade.”

“Are these all your people?” went on the Zulu, with a glance at the four Natal natives, who, Sintoba excepted, had been gazing at them with a curiosity strongly dashed with awe. Sintoba, however, had given them the “Saku bona” as on terms of perfect equality, and they had returned it. “They are few to take care of so much property,” went on the spokesman.

“They are,” said Dawes. “We had some Swazis—six of them—but they ran away in the night.”

“Whau! They will not run far,” said the Zulu, and a meaning grin played upon the faces of his countrymen.

“Do you know Sobuza?” asked Gerard, handing them a huge pannikin of strong black coffee, well sweetened, of which, in accordance with custom, he took a preliminary sip.

They looked at each other, and then followed a discussion as to whether it was Sobuza the son of Panhla, or that other Sobuza who was once in command of the king’s bodyguard, or Sobuza the son of somebody else.

Gerard added that he didn’t know who Sobuza’s father was, but his father’s son, at any rate, was a chief in the Udhloko regiment.

“Ehé!” cried the warriors in concert. “That is Sobuza the son of Panhla. He has his kraal by the Intaba’nkulu. Do you know him,Umlúngu?”

“I did, once. But, next time you see him, ask him when he is inclined for another swim in the Umgeni river.” And then, as well as he could, he described the incident of the chief’s misadventure, and how, indeed, he was able to come to his aid twice in the same day. The Zulus listened attentively, and Gerard hoped that his object in telling the story was gained, viz. to establish some sort of a claim upon their friendship in case they should belong to the dreaded freebooting clan.

“Do you belong to the chief Ingonyama?” said Dawes, when he had done.

“Ingonyama?”

“Yes.”

“Ingonyama’s kraal is out Hlobane way. Are you going to visit him?” said the Zulu, in true native fashion avoiding a direct answer, and further, replying to one question by another.

“We know not. Perhaps, if we have time,” answered Dawes, rising. “And now,amadoda(men), it is becoming light. We must get upon our road again.”

With magical suddenness the sun had burst forth. The sky overhead was a vivid blue, which had almost a shade of the most lovely green in it, in direct contrast to the white and solid masses of fleecy vapour which was giving way before the arrowy rays. The curtain of mist, rolling back from the slopes of the hills, was disclosing a carpet of sheeny dewdrops, sparkling, glittering in the sun like a sea of diamonds. Dawes was about to give orders to inspan, when there burst forth from around the spur of the hill a most horrible and startling tumult.

A wave of dark figures surged into view, shouting, whistling, leaping. On they poured like a pack of wolves. But some distance ahead of them—fleeing for their lives, their eyes starting from their heads in deadly fear—coming straight for the camp, ran five or six men, natives, hard pressed by the surging mass in their rear. Then arose from a multitude of fierce throats, drawn out into a half chant, half roar, but deafening in its thunderous volume, a most hideous and appalling shout—

“Igazi—pu—za!”

Assegais hurled from the onrushing mass whistled through the air. One of the fugitives fell. In a moment a howling, raving crowd was around him, upon him, their tiger-like roars drowning the shrieks of the wretched man being literally hacked to pieces. Another staggered into camp, and fell almost at Gerard’s feet, covered with spear-wounds. And in the fleeing refugees frenzied with terror, they recognised the treacherous and defaulting Swazis.

“Save me, save me, father!” yelled Kazimbi, rolling like a log at Dawes’s feet.

“Keep cool, Ridgeley,” muttered the latter. “Don’t fire a shot, on your life.”

Anything more ferocious and appalling than the aspect of these savages as they poured like a torrent upon the camp it would be hard to conceive. There seemed to be hundreds of them. Naked save for theirmútyas, each had a red disc painted on his breast, and another between the eyes. They leaped high in the air as they ran, brandishing their assegais and great shields, and, roaring in long-drawn, bloodthirsty cadence, their terrible slogan. It seemed as though no living thing there, whether man or beast, would survive the blind fury of their overwhelming rush.

And indeed it was a fearful moment for all concerned as they swarmed around the waggons. Gerard, well-nigh carried off his feet by the surging rush, doubted not but that his last moment had come, as the sea of spear-blades, some red and reeking with blood, flashed in front of his eyes, as the deafening vibration of the hideous shout stunned his ears. Still, his presence of mind never deserted him; still through it all he remembered Dawes’s emphatic injunction to keep cool and offer no violence.

It was hard all the same, as he felt himself hustled here and there by the fierce horde. However, he was of strong and athletic build, and with a well-affected, good-humoured bluffness, he was able to push back the foremost aggressors without having recourse to any weapon.

“What have you got to sell,abelúngu?” shouted the wild crowd, with a roar of boisterous laughter. “We come to trade—we come to trade.”

“The way to trade isn’t to raise all this abominable din,” replied Dawes, coolly. “Sit down, can’t you, and talk quietly.”

A roar of derision greeted this.

“We are the Igazipuza,’mlúngu,” they shouted. “Ha—Come forth, you dogs!”

This to the Swazi fugitives who had slunk under one of the waggons, in the desperate hope that these terrible and dreaded warriors might take their departure as suddenly as they had appeared.

“Come forth, dogs—come forth!” they vociferated again. And daring no longer hesitate, the wretched Swazis crept trembling from their would-be hiding-place.

“Ha, you long-legged, wolf-faced jackal,” cried a savage-looking villain, seizing Kazimbi by the throat, and placing the point of his assegai against his breast. “What is your name?”

“Kazimbi,Inkose!” faltered the trembling Swazi.

“Kazimbi?Hau! not muchironabout you,” jeered his tormentor in a great mocking voice. “Whau! I did not do that,” he laughed, as some of the crowd behind wantonly or accidentally jogged his elbow, causing the blade of the assegai to pierce the chest of Kazimbi, eliciting from that unfortunate a startled shriek, for the wound was a deep one, and the blood spurted forth in a warm jet. The bystanders yelled with laughter. The jest was excellent.

“I did not do it, but now I will.” And maddened by the sight of blood, the ferocious savage drove the broad spear blade up to the hilt into the chest of the miserable Swazi, and continuing the blow by a swift, powerful, down-stroke, ripped open the whole body, which fell to the earth a horrible weltering mass. Raising their terrific war-cry, these human wolves clustered around it, stabbing, ripping, hacking, till soon the only distinguishable remains of the wretched Kazimbi was his bleeding heart, plucked out and reared aloft upon an assegai point.

This shocking and appalling scene the two white spectators of it were powerless to prevent. Themselves hemmed in by the fierce crowd, now infuriate in its growing blood-lust, their own lives hung upon no more than a hair. Another of the wretched Swazis was set upon and barbarously slaughtered, and then Gerard could stand it no longer. Scattering all considerations of prudence to the winds, he threw himself in front of the three remaining victims, and drawing his revolver—as being more readily handled than the gun which he carried—presented it full at the mass of infuriated savages. And Dawes, himself hemmed in, seeing this, held his breath for the life of his young companion.

“Stand back!” thundered Gerard. “Stand back, you cowardly dogs!”

The voice, the act, the deadly weapon pointing right in their faces, the resolute countenance and flashing eyes, had an extraordinary effect. That one man should thus dare to beard them, the dreaded Igazipuza, in their might, to stand before their reddened spears in the thick of their blood fury, to wrest the prey from the raging lion in the act of devouring it, to throw himself between their wrath and a few miserable dogs of Swazis, struck these ferocious savages as little short of miraculous. To the wild fierce hubbub there succeeded a dead silence. The forest of bristling spear-blades tossing aloft, dropped motionless. Heads were bent forward and a sea of rolling eyeballs glared upon the intrepid form of the young Englishman. Then from every chest went up a quick, deep-toned gasp of wonder—of amazement.

“Who is your chief?” cried Dawes, who had taken advantage of their momentary confusion to edge his way to the side of his young companion. “Is this a horde without a leader? We are not at war with the Zulu people that animpishould ‘eat up’ our camp and kill our servants. Where is your chief?”

“Your servants have not been harmed,Umlúngu,” said a voice in the crowd. “There they are, your Amakafula. These were not your servants, only some miserable Swazi dogs, who had run away from you, as you yourselves just now told us. Have they not been well and rightly served?”

The crowd had parted, making way for the speaker, in whom our friends now recognised the man who had been talking with them prior to the startling interruption. He with the remainder of the group now came forward.

“Well, three of them have been killed, let the rest now be spared,” said Dawes, who was not inclined to dispute the logic of the Zulu’s dictum, and whose matter-of-fact nature was in the last degree averse to running any quixotic risk on behalf of the worthless fellows who had treated him so scurvily. “And now, if the Igazipuza wish to trade, let them sit down quietly and say so, if not, let them go their way in peace, and we will proceed upon ours.”

This was pretty bold, considering how absolutely at the mercy of these turbulent barbarians was the speaker and his mere handful of companions. But he thoroughly knew his ground. A bold and resolute attitude is the only one which commands their respect, as indeed Gerard’s intrepid and apparently foolhardy act served to show. And in pursuance of this idea he would not offer them even the smallest gift, at any rate until they became civil, lest they should construe the act into a concession to fear.

“We want to trade,abelúngu, but not here,” shouted several voices. “Not here. At the kraal of our father, Ingonyama.”

“Yes, yes. To the kraal of our father,” repeated the crowd.

“You have not enough people to drive all that stock,” cried a voice. “We will help you.”

“We will—we will,” echoed the crowd, with a shout of boisterous laughter. And tearing away the thin fence of bushes which enclosed them, the savages began to drive out the cattle and sheep, pricking them with their assegais, and roaring with laughter at the pain and terror of the poor beasts.

“Wait one moment!” cried Dawes. “We have hardly anything to trade, and are returning home. It will be very inconvenient to us to go out of our way. Take a couple of oxen and half a dozen goats as a present to your chief, Ingonyama, and tell him we hope to visit him at some future time. Now we will keep on our way.”

“No—no!” roared the crowd. “No—no! You cannot pass so near the kraal of our chief without paying him a visit. So come with us,abelúngu. We will help drive your cattle.”

The tone though effusively good-natured was not to be mistaken. The best policy was to affect to believe the good nature genuine, and that these playful barbarians really were consumed with anxiety to show hospitality to the two white traders, instead of practically taking them prisoners. And that such they were admitted of no shadow of a doubt. In a second the minds of both had grasped the situation. If they refused to proceed to Ingonyama’s kraal, the Igazipuza would assuredly plunder them of every hoof, for they were already driving off the stock—plunder them even it might be of the trek-oxen and the two horses. They might even take it into their heads to massacre them, but this was improbable. So making a virtue of necessity, and giving his companion a hint to do the like, Dawes replied that since they and their chief were so anxious to have them as guests, why, they should have their wish. Then he gave orders to inspan.

Shouting, singing, and indulging in horseplay the savages crowded round, watching the process. Then as the waggons rolled slowly off, they would clamber into the huge vehicles, or hang on behind in clusters, roaring with laughter as some fellow tumbled off, or a whole bunch of them got jerked into the air by an unexpected bump. Indeed, it became difficult to drive the oxen at all. Gerard and Dawes were riding their ponies, surrounded by the group of ringed men who had first visited their camp. These, though evidently men of authority, seemed little inclined to exert that attribute, and made no attempt to check the rowdiness and horseplay of the younger warriors. Among these latter the poor Swazis were having a bad time; being jeered and threatened, and in momentary fear of sharing the fate of their countrymen whose mangled corpses lay behind, another feast for the vultures. The Natal natives were treated with more respect—especially Sintoba, who, marching beside his span, seemed perfectly indifferent to all the brag and swagger of the armed crowd. Indeed, once or twice, when they pressed him too close, he menaced them with the butt end of his long whip-handle.

Thus in the midst of their most unwelcome escort did our two friends proceed upon their enforced visit across the border of northern Zululand.

Note 1. The process of carrying out sentence pronounced against anybody for witchcraft or other offence, and which may consist of the slaughter of the individual and the confiscation of his cattle and wives, or the massacre of himself and his whole family, or even of his whole kraal.

Chapter Fourteen.“The Lion’s Den.”The principal kraal of the Igazipuza lay in a great natural crater, surrounded by cliff-crowned heights. Like all the Zulu kraals it wore an excessively neat and symmetrical appearance in its perfect circular formation; the dome-shaped huts, which could not have numbered less than five hundred, standing between the double ring fences, which latter rose as high as a man’s chin, and being constructed of the thorniest of mimosa boughs tightly interlaced, presented a formidablechevaux-de-friseto whosoever would cross or break through them. It was a large and imposing kraal, as became the residence of an influential chief, the head quarters of a powerful clan.The situation of the place had evidently been chosen with no insignificant eye to strategy. Shut in by its amphitheatre of heights, the bushy hollow wherein it lay was accessible from one side alone, and that could only be approached by an exposed and toilsome climb up a long and rugged slope. A sentinel posted on the heights around could descry the advance of an enemy for miles, and all the fighting force could concentrate their efforts on the one accessible point. Of course a couple of field-pieces planted on the nearest cliff could have banged the place to rubbish in half an hour, but to foemen armed as themselves, or even with rifles, this stronghold of the Igazipuza was a very formidable fastness indeed, and not far short of impregnable.All these points did Dawes and Gerard take in as, upon the afternoon of the third day following their compulsory enterprise, the waggons creaked and groaned behind their panting, toiling spans, up the rugged acclivity aforesaid, whither their live stock, urged on by its very willing if self-constituted drivers, had already preceded them in a now vanishing cloud of dust. They noticed, too, on gaining the ridge whence they could look down upon the great kraal lying a mile or so before and beneath them, that the valley was one of considerable area, and though bush-clad was green and grassy. There was yet one thing more they noticed. Rising abruptly from the bush, about a mile and a half in the rear of the kraal, was a conical tooth-shaped rock, the more noticeable because it seemed to have no business to be there at all. It was a kind of excrescence on the natural formation of the ground, which was there smooth. Yet this strange pyramid, with its precipitous cliff-face, thus shot up abruptly to a height of nearly a hundred feet.Their cogitations on this and other matters were interrupted suddenly, and in a manner which was somewhat alarming. From the tree-clad hillsides arose the same wild roaring shout which had preceded the massacre of the unfortunate Swazi runaways, and they beheld charging down upon them from either side a band of armed men, shaking their shields and assegais by way of adding to the strength and hideosity of the uproar.“All this dancing and bellowing is getting just a trifle thin—eh, Ridgeley?” said Dawes, with a touch of ill-humour, as the savages came surging round the waggons, and amusing themselves by yelling at, and now and again goading, the already panting and terrified oxen. The Swazis, who had not dared leave the sides of their white protectors, turned grey with fear. This was too much like what had preceded the slaughter of their companions.But the Zulus in the present instance confined their aggression to mere boisterous noise. And then the kraal in front seemed suddenly in a turmoil. Heads could be seen peering over the palisades, and another body of warriors came swarming from its gates. These advanced, marching in regular orderly column, to meet the wild uproarious crowd which was swaying and surging around the slowly progressing waggons; and as they approached they began to sing. The burden of their song might be translated in this wise—“Ho! the Lion’s teeth are sharp,They bite, they tear;And the land is white with bonesRound the Lion’s lair.Lo! the prey comes home of itselfTo the Lion’s den,Where the Lion’s cubs grow fatOn the blood of men.Há, há, há!Grow fat on the blood of men!”The repetition of this ferocious refrain was, under the circumstances, anything but reassuring; the fell imagery of it only too alarmingly plain. Were they not indeed walking of themselves right into the “lion’s den”—the lair of this savage and freebooting chieftain whose very name meant lion in the Zulu language! However, there was nothing for it but to preserve a cool and unconcerned demeanour, as the singing warriors drew near; and thus marshalled, amid an indescribable din, the shrill chatter of women and children, the clamourous yelping of a hundred curs, mingling with the rattle of shields and assegai hafts, the rumble of tramping feet and the deep-toned, measured war-chant of the warriors, our two friends made their entrance into the Igazipuza kraal, after a fashion which, as Gerard remarked, was a cross between a procession to the scaffold and a Caesar’s triumph.Dawes had wanted to leave the waggons outside, but this his escort—or captors—would not hear of. They must all enter, had urged the latter. To act otherwise would be to make the reception invalid, maimed, unlucky. They could go out again afterwards if they liked, and Dawes for his part sincerely wished they might.Large as it was, the open space in the centre of the kraal, was nearly filled up with the two waggons and spans of oxen, besides their cattle and small stock which had been driven into it. A bush had now fallen upon the swarming throng, for Dawes had intimated his desire immediately to see the chief; and heads were bent forward in eager curiosity, and voices were hushed to whispers as, escorted by a group of ringed men, he and Gerard, leaving their waggons in charge of Sintoba and the other driver, but still inspanned, were ushered upon that errand.The chief’s hut was no larger than the others, nor was there anything to distinguish it from them, except perhaps an open space in front of it. It faced, too, a gate in the inner kraal, and through this our two friends were marshalled accordingly.The chief, Ingonyama, was a large, stoutly built Zulu of about fifty. He had a shrewd, intelligent face, and his shaven head, surmounted by the inevitableisicocoor ring, rendered his high broad forehead almost commandingly lofty. His jaw was square and resolute, but there was a shifty look in his somewhat deep-set eyes—a look of cunning which was uncomfortably suggestive of treachery. His nails, after the custom of Zulus of rank, were enormously long and claw like. Such was the outward appearance of the chief of the redoubted Igazipuza.He was seated on a dried bullock-hide in front of his hut. A large white war-shield was held above his head to shelter him from the sun. Beside him sat his favouriteinduna, and in the mighty frame and evil countenance of this man, our two friends recognised the rival hunter who had so inopportunely stepped between them and their game a few days previously, Vunawayo.Dawes, knowing in such matters, and, moreover, keenly alive to all that passed, observed that the head-ringed men, who had marshalled them into the presence of the chief, sainted the latter with almost royal acclamation, although they did not give the “Bayète,” (Note 1), a fact which, taken with the white shield held above Ingonyama’s head—a royal custom—struck him as significant. He, himself, merely greeted the chief in the ordinary way, “Saku bona.”The greeting was acknowledged, rather stiffly. Then Ingonyama spoke—What he saw before him was strange, he said. Here was a man who spoke with their tongue fluently, though a white man—who was conversant with their customs. Yet this man, with his companion, appeared before him with arms in hand, came right up to him, their host and entertainer, holding guns. And the chief cast a meaning glance at the weapons.“Yes, I allow it isn’t precisely in accordance with good manners, as Zulus understand them, to do this,” returned Dawes. “But then neither is it for a crowd of people to rush into my camp and kill three men under my nose—insist on my accompanying them whither I don’t particularly want to go—and drive off my cattle in that same direction to ensure my following them. Yet this is what your people have done, O chief of the Igazipuza.”“Am I armed?” spake Ingonyama, very conveniently ignoring the other’s explanation and complaint. “Behold me,” stretching forth his hands; “I have not even a stick.”This was true. Yet if the redoubted head of the Igazipuza could afford to sit unarmed, surrounded by his fierce warriors, in perfect safety, it was an experiment which Dawes, in the light of recent experience, had no intention of trying. Indeed, as regarded himself and his companion, he considered it a highly dangerous one. To submit to coercion well-gilded and concealed like a pill, was good policy up to a certain point. When such coercion took the form of open and undisguised bullying, to submit was impolitic. In fact Dawes had resolved at all costs not to submit.“It is as the chief says,” he replied. “But if the chief is not armed, all his people are, and they are numerous. Now we are but two men—we are our own chiefs and people, too. Under these circumstances it is our custom to carry arms, and it is a custom we cannot lay aside.”“Whau! This white man has a valiant tongue,” muttered Vunawayo with a sneer.“And now, O chief, we will begin by demanding redress,” went on Dawes in vigorous pursuance of his policy of boldness. “Your people have treated us with something very like hostility—have forced us out of our way—and have over-driven our cattle and oxen. Yet we are not at war with the people of Zulu, nor have we quarrel with any tribe or clan within the same.”“Surely there is a mistake,” spoke Ingonyama. “The hostility you mention is but their method of showing delight. They hoped to help make you rich by bringing you hither to trade. What have you got to sell?”“Before I trade here, O Ingonyama, there is another matter I would speak about,” said Dawes. “With our waggons were certain Amaswazi. These people have been set upon by your warriors and three of them killed. What now shall we say when their chiefs ask, ‘Where are our children whom we hired to you to drive your cattle? Where are they, that they return not to their own land?’”“But they were not your servants,Umlúngu,” said Vunawayo. “Were they not already fleeing to their own land, when our people met them andturned them back? They had broken faith with you.”“Yet what shall we say when their chiefs ask for their return?” pursued Dawes. “What reply can we make?”“Reply? Say? Say that the spears of the Igazipuza are sharp,” returned Vunawayo with an evil laugh.“I think we have talked enough concerning a few Swazi dogs,” said Ingonyama, taking snuff. “And now,abelúngu, what have you got to sell?”“Yes. What have you got to sell?” echoed a chorus of voices from the spectators. And then the two, glancing around noticed that they were encompassed by a considerable force of armed warriors, who had gathered in groups, casually and as if by accident, but in reality with meaning and design.The chief had risen, and intimated his intention of proceeding to the waggons. Dawes, recognising the necessity of extreme wariness, offered no further objection. The armed warriors poured into the central space till it was full to overflowing, while others clustered about the outer side of the fence like a swarm of bees.Ingonyama was graciously pleased to accept a large pannikin of gin-and-water, which, having half emptied, he passed on to hisindunaVunawayo. He further relaxed over the gift of some snuff and a few other things of no great value intrinsically. With each present a chorus of thanks burst from the throats of all the spectators. This became a perfect roar as a gaudy umbrella, striped with all the colours of the rainbow, was added to the gifts.“What is this?” said the chief, now in high good humour, laying his hand on a great tufted tassel-like thing, which protruded from a bale.“This? A skin. Fine one, isn’t it?” answered Dawes, dragging it forth. And, unrolling it, he spread out the skin of a huge lion. A great shout went up.“Hau! The thing that roars! the thing that roars!” cried the warriors, in accordance with the strange custom which obliged them to use some other term to express the word which happened to be the name of their chief.(Ingonyama, means “a lion.”)Ingonyama’s eyes sparkled.“Wonderful!” he cried. “Wonderful! It is, indeed, a great skin!Whau!” And spreading it out, he stood contemplating it admiringly, walking around it and every now and then stooping to touch the massive mane, the great tufted tail.And in fact a fine skin it was, and had been well taken off and preserved—head and claws complete—even the skull, with the jaws and teeth.“And was it this one hole that let out the life?” said the chief, pointing to a single bullet-hole fair between the eyes. Dawes nodded.“And where was it killed?”“In Swaziland. I killed it.”“Ha! My ghost has grown fat and large upon Swazi dogs,” said Ingonyama, the reference being to the Zulu belief that every man has one or more guardian spirits which take the shape of some animal, and his of course, would be the lion. “I would possess it,” he went on. “What is the price?”“I had not intended to trade it,” answered Dawes. “But since you particularly want it, Ingonyama, ten cows is the price.”“Au!” cried the chief, with well-feigned amazement. “It is not worth five. Ten cows?Mamo! Was ever such a thing heard!”“I told you I did not want to trade the skin. You asked me my price and I have named it. It is too high. Good. We are both satisfied.” And Dawes proceeded to roll up the skin with the most perfect coolness.“Wait—wait! Do not be in a hurry. Let us talk,” said Ingonyama, while a murmur of astonished indignation went up from the warriors. Who was this dog of a white man who laughed at the wishes of their chief! They began to grip their assegais significantly.“It is too dear,” went on Ingonyama. “Yet I would have it. Take seven cows.”“My price is ten, and it is not a great price. Consider. If the chief of the Igazipuza were taking a new wife, he would require to pay more than that for her. Is not a splendid lion’s skin like this of more value than the mere price of a girl? Look at the size of it, the strength and blackness of the mane, the fine preservation of the head and teeth.”And again the trader jerked open the skin, before the eyes of the covetous chief.“Há!” said the latter. “I am not sure it will be a lucky deal for me. The lion is my ‘ghost,’Umlúngu, and see! this one has a ball between the eyes—between the eyes has its life been let out.”“May that never be your own lot, Ingonyama,” said Dawes. And as he uttered the words some strange instinct moved him to fix his eyes full upon those of the chief. Under the circumstances the look was a significant one.“Hau! This begins to look liketagati,” (witchcraft) muttered Vunawayo, scowlingly. “And ‘The Tooth’ is near.”“Take ten cows then,” said Ingonyama with a sigh. And he stretched forth his hand to take the skin. But Dawes did not tender it.“Where are the cows?” he said. “May I not see them?”“They are out grazing now,Umlúngu. At milking-time they will be here. Then they shall be driven to your herd.”“Quite so. And then the skin shall be carried to your hut, O chief,” returned Dawes, coolly. “And now I will drive my waggons hence and outspan them outside the kraal.” Then he proceeded to give orders to his native servants as unconcernedly as though he were starting from Maritzburg instead of moving through the armed ranks of hundreds of lawless and turbulent savages.In the evening the ten head of cattle were duly delivered. They were indifferent-looking beasts for the most part. Dawes surveyed them critically.“I don’t know that old Ingonyama hasn’t done us now, Ridgeley,” he said. “These are weedy looking brutes, but three, or perhaps four of them, ain’t bad; and I suppose we must take what we can get. I shall be glad enough to say good-bye to this place, and as soon as the stock and things are rested, we will try our hand at trekking away. And now let’s take the skin over.”Followed by Sintoba, bearing the lion’s skin, the two proceeded to Ingonyama’s hut. As before, the chief was seated outside on a bullock-hide, with Vunawayo and half a dozen otheramakehla, or ringed men, around him. This time he waxed quite friendly and conversational, and invited his involuntary visitors to sit down and drinktywala. This liquor, which is a species of beer brewed from maize or millet, was brought in huge bowls of baked clay. A gourd was apportioned to the two white men, but the Zulus contented themselves with the simple process of picking up the clay bowl and drinking therefrom; and Gerard, who had seen some beer-drinking among natives, still found room for astonishment over the enormous quantities which his present entertainers were able to absorb.The sun had gone down, and the afterglow had faded red on the surrounding cliffs, then merged into the pearly grey of twilight. The picturesque circle of the great kraal was alive with the figures of its wild denizens, lounging in groups or stalking among the huts. Files of girls returning from the spring, calabash on head, made melody on the evening air, lifting up their voices in song as they walked; and though the strain was monotonous and barbaric, the effect was not unpleasing; and the deep tone of men’s voices mingled with the shrill laughter and shriller shriek of children. The wavy glow of fires shone out upon the deepening twilight, and above the domed huts rose many a smoke reek.“What a strange rock that is,” remarked Gerard, referring to the great solitary pyramid which we have already described, and which, looming out in its isolation, seemed to gain in size. “What is it called?”“It is calledIzinyo—‘The Tooth,’” answered Vunawayo, after a momentary hesitation on the part of any one to reply.“That is a strange name,” said Gerard. “Is it so-called because of its shape?”“And becauseit eats.”“It eats!” echoed Gerard, mystified. “How? What does it eat?”“Wizards, and—other people,” said Vunawayo, darkly. And both Gerard and Dawes thought they saw more than one significant look exchanged, and both remembered the muttered remark of their informant while they were chaffering over the lion’s skin. That remark stood now explained, and in a very grim and boding sense did the explanation strike them.Note 1. The salute royal, only accorded to the king, as distinct from the “Inkose” or “Baba” (“Chief Father”), employed in hailing a lesser potentate.

The principal kraal of the Igazipuza lay in a great natural crater, surrounded by cliff-crowned heights. Like all the Zulu kraals it wore an excessively neat and symmetrical appearance in its perfect circular formation; the dome-shaped huts, which could not have numbered less than five hundred, standing between the double ring fences, which latter rose as high as a man’s chin, and being constructed of the thorniest of mimosa boughs tightly interlaced, presented a formidablechevaux-de-friseto whosoever would cross or break through them. It was a large and imposing kraal, as became the residence of an influential chief, the head quarters of a powerful clan.

The situation of the place had evidently been chosen with no insignificant eye to strategy. Shut in by its amphitheatre of heights, the bushy hollow wherein it lay was accessible from one side alone, and that could only be approached by an exposed and toilsome climb up a long and rugged slope. A sentinel posted on the heights around could descry the advance of an enemy for miles, and all the fighting force could concentrate their efforts on the one accessible point. Of course a couple of field-pieces planted on the nearest cliff could have banged the place to rubbish in half an hour, but to foemen armed as themselves, or even with rifles, this stronghold of the Igazipuza was a very formidable fastness indeed, and not far short of impregnable.

All these points did Dawes and Gerard take in as, upon the afternoon of the third day following their compulsory enterprise, the waggons creaked and groaned behind their panting, toiling spans, up the rugged acclivity aforesaid, whither their live stock, urged on by its very willing if self-constituted drivers, had already preceded them in a now vanishing cloud of dust. They noticed, too, on gaining the ridge whence they could look down upon the great kraal lying a mile or so before and beneath them, that the valley was one of considerable area, and though bush-clad was green and grassy. There was yet one thing more they noticed. Rising abruptly from the bush, about a mile and a half in the rear of the kraal, was a conical tooth-shaped rock, the more noticeable because it seemed to have no business to be there at all. It was a kind of excrescence on the natural formation of the ground, which was there smooth. Yet this strange pyramid, with its precipitous cliff-face, thus shot up abruptly to a height of nearly a hundred feet.

Their cogitations on this and other matters were interrupted suddenly, and in a manner which was somewhat alarming. From the tree-clad hillsides arose the same wild roaring shout which had preceded the massacre of the unfortunate Swazi runaways, and they beheld charging down upon them from either side a band of armed men, shaking their shields and assegais by way of adding to the strength and hideosity of the uproar.

“All this dancing and bellowing is getting just a trifle thin—eh, Ridgeley?” said Dawes, with a touch of ill-humour, as the savages came surging round the waggons, and amusing themselves by yelling at, and now and again goading, the already panting and terrified oxen. The Swazis, who had not dared leave the sides of their white protectors, turned grey with fear. This was too much like what had preceded the slaughter of their companions.

But the Zulus in the present instance confined their aggression to mere boisterous noise. And then the kraal in front seemed suddenly in a turmoil. Heads could be seen peering over the palisades, and another body of warriors came swarming from its gates. These advanced, marching in regular orderly column, to meet the wild uproarious crowd which was swaying and surging around the slowly progressing waggons; and as they approached they began to sing. The burden of their song might be translated in this wise—

“Ho! the Lion’s teeth are sharp,They bite, they tear;And the land is white with bonesRound the Lion’s lair.Lo! the prey comes home of itselfTo the Lion’s den,Where the Lion’s cubs grow fatOn the blood of men.Há, há, há!Grow fat on the blood of men!”

“Ho! the Lion’s teeth are sharp,They bite, they tear;And the land is white with bonesRound the Lion’s lair.Lo! the prey comes home of itselfTo the Lion’s den,Where the Lion’s cubs grow fatOn the blood of men.Há, há, há!Grow fat on the blood of men!”

The repetition of this ferocious refrain was, under the circumstances, anything but reassuring; the fell imagery of it only too alarmingly plain. Were they not indeed walking of themselves right into the “lion’s den”—the lair of this savage and freebooting chieftain whose very name meant lion in the Zulu language! However, there was nothing for it but to preserve a cool and unconcerned demeanour, as the singing warriors drew near; and thus marshalled, amid an indescribable din, the shrill chatter of women and children, the clamourous yelping of a hundred curs, mingling with the rattle of shields and assegai hafts, the rumble of tramping feet and the deep-toned, measured war-chant of the warriors, our two friends made their entrance into the Igazipuza kraal, after a fashion which, as Gerard remarked, was a cross between a procession to the scaffold and a Caesar’s triumph.

Dawes had wanted to leave the waggons outside, but this his escort—or captors—would not hear of. They must all enter, had urged the latter. To act otherwise would be to make the reception invalid, maimed, unlucky. They could go out again afterwards if they liked, and Dawes for his part sincerely wished they might.

Large as it was, the open space in the centre of the kraal, was nearly filled up with the two waggons and spans of oxen, besides their cattle and small stock which had been driven into it. A bush had now fallen upon the swarming throng, for Dawes had intimated his desire immediately to see the chief; and heads were bent forward in eager curiosity, and voices were hushed to whispers as, escorted by a group of ringed men, he and Gerard, leaving their waggons in charge of Sintoba and the other driver, but still inspanned, were ushered upon that errand.

The chief’s hut was no larger than the others, nor was there anything to distinguish it from them, except perhaps an open space in front of it. It faced, too, a gate in the inner kraal, and through this our two friends were marshalled accordingly.

The chief, Ingonyama, was a large, stoutly built Zulu of about fifty. He had a shrewd, intelligent face, and his shaven head, surmounted by the inevitableisicocoor ring, rendered his high broad forehead almost commandingly lofty. His jaw was square and resolute, but there was a shifty look in his somewhat deep-set eyes—a look of cunning which was uncomfortably suggestive of treachery. His nails, after the custom of Zulus of rank, were enormously long and claw like. Such was the outward appearance of the chief of the redoubted Igazipuza.

He was seated on a dried bullock-hide in front of his hut. A large white war-shield was held above his head to shelter him from the sun. Beside him sat his favouriteinduna, and in the mighty frame and evil countenance of this man, our two friends recognised the rival hunter who had so inopportunely stepped between them and their game a few days previously, Vunawayo.

Dawes, knowing in such matters, and, moreover, keenly alive to all that passed, observed that the head-ringed men, who had marshalled them into the presence of the chief, sainted the latter with almost royal acclamation, although they did not give the “Bayète,” (Note 1), a fact which, taken with the white shield held above Ingonyama’s head—a royal custom—struck him as significant. He, himself, merely greeted the chief in the ordinary way, “Saku bona.”

The greeting was acknowledged, rather stiffly. Then Ingonyama spoke—

What he saw before him was strange, he said. Here was a man who spoke with their tongue fluently, though a white man—who was conversant with their customs. Yet this man, with his companion, appeared before him with arms in hand, came right up to him, their host and entertainer, holding guns. And the chief cast a meaning glance at the weapons.

“Yes, I allow it isn’t precisely in accordance with good manners, as Zulus understand them, to do this,” returned Dawes. “But then neither is it for a crowd of people to rush into my camp and kill three men under my nose—insist on my accompanying them whither I don’t particularly want to go—and drive off my cattle in that same direction to ensure my following them. Yet this is what your people have done, O chief of the Igazipuza.”

“Am I armed?” spake Ingonyama, very conveniently ignoring the other’s explanation and complaint. “Behold me,” stretching forth his hands; “I have not even a stick.”

This was true. Yet if the redoubted head of the Igazipuza could afford to sit unarmed, surrounded by his fierce warriors, in perfect safety, it was an experiment which Dawes, in the light of recent experience, had no intention of trying. Indeed, as regarded himself and his companion, he considered it a highly dangerous one. To submit to coercion well-gilded and concealed like a pill, was good policy up to a certain point. When such coercion took the form of open and undisguised bullying, to submit was impolitic. In fact Dawes had resolved at all costs not to submit.

“It is as the chief says,” he replied. “But if the chief is not armed, all his people are, and they are numerous. Now we are but two men—we are our own chiefs and people, too. Under these circumstances it is our custom to carry arms, and it is a custom we cannot lay aside.”

“Whau! This white man has a valiant tongue,” muttered Vunawayo with a sneer.

“And now, O chief, we will begin by demanding redress,” went on Dawes in vigorous pursuance of his policy of boldness. “Your people have treated us with something very like hostility—have forced us out of our way—and have over-driven our cattle and oxen. Yet we are not at war with the people of Zulu, nor have we quarrel with any tribe or clan within the same.”

“Surely there is a mistake,” spoke Ingonyama. “The hostility you mention is but their method of showing delight. They hoped to help make you rich by bringing you hither to trade. What have you got to sell?”

“Before I trade here, O Ingonyama, there is another matter I would speak about,” said Dawes. “With our waggons were certain Amaswazi. These people have been set upon by your warriors and three of them killed. What now shall we say when their chiefs ask, ‘Where are our children whom we hired to you to drive your cattle? Where are they, that they return not to their own land?’”

“But they were not your servants,Umlúngu,” said Vunawayo. “Were they not already fleeing to their own land, when our people met them andturned them back? They had broken faith with you.”

“Yet what shall we say when their chiefs ask for their return?” pursued Dawes. “What reply can we make?”

“Reply? Say? Say that the spears of the Igazipuza are sharp,” returned Vunawayo with an evil laugh.

“I think we have talked enough concerning a few Swazi dogs,” said Ingonyama, taking snuff. “And now,abelúngu, what have you got to sell?”

“Yes. What have you got to sell?” echoed a chorus of voices from the spectators. And then the two, glancing around noticed that they were encompassed by a considerable force of armed warriors, who had gathered in groups, casually and as if by accident, but in reality with meaning and design.

The chief had risen, and intimated his intention of proceeding to the waggons. Dawes, recognising the necessity of extreme wariness, offered no further objection. The armed warriors poured into the central space till it was full to overflowing, while others clustered about the outer side of the fence like a swarm of bees.

Ingonyama was graciously pleased to accept a large pannikin of gin-and-water, which, having half emptied, he passed on to hisindunaVunawayo. He further relaxed over the gift of some snuff and a few other things of no great value intrinsically. With each present a chorus of thanks burst from the throats of all the spectators. This became a perfect roar as a gaudy umbrella, striped with all the colours of the rainbow, was added to the gifts.

“What is this?” said the chief, now in high good humour, laying his hand on a great tufted tassel-like thing, which protruded from a bale.

“This? A skin. Fine one, isn’t it?” answered Dawes, dragging it forth. And, unrolling it, he spread out the skin of a huge lion. A great shout went up.

“Hau! The thing that roars! the thing that roars!” cried the warriors, in accordance with the strange custom which obliged them to use some other term to express the word which happened to be the name of their chief.

(Ingonyama, means “a lion.”)

Ingonyama’s eyes sparkled.

“Wonderful!” he cried. “Wonderful! It is, indeed, a great skin!Whau!” And spreading it out, he stood contemplating it admiringly, walking around it and every now and then stooping to touch the massive mane, the great tufted tail.

And in fact a fine skin it was, and had been well taken off and preserved—head and claws complete—even the skull, with the jaws and teeth.

“And was it this one hole that let out the life?” said the chief, pointing to a single bullet-hole fair between the eyes. Dawes nodded.

“And where was it killed?”

“In Swaziland. I killed it.”

“Ha! My ghost has grown fat and large upon Swazi dogs,” said Ingonyama, the reference being to the Zulu belief that every man has one or more guardian spirits which take the shape of some animal, and his of course, would be the lion. “I would possess it,” he went on. “What is the price?”

“I had not intended to trade it,” answered Dawes. “But since you particularly want it, Ingonyama, ten cows is the price.”

“Au!” cried the chief, with well-feigned amazement. “It is not worth five. Ten cows?Mamo! Was ever such a thing heard!”

“I told you I did not want to trade the skin. You asked me my price and I have named it. It is too high. Good. We are both satisfied.” And Dawes proceeded to roll up the skin with the most perfect coolness.

“Wait—wait! Do not be in a hurry. Let us talk,” said Ingonyama, while a murmur of astonished indignation went up from the warriors. Who was this dog of a white man who laughed at the wishes of their chief! They began to grip their assegais significantly.

“It is too dear,” went on Ingonyama. “Yet I would have it. Take seven cows.”

“My price is ten, and it is not a great price. Consider. If the chief of the Igazipuza were taking a new wife, he would require to pay more than that for her. Is not a splendid lion’s skin like this of more value than the mere price of a girl? Look at the size of it, the strength and blackness of the mane, the fine preservation of the head and teeth.”

And again the trader jerked open the skin, before the eyes of the covetous chief.

“Há!” said the latter. “I am not sure it will be a lucky deal for me. The lion is my ‘ghost,’Umlúngu, and see! this one has a ball between the eyes—between the eyes has its life been let out.”

“May that never be your own lot, Ingonyama,” said Dawes. And as he uttered the words some strange instinct moved him to fix his eyes full upon those of the chief. Under the circumstances the look was a significant one.

“Hau! This begins to look liketagati,” (witchcraft) muttered Vunawayo, scowlingly. “And ‘The Tooth’ is near.”

“Take ten cows then,” said Ingonyama with a sigh. And he stretched forth his hand to take the skin. But Dawes did not tender it.

“Where are the cows?” he said. “May I not see them?”

“They are out grazing now,Umlúngu. At milking-time they will be here. Then they shall be driven to your herd.”

“Quite so. And then the skin shall be carried to your hut, O chief,” returned Dawes, coolly. “And now I will drive my waggons hence and outspan them outside the kraal.” Then he proceeded to give orders to his native servants as unconcernedly as though he were starting from Maritzburg instead of moving through the armed ranks of hundreds of lawless and turbulent savages.

In the evening the ten head of cattle were duly delivered. They were indifferent-looking beasts for the most part. Dawes surveyed them critically.

“I don’t know that old Ingonyama hasn’t done us now, Ridgeley,” he said. “These are weedy looking brutes, but three, or perhaps four of them, ain’t bad; and I suppose we must take what we can get. I shall be glad enough to say good-bye to this place, and as soon as the stock and things are rested, we will try our hand at trekking away. And now let’s take the skin over.”

Followed by Sintoba, bearing the lion’s skin, the two proceeded to Ingonyama’s hut. As before, the chief was seated outside on a bullock-hide, with Vunawayo and half a dozen otheramakehla, or ringed men, around him. This time he waxed quite friendly and conversational, and invited his involuntary visitors to sit down and drinktywala. This liquor, which is a species of beer brewed from maize or millet, was brought in huge bowls of baked clay. A gourd was apportioned to the two white men, but the Zulus contented themselves with the simple process of picking up the clay bowl and drinking therefrom; and Gerard, who had seen some beer-drinking among natives, still found room for astonishment over the enormous quantities which his present entertainers were able to absorb.

The sun had gone down, and the afterglow had faded red on the surrounding cliffs, then merged into the pearly grey of twilight. The picturesque circle of the great kraal was alive with the figures of its wild denizens, lounging in groups or stalking among the huts. Files of girls returning from the spring, calabash on head, made melody on the evening air, lifting up their voices in song as they walked; and though the strain was monotonous and barbaric, the effect was not unpleasing; and the deep tone of men’s voices mingled with the shrill laughter and shriller shriek of children. The wavy glow of fires shone out upon the deepening twilight, and above the domed huts rose many a smoke reek.

“What a strange rock that is,” remarked Gerard, referring to the great solitary pyramid which we have already described, and which, looming out in its isolation, seemed to gain in size. “What is it called?”

“It is calledIzinyo—‘The Tooth,’” answered Vunawayo, after a momentary hesitation on the part of any one to reply.

“That is a strange name,” said Gerard. “Is it so-called because of its shape?”

“And becauseit eats.”

“It eats!” echoed Gerard, mystified. “How? What does it eat?”

“Wizards, and—other people,” said Vunawayo, darkly. And both Gerard and Dawes thought they saw more than one significant look exchanged, and both remembered the muttered remark of their informant while they were chaffering over the lion’s skin. That remark stood now explained, and in a very grim and boding sense did the explanation strike them.

Note 1. The salute royal, only accorded to the king, as distinct from the “Inkose” or “Baba” (“Chief Father”), employed in hailing a lesser potentate.

Chapter Fifteen.“The Tooth.”In announcing his hearty desire to bid good-bye to the Igazipuza kraal as soon as possible, John Dawes had stated no more than the barest truth, but its fulfilment seemed destined to be postponed indefinitely, failing the conversion to his views of the Igazipuza themselves. They, apparently, did not share his aspiration. They were not nearly so anxious to part with him as he was to part with them, and objected most strenuously to all and every suggestion to that end. In sum, he and his companion and servants, and all their possessions, were practically prisoners. Ingonyama’s motives in thus holding them in restraint they were up till now at a loss to fathom. It was not trade, for they had long since bartered everything negotiable. It certainly was not friendship, for the chief’s manner had become sullen and distrustful, not to say gruff. John Dawes, who understood natives thoroughly, and knew that they are nothing if not practical, confessed himself utterly baffled, failing a motive.Once they had actually inspanned, but before they had trekked half a mile from the kraal they were met by a large force of armed warriors, and deliberately turned back. There was no help for it. Might was right, and comply they must. But, after that, under pretence that the chief had forbidden any grazing within a certain radius of the kraal, all their trek-oxen were driven away to a small outlying kraal in a distant corner of the hollow. No obstruction was placed in the way of them looking after the animals, counting them occasionally, and so forth. But any attempt at inspanning was very promptly frustrated.As with the chief, so with his followers. Taking their cue from him, these had become more and more insolent, ruffianly, and bullying in their demeanour. They would swagger around the waggons, hustle and annoy Sintoba and the other native servants, pull things about, and behave in general in such fashion as would almost put to the blush a crowd of the worst kind of British yahoos. Once, indeed, yielding to an uncontrollable impulse of exasperation, Gerard had given one of these sportive young savages a sound thrashing. It was an imprudent not to say a perilous thing to do. But again a bold attitude answered, and the Igazipuza became a little more respectful.Days had merged into weeks, and weeks had almost lengthened into months, and still no chance of getting away. Taking Sintoba into complete confidence the pair would, on such few occasions as they could find themselves absolutely and entirely beyond the reach of prying eyes and ears, discuss the situation earnestly and in all its bearings. The only motive either Dawes or Sintoba could guess at was that an Anglo-Zulu war was imminent, if it had not actually broken out. This would supply a sufficient reason for their detention. Ingonyama was holding them as hostages. In the event of hostilities with the British, his intention was probably to carry them captive to the king’s kraal. Or he might be keeping them with the design of sacrificing them to the manes of such members of his clan who might eventually be slain. This aspect of the case was not a pleasant one.Seldom indeed could they feel sure they were out of hearing of their gaolers, out of sight never. The latter were ever around them, on one pretext or another. If they so much as strolled down to a water-hole to take a swim, a group of armed warriors was sure to start up at some unexpected point, and hover around them until their return. If they rode out to see how their stock was getting on, it was the same thing, a band was sure to make-believe to be proceeding in the same direction, and they had long since ascertained that the sole entrance to the place was indefatigably watched and strongly guarded day and night. Now, all this surveillance, at first galling and irksome in the extreme, eventually became more serious in its results. It told upon their nerves. It was ominous—depressing. They were as completely shut away from the outer world in this wild and remote fastness of the Igazipuza as though shipwrecked on a desert island. Those grey cliff walls that encircled them became hateful, horrible, repellent. They were even as the walls of a tomb.“Well, Ridgeley, I own this is getting serious,” said Dawes, one morning as they sat on the waggon-box moodily smoking the pipe of bitter reflection. “And the worst of it is I see no way out of it. I’ve been in a queer corner or two in my time, but never did I feel so thoroughly like a rat in a trap as now. There’s no way of climbing these infernal cliffs; leastways, not with our horses, and without them, we might almost as well stop here, for we should be overhauled and lugged back to a dead certainty. The way we came up is no go, either.”“No, it isn’t,” agreed Gerard, despondently. “I don’t want to croak, Dawes; but it strikes me the tenure of our lives is not worth a great deal to any one who thought to do a good spec by purchasing it.”The suspense, the daily, hourly apprehension under which they lived, had made its mark upon Gerard, and even his cheerful spirits and sunny good humour had begun to fail him. He thought of his young life, and the joy and exhilaration of living which until lately had been his. He thought of those he had left behind him in the Old Country. But, most of all, full oft and continually—and he had plenty of time for thinking, little else, in fact—he thought of May Kingsland, and that bright golden day and happy peaceful evening he had spent in her society. How would she feel, he wondered, when she came to hear of his death—God grant it might not be a barbarous and lingering one—at the hands of cruel and merciless savages?“Don’t lose heart, Ridgeley, whatever you do,” said Dawes, looking at him earnestly. “The situation is pretty black, but, please Heaven, we’ll get through to talk over it snug and safe at home one of these days. The worst of it is that it’s all my doing you’re in this fix at all. That’s what I blame myself for, my lad.”“Then don’t think of doing that,” returned Gerard, with all his old alacrity. “Aren’t we in it together, share and share alike, risks as well as good times. Come now, Dawes, if I think you’re bothering over that, it’ll go far towards knocking the bottom out of me. Hang it all, can’t we get on the horses some dark night, and make a dash for it?”“We can’t, Ridgeley, and for this reason. It would simply be the death warrant of all our people if we succeeded, and of ourselves if we didn’t. I’m not a more straight-laced chap than most, but, you see, I can’t exactly bring myself to slope off and leave Sintoba and the rest of them in the lurch. No. We must either march out as we came, with all the honours of war, or—stay here.”“I never thought of it from that point of view, I admit,” said Gerard.“There is another scheme I’ve been plotting, but it don’t pan out overmuch,” went on Dawes. “If one could manage to smuggle you out, by hook or by crook, you might find your way to Ulundi, and lay the case before the king, always provided there’s no such thing as a British war, of course. But, bar that event, Cetywayo would soon bring Master Ingonyama to book. He’s a straight man, is Cetywayo, and well-disposed towards Englishmen, though we have been badgering him more than enough of late. But he’d never allow a couple of British subjects to be put upon in this outrageous manner by one of his own subordinate chiefs.”“By Jove! that is an idea,” said Gerard. “But would it be better than knocking up a rescue expedition among our own people—in Natal for instance?”“Rather. About five hundred per cent, better. Why such an expedition would mean a young war, and do you think Government would embark on that for the sake of a brace of poor devils of traders? Not much. It’d say we travelled at our own risk, and if we’d got into difficulties we must get out of them on the same terms. Even if otherwise, just think of the red tape! No. My plan is the best, and, I’m afraid, the only one.”For a few moments both men sat puffing at their pipes in silence. Gerard felt his pulses beginning to throb already with the excitement and prospect of such an adventure. Then he said—“It won’t do, Dawes; I’m not going to leave you. We must go out together or not at all.”“That’s no sort of good sense,” was the other’s rejoinder. “I shall be all right here, and it’s the only way out of the difficulty.”“But, on your own showing, they will take it out of you,” urged Gerard, speaking quickly. “Didn’t you give that as a reason just now for not leaving Sintoba and the others behind? You go, and leave me to take my chance here.”“Yes; but the cases are different, I can manage them better. You see, I understand them thoroughly, and you, after all, are a good bit of a novice. Still, you know enough of the country and people to get along among them, and find your way to Ulundi as quick as possible; but if you were left here on your own hook you’d likely make a mess of it. Tell the first you meet you are the bearer of a message to the king, and they will be bound to help you. They dare not refuse. We must pan out the thing, though, with every care. The main difficulty will, of course, be that of getting you clear out of this place, in the first instance. The rest is simplicity itself in comparison.”In the dead of night, by the light of a lantern, the two would sit in the waggon-tent, while Dawes, with surprising accuracy, drew from memory, and in as small a compass as possible, a map of that section of the Zulu country which comprised their present place of captivity and the king’s capital and night after night, with their heads together, they would sit studying this rough plan, while Dawes pointed out the general features of the country—the lay of the mountains and the most convenient and least frequented route to be chosen. With extra good luck, he reckoned Gerard might make Ulundi in a little over two days—with ordinary luck it might take him four. But that Cetywayo would order their immediate release he never entertained or uttered the smallest doubt.One day Gerard saddled up his pony, and started off alone to see how their stock was getting on. And, indeed, it really seemed that he was alone, for strange to say, none of the Igazipuza offered to accompany him, nor did he meet with a soul on the way. But between seeing nobody and being himself seen by nobody, he well knew there lay a wide difference, and he must be careful accordingly; indeed, he almost began to fear that this unwonted immunity from surveillance concealed a trap—was designed to draw him into some indiscretion, which might be turned into a reason for his destruction.The intense longing to escape, however, soon overweighed all prudential consideration to the extent of causing him to scan for the fiftieth time every cranny and crevice in the face of the cliffs, which might by any chance afford exit. Surely there was some such—a cleft, a gnarled tree, a concealed passage. Hardly could he believe there was not. But, even as heretofore, he could not find it, and despondently he once more turned his horse to ride back to the waggons.Suddenly the animal shied, and dropping his nose to the ground sniffed at something and then backed away, snorting. The white round object which had caused the alarm needed no second glance. It was a human skull.Yet another lay there, its fleshless eye-holes staring upward from the grass. Scattered around were fragments of broken bones.Gerard looked up. In his meditative fit he had ridden abstractedly, not seeing where he was going. Now he found himself at the foot of a great rock, and a cold shiver ran through his frame, for he recognised it as the rock calledIzinyo, “The Tooth.” It was the rock of slaughter—“the tooth that eats,” as Vunawayo had grimly put it.For various reasons he had always avoided this locality. He had no sort of an inclination to explore it—very much the reverse—and he feared lest in doing so he might unconsciously be offending the superstitions of the people. Now, thus brought by chance to its very base, he looked up at it with a cold, creepy sensation of shuddering awe. He contemplated it much as a Liberty, Equality and Fraternity “citizen” during the thick of the Reign of Terror, may have contemplated the guillotine, as an institution with which he might any day be called upon to cultivate a much closer acquaintance.He looked down at the shattered bones, then up at the cliff. This was the mode of death then. The victims were taken to the summit of this latter-day Tarpeian rock and hurled therefrom. But as he looked something seemed to be flapping softly against the face of the cliff high overhead. Ropes?Reims? Were people thenhangedfrom the brow—not merely thrown over? Hanging was not a Zulu method of slaughter. Gerard was more mystified than ever.And with this mystification came a great and growing curiosity. As he was here he determined to explore further. He would take advantage of being alone and unwatched to ascend the rock. A horrible fascination, which was more than mere curiosity, seemed to beckon him on, and with it ran an instinctive feeling that the knowledge thus gained might possibly be of use to him. Acting upon this impulse he rode round to the other side and began the ascent.The latter was not difficult. Precipitous only on its front face, the further side of the pyramid, though steep, was smooth enough to enable him to ride nearly to the top. Here, however, he was obliged to leave his horse and ascend on foot by a rough-hewn but well-worn path.The summit was large enough to hold about fifty persons. It was smoothly rounded, with a hollow depression in the centre. And as Gerard’s glance fell upon this, every drop of blood within him seemed to turn to ice.A sharp, tough stake, pointed at the top, rose upright in the centre of the hollow, and upon this stake, in a sitting posture, shrivelled, half mummified, was impaled a human body. The head lay over on the shoulder, and on the features, drawn back from the bared teeth in a grin of ghastly torment, was the most horrible expression of fear and agony. The eyeballs, lustreless and shrunken, stared upon the intruder with a stare that might haunt him to his dying day, and gazing upon the grisly contortion of the bound and trussed limbs—the terrible attitude—the foetid odour of the corpse—for in this dry atmosphere decomposition had been a long and gradual process—it seemed to the petrified and unutterably horror-stricken spectator that the tortured wretch must still have life in him.Recovering by a strong effort of will some degree of self-possession, for the horrid sight had turned him sick and faint, Gerard drew nearer to the corpse. The stake, burnt and hardened to a point, was of theumzimbilior iron-wood. This was clearly not the first time it had been so used, and now as he remembered the skulls and bones lying beneath, he thought with a shudder on the numbers of wretches who might have suffered this most hideous of deaths. Heavens! and might not he himself, and Dawes, be called upon to suffer in like fashion, at the mercy, as they were, of this horde of cruel barbarians?He turned his face outward to look over the valley. The sweet golden sunshine, now declining, shed a softened and beautiful light upon the verdure of the bush, toning down the angles of the grey cliffs. Blue smoke clouds curled lazily upward from the great circle of the kraal, lying below in the distance, and the sound of far-away voices floated melodiously, pleasingly upon the clear still air. It was a lovely scene, a scene that many might travel any distance to look upon, but to him who now gazed upon it from this grim and horrid Golgotha it was darker, blacker than the Tartarus of Dante.Then another sight arrested Gerard’s attention. Along the brow of the cliff was a row of stout pegs driven firmly into the ground, and round each was tied areim, or raw-hide rope, whose other end dangled over into space. These were what he had seen flapping overhead when he was below. With a shuddering loathing he drew up one of them. Its end was not a running noose as he had expected, only a loop, so small that he could not even put his hand through it. What new horror did this represent?And then a quick, deep-toned ejaculation behind made him start—start so violently in the sudden unexpectedness of the interruption in the then state of his nerves, that he was within an ace of losing his balance and pitching headlong over the height. Recovering himself, however, he turned to confront a tall Zulu who stood contemplating him with an expression of ironical mirth, and recognised the great frame and evil countenance of Vunawayo.“Ha,Umlúngu!” said the latter. “So you have come to look at the point of The Tooth?”“Yes,” answered Gerard, as composedly as possible. “But, Vunawayo, what is that?”“This?” said the savage, reaching up his hand to the point of the stake. “It is the point of The Tooth—the part it eats with.”“No; that, I mean,” pointing to the impaled corpse.“Hau! That is—its last morsel,” replied Vunawayo, with the laugh of a demon. “When The Tooth bites, it bites hard. Wizards—and such people. I told you it did.”“What, then, are these used for?” went on Gerard, showing the raw-hide rope which he had drawn up.“These? Ha! not all who come here to be eaten by The Tooth are bitten by its point. This loop you see was tied round a man’s wrists. He was then flung over to the full end of the rope, and his arms being fastened behind him, were broken by the jerk. He dangled there until he dropped loose. The last to suffer in this way was a woman who had been a captive, and was taken to wife by the chief. She killed her newborn child, saying that she would die rather than increase the strength of the Igazipuza. She did die—but she took a long time about it—a long, long time.”“And who was the man who was impaled, Vunawayo? What did he die for?”“Be not too curious,Umlúngu,” was the answer. “Have patience. There may soon come a time when you shall attend at the ‘eating of The Tooth.’ Have patience.”To Gerard, in his then frame of mind, it seemed that the other’s tone was fraught with grim irony, with fell significance.“Let us go down,” resumed Vunawayo. “Ha! our meeting up here has been short and unexpected. But it may be that we shall meet again upon the point of The Tooth, and then our meeting will be a much longer one. Oh yes; we shall meet again up here,” added the savage, with a sinister laugh, as he turned to lead the way down.And Gerard, unnerved by these evidences of the sickening barbarities practised by this ferocious clan, could hardly bring himself on his return to tell Dawes what he had seen.

In announcing his hearty desire to bid good-bye to the Igazipuza kraal as soon as possible, John Dawes had stated no more than the barest truth, but its fulfilment seemed destined to be postponed indefinitely, failing the conversion to his views of the Igazipuza themselves. They, apparently, did not share his aspiration. They were not nearly so anxious to part with him as he was to part with them, and objected most strenuously to all and every suggestion to that end. In sum, he and his companion and servants, and all their possessions, were practically prisoners. Ingonyama’s motives in thus holding them in restraint they were up till now at a loss to fathom. It was not trade, for they had long since bartered everything negotiable. It certainly was not friendship, for the chief’s manner had become sullen and distrustful, not to say gruff. John Dawes, who understood natives thoroughly, and knew that they are nothing if not practical, confessed himself utterly baffled, failing a motive.

Once they had actually inspanned, but before they had trekked half a mile from the kraal they were met by a large force of armed warriors, and deliberately turned back. There was no help for it. Might was right, and comply they must. But, after that, under pretence that the chief had forbidden any grazing within a certain radius of the kraal, all their trek-oxen were driven away to a small outlying kraal in a distant corner of the hollow. No obstruction was placed in the way of them looking after the animals, counting them occasionally, and so forth. But any attempt at inspanning was very promptly frustrated.

As with the chief, so with his followers. Taking their cue from him, these had become more and more insolent, ruffianly, and bullying in their demeanour. They would swagger around the waggons, hustle and annoy Sintoba and the other native servants, pull things about, and behave in general in such fashion as would almost put to the blush a crowd of the worst kind of British yahoos. Once, indeed, yielding to an uncontrollable impulse of exasperation, Gerard had given one of these sportive young savages a sound thrashing. It was an imprudent not to say a perilous thing to do. But again a bold attitude answered, and the Igazipuza became a little more respectful.

Days had merged into weeks, and weeks had almost lengthened into months, and still no chance of getting away. Taking Sintoba into complete confidence the pair would, on such few occasions as they could find themselves absolutely and entirely beyond the reach of prying eyes and ears, discuss the situation earnestly and in all its bearings. The only motive either Dawes or Sintoba could guess at was that an Anglo-Zulu war was imminent, if it had not actually broken out. This would supply a sufficient reason for their detention. Ingonyama was holding them as hostages. In the event of hostilities with the British, his intention was probably to carry them captive to the king’s kraal. Or he might be keeping them with the design of sacrificing them to the manes of such members of his clan who might eventually be slain. This aspect of the case was not a pleasant one.

Seldom indeed could they feel sure they were out of hearing of their gaolers, out of sight never. The latter were ever around them, on one pretext or another. If they so much as strolled down to a water-hole to take a swim, a group of armed warriors was sure to start up at some unexpected point, and hover around them until their return. If they rode out to see how their stock was getting on, it was the same thing, a band was sure to make-believe to be proceeding in the same direction, and they had long since ascertained that the sole entrance to the place was indefatigably watched and strongly guarded day and night. Now, all this surveillance, at first galling and irksome in the extreme, eventually became more serious in its results. It told upon their nerves. It was ominous—depressing. They were as completely shut away from the outer world in this wild and remote fastness of the Igazipuza as though shipwrecked on a desert island. Those grey cliff walls that encircled them became hateful, horrible, repellent. They were even as the walls of a tomb.

“Well, Ridgeley, I own this is getting serious,” said Dawes, one morning as they sat on the waggon-box moodily smoking the pipe of bitter reflection. “And the worst of it is I see no way out of it. I’ve been in a queer corner or two in my time, but never did I feel so thoroughly like a rat in a trap as now. There’s no way of climbing these infernal cliffs; leastways, not with our horses, and without them, we might almost as well stop here, for we should be overhauled and lugged back to a dead certainty. The way we came up is no go, either.”

“No, it isn’t,” agreed Gerard, despondently. “I don’t want to croak, Dawes; but it strikes me the tenure of our lives is not worth a great deal to any one who thought to do a good spec by purchasing it.”

The suspense, the daily, hourly apprehension under which they lived, had made its mark upon Gerard, and even his cheerful spirits and sunny good humour had begun to fail him. He thought of his young life, and the joy and exhilaration of living which until lately had been his. He thought of those he had left behind him in the Old Country. But, most of all, full oft and continually—and he had plenty of time for thinking, little else, in fact—he thought of May Kingsland, and that bright golden day and happy peaceful evening he had spent in her society. How would she feel, he wondered, when she came to hear of his death—God grant it might not be a barbarous and lingering one—at the hands of cruel and merciless savages?

“Don’t lose heart, Ridgeley, whatever you do,” said Dawes, looking at him earnestly. “The situation is pretty black, but, please Heaven, we’ll get through to talk over it snug and safe at home one of these days. The worst of it is that it’s all my doing you’re in this fix at all. That’s what I blame myself for, my lad.”

“Then don’t think of doing that,” returned Gerard, with all his old alacrity. “Aren’t we in it together, share and share alike, risks as well as good times. Come now, Dawes, if I think you’re bothering over that, it’ll go far towards knocking the bottom out of me. Hang it all, can’t we get on the horses some dark night, and make a dash for it?”

“We can’t, Ridgeley, and for this reason. It would simply be the death warrant of all our people if we succeeded, and of ourselves if we didn’t. I’m not a more straight-laced chap than most, but, you see, I can’t exactly bring myself to slope off and leave Sintoba and the rest of them in the lurch. No. We must either march out as we came, with all the honours of war, or—stay here.”

“I never thought of it from that point of view, I admit,” said Gerard.

“There is another scheme I’ve been plotting, but it don’t pan out overmuch,” went on Dawes. “If one could manage to smuggle you out, by hook or by crook, you might find your way to Ulundi, and lay the case before the king, always provided there’s no such thing as a British war, of course. But, bar that event, Cetywayo would soon bring Master Ingonyama to book. He’s a straight man, is Cetywayo, and well-disposed towards Englishmen, though we have been badgering him more than enough of late. But he’d never allow a couple of British subjects to be put upon in this outrageous manner by one of his own subordinate chiefs.”

“By Jove! that is an idea,” said Gerard. “But would it be better than knocking up a rescue expedition among our own people—in Natal for instance?”

“Rather. About five hundred per cent, better. Why such an expedition would mean a young war, and do you think Government would embark on that for the sake of a brace of poor devils of traders? Not much. It’d say we travelled at our own risk, and if we’d got into difficulties we must get out of them on the same terms. Even if otherwise, just think of the red tape! No. My plan is the best, and, I’m afraid, the only one.”

For a few moments both men sat puffing at their pipes in silence. Gerard felt his pulses beginning to throb already with the excitement and prospect of such an adventure. Then he said—

“It won’t do, Dawes; I’m not going to leave you. We must go out together or not at all.”

“That’s no sort of good sense,” was the other’s rejoinder. “I shall be all right here, and it’s the only way out of the difficulty.”

“But, on your own showing, they will take it out of you,” urged Gerard, speaking quickly. “Didn’t you give that as a reason just now for not leaving Sintoba and the others behind? You go, and leave me to take my chance here.”

“Yes; but the cases are different, I can manage them better. You see, I understand them thoroughly, and you, after all, are a good bit of a novice. Still, you know enough of the country and people to get along among them, and find your way to Ulundi as quick as possible; but if you were left here on your own hook you’d likely make a mess of it. Tell the first you meet you are the bearer of a message to the king, and they will be bound to help you. They dare not refuse. We must pan out the thing, though, with every care. The main difficulty will, of course, be that of getting you clear out of this place, in the first instance. The rest is simplicity itself in comparison.”

In the dead of night, by the light of a lantern, the two would sit in the waggon-tent, while Dawes, with surprising accuracy, drew from memory, and in as small a compass as possible, a map of that section of the Zulu country which comprised their present place of captivity and the king’s capital and night after night, with their heads together, they would sit studying this rough plan, while Dawes pointed out the general features of the country—the lay of the mountains and the most convenient and least frequented route to be chosen. With extra good luck, he reckoned Gerard might make Ulundi in a little over two days—with ordinary luck it might take him four. But that Cetywayo would order their immediate release he never entertained or uttered the smallest doubt.

One day Gerard saddled up his pony, and started off alone to see how their stock was getting on. And, indeed, it really seemed that he was alone, for strange to say, none of the Igazipuza offered to accompany him, nor did he meet with a soul on the way. But between seeing nobody and being himself seen by nobody, he well knew there lay a wide difference, and he must be careful accordingly; indeed, he almost began to fear that this unwonted immunity from surveillance concealed a trap—was designed to draw him into some indiscretion, which might be turned into a reason for his destruction.

The intense longing to escape, however, soon overweighed all prudential consideration to the extent of causing him to scan for the fiftieth time every cranny and crevice in the face of the cliffs, which might by any chance afford exit. Surely there was some such—a cleft, a gnarled tree, a concealed passage. Hardly could he believe there was not. But, even as heretofore, he could not find it, and despondently he once more turned his horse to ride back to the waggons.

Suddenly the animal shied, and dropping his nose to the ground sniffed at something and then backed away, snorting. The white round object which had caused the alarm needed no second glance. It was a human skull.

Yet another lay there, its fleshless eye-holes staring upward from the grass. Scattered around were fragments of broken bones.

Gerard looked up. In his meditative fit he had ridden abstractedly, not seeing where he was going. Now he found himself at the foot of a great rock, and a cold shiver ran through his frame, for he recognised it as the rock calledIzinyo, “The Tooth.” It was the rock of slaughter—“the tooth that eats,” as Vunawayo had grimly put it.

For various reasons he had always avoided this locality. He had no sort of an inclination to explore it—very much the reverse—and he feared lest in doing so he might unconsciously be offending the superstitions of the people. Now, thus brought by chance to its very base, he looked up at it with a cold, creepy sensation of shuddering awe. He contemplated it much as a Liberty, Equality and Fraternity “citizen” during the thick of the Reign of Terror, may have contemplated the guillotine, as an institution with which he might any day be called upon to cultivate a much closer acquaintance.

He looked down at the shattered bones, then up at the cliff. This was the mode of death then. The victims were taken to the summit of this latter-day Tarpeian rock and hurled therefrom. But as he looked something seemed to be flapping softly against the face of the cliff high overhead. Ropes?Reims? Were people thenhangedfrom the brow—not merely thrown over? Hanging was not a Zulu method of slaughter. Gerard was more mystified than ever.

And with this mystification came a great and growing curiosity. As he was here he determined to explore further. He would take advantage of being alone and unwatched to ascend the rock. A horrible fascination, which was more than mere curiosity, seemed to beckon him on, and with it ran an instinctive feeling that the knowledge thus gained might possibly be of use to him. Acting upon this impulse he rode round to the other side and began the ascent.

The latter was not difficult. Precipitous only on its front face, the further side of the pyramid, though steep, was smooth enough to enable him to ride nearly to the top. Here, however, he was obliged to leave his horse and ascend on foot by a rough-hewn but well-worn path.

The summit was large enough to hold about fifty persons. It was smoothly rounded, with a hollow depression in the centre. And as Gerard’s glance fell upon this, every drop of blood within him seemed to turn to ice.

A sharp, tough stake, pointed at the top, rose upright in the centre of the hollow, and upon this stake, in a sitting posture, shrivelled, half mummified, was impaled a human body. The head lay over on the shoulder, and on the features, drawn back from the bared teeth in a grin of ghastly torment, was the most horrible expression of fear and agony. The eyeballs, lustreless and shrunken, stared upon the intruder with a stare that might haunt him to his dying day, and gazing upon the grisly contortion of the bound and trussed limbs—the terrible attitude—the foetid odour of the corpse—for in this dry atmosphere decomposition had been a long and gradual process—it seemed to the petrified and unutterably horror-stricken spectator that the tortured wretch must still have life in him.

Recovering by a strong effort of will some degree of self-possession, for the horrid sight had turned him sick and faint, Gerard drew nearer to the corpse. The stake, burnt and hardened to a point, was of theumzimbilior iron-wood. This was clearly not the first time it had been so used, and now as he remembered the skulls and bones lying beneath, he thought with a shudder on the numbers of wretches who might have suffered this most hideous of deaths. Heavens! and might not he himself, and Dawes, be called upon to suffer in like fashion, at the mercy, as they were, of this horde of cruel barbarians?

He turned his face outward to look over the valley. The sweet golden sunshine, now declining, shed a softened and beautiful light upon the verdure of the bush, toning down the angles of the grey cliffs. Blue smoke clouds curled lazily upward from the great circle of the kraal, lying below in the distance, and the sound of far-away voices floated melodiously, pleasingly upon the clear still air. It was a lovely scene, a scene that many might travel any distance to look upon, but to him who now gazed upon it from this grim and horrid Golgotha it was darker, blacker than the Tartarus of Dante.

Then another sight arrested Gerard’s attention. Along the brow of the cliff was a row of stout pegs driven firmly into the ground, and round each was tied areim, or raw-hide rope, whose other end dangled over into space. These were what he had seen flapping overhead when he was below. With a shuddering loathing he drew up one of them. Its end was not a running noose as he had expected, only a loop, so small that he could not even put his hand through it. What new horror did this represent?

And then a quick, deep-toned ejaculation behind made him start—start so violently in the sudden unexpectedness of the interruption in the then state of his nerves, that he was within an ace of losing his balance and pitching headlong over the height. Recovering himself, however, he turned to confront a tall Zulu who stood contemplating him with an expression of ironical mirth, and recognised the great frame and evil countenance of Vunawayo.

“Ha,Umlúngu!” said the latter. “So you have come to look at the point of The Tooth?”

“Yes,” answered Gerard, as composedly as possible. “But, Vunawayo, what is that?”

“This?” said the savage, reaching up his hand to the point of the stake. “It is the point of The Tooth—the part it eats with.”

“No; that, I mean,” pointing to the impaled corpse.

“Hau! That is—its last morsel,” replied Vunawayo, with the laugh of a demon. “When The Tooth bites, it bites hard. Wizards—and such people. I told you it did.”

“What, then, are these used for?” went on Gerard, showing the raw-hide rope which he had drawn up.

“These? Ha! not all who come here to be eaten by The Tooth are bitten by its point. This loop you see was tied round a man’s wrists. He was then flung over to the full end of the rope, and his arms being fastened behind him, were broken by the jerk. He dangled there until he dropped loose. The last to suffer in this way was a woman who had been a captive, and was taken to wife by the chief. She killed her newborn child, saying that she would die rather than increase the strength of the Igazipuza. She did die—but she took a long time about it—a long, long time.”

“And who was the man who was impaled, Vunawayo? What did he die for?”

“Be not too curious,Umlúngu,” was the answer. “Have patience. There may soon come a time when you shall attend at the ‘eating of The Tooth.’ Have patience.”

To Gerard, in his then frame of mind, it seemed that the other’s tone was fraught with grim irony, with fell significance.

“Let us go down,” resumed Vunawayo. “Ha! our meeting up here has been short and unexpected. But it may be that we shall meet again upon the point of The Tooth, and then our meeting will be a much longer one. Oh yes; we shall meet again up here,” added the savage, with a sinister laugh, as he turned to lead the way down.

And Gerard, unnerved by these evidences of the sickening barbarities practised by this ferocious clan, could hardly bring himself on his return to tell Dawes what he had seen.

Back to IndexNext