"LOST!"
Now, as time went by, this white _isanusi_ still continued to dwell in
our midst in great contentment, for the King ordered that his treatment
should be of the best; and, indeed, it was so. From time to time he and
the Gaza would offer sacrifice together, as we had first beheld it.
Howbeit, he did not importune us with this new teaching, but busied
himself in going in and out among the people, talking to them, and
acting as a friend to all--even among the very lowest of the Amaholi and
enslaved captives. To these he taught that there would come a time when
they should be free--but the way to such freedom lay through the gates
of death; and this caused the slaves to shake their heads and jeer.
Their lives were hard, and they wanted to be free; but if the land of
freedom was only to be reached through the gates of death, why, then
they preferred to remain in the land of the Amandebeli. Yet among all
was this white _isanusi_ loved, because his words were ever soft and
kind; and soon the name by which he became known among the people was
that of "Father." There was one thing, too, which he never failed to
bring into his teaching--and this was that, although the King was
equally subject to the Great Great One who dwelt above the skies, yet
the people were none the less bound to obey the "word" of the King and
the orders of his _indunas_ and captains. And, this being so, he
retained the favour of Umzilikazi, who had set spies to watch him
secretly, and report what his teachings really were.
It happened that a few days after his arrival among us the white
stranger was with the King, for often would the Great Great One invite
him to an _indaba_, that he might listen to wonderful tales of far
countries beyond the sea. Yet when the _isanusi_ would tell once more
that marvellous tale which he had first told, and begin to set forth its
teachings, Umzilikazi would laugh softly to himself, and bring round the
talk to other matters. It happened, _Nkose_, that on the day I named,
an idea seemed to strike the King.
"See, now, father of the strange _muti_," he said. "Do all the white
people believe that great tale?"
We who were watching the stranger's face saw a troubled look come over
it, as he answered that nearly all did.
"Do the Amabuna believe it?" went on the King.
"They believe it, Great Great One--but not the whole of it."
"Ha! Not the whole of it! They are a lying and treacherous race,
deadly as a swarm of locusts! Say, my father, if they believed the
whole of it, they would lie, and steal land, and make slaves no more?"
"That is so, Black Elephant."
The King smiled grimly to himself as he took snuff. We, too, smiled.
Here were teachings which would never do for us--for although we of the
Zulu race did not lie, yet we took land and slaves, even as the Amabuna
did, and made war. Now these were customs we could not by any
possibility give up. Then the Great Great One leaned over, and
whispered a word to me.
Now the little white child we had taken from among the Amabuna was fast
becoming one of ourselves. Yet not; for those with whom she played she
would somehow cause to _konza_ to her, even in their games, as though
she were born to rule. If they played at building kraals, she it was
whose hut was always the largest. If the boys were playing soldiers, it
was always before her they came, singing the mimic war-song, and forcing
the defeated side to _konza_. She reigned among them as a little queen.
Even my two younger wives, who had the care of her, she seemed to rule.
They would not, however, allow her to run wild with our children, but,
as her clothing wore out, they made her garments of the softest of
dressed fawn-skins, ornamented largely with the most valued of beads.
And now, as in obedience to the word of the King, I led the little one
forth into his presence, and the stranger looked for the first time upon
the fair skin and flower-like little face--the heaven-blue eyes, and
hair like a stream of sunlight falling down the beaded robe of the
child--he made as though he would have leaped from his seat.
"See now, my father," said the King, as the little one put up her hand
and cried the _Bayete_, "here is one of thine own colour, though but a
tiny child. See now if thy story of the God of Peace is known in any
way to her."
Now the white _isanusi_ hardly waited for the word of the King, and the
change which came upon him was strange indeed. He sprang to his feet,
and advanced to the little one, who stared at him with her great blue
eyes, yet did not shrink from him as in fear of a stranger. Then he put
his hand over her head, and, looking upward and then down at her, his
lips moved.
"_Au_! he is placing a spell upon her," growled one who sat near me.
"It is not a spell that will harm," murmured another in reply. But no
more was said, for now the stranger was talking quick and fast in his
own language, and the little one might have been his own child, long,
long lost; for tears stood in his eyes as he talked, and soon rolled
down upon his great beard. _Haul_ It was a strange sight. He wept,
this white man who knew not fear: yes, here, in the presence of the
King, and of we _izinduna_ and war-captains, he wept, and that at the
sight of a little blue-eyed child!
But here was another strange thing. The little one's face wore a blank
look. Clearly she did not understand a word of what he was saying.
Truly a strange thing! These two white people--the old man and the tiny
girl--meeting thus by chance in the midst of our nation, understood not
each other's tongue!
"Speak to her with the tongue of the Amabuna, my father," said the King.
But of this language the white _isanusi_ had but scant knowledge, and in
the end the only tongue with which these two whites could converse was
that of the Amazulu. No, _Nkose_, not as yours was the tongue in which
that _isanusi_ spake. It was quicker--far quicker--and accompanied with
more movements, like that of ourselves.
"There, my father," said Umzilikazi. "The little one is of thine own
colour. Now begin with her, and teach her about this strange God, which
seems to me to be teaching more fitted for her than for us black ones."
The white man's face lighted up with joy at this permission, and he
poured forth many words of praise for the goodness of the King. And we,
too, we echoed the words of _bonga_ with a loud voice. And the little
one, she too seemed glad because of those words; and not long after, in
the presence of the King, and all who were then at Kwa'zingwenya, the
white _isanusi_ performed strange ceremonies over her, of which the
principal seemed the sprinkling of water, and declared she was now
especially a child of that great God of whom he had spoken. This
Umzilikazi was very willing to sanction, for was not the child white--
and a girl? But when it came to teaching warriors a belief that peace
was better than war--_Au_! that was a very different matter.
Now I had been kept so busy all this while, attending to the affairs of
the King and the nation, that no time had I to visit the mountain of
death and her who dwelt in the secret chamber thereof. Yet my mind was
ever in flight thither as I beheld its flat top standing out through the
haze afar off. Wherefore I resolved, for good or for ill, to journey
thither, as though to hunt.
Once well beyond the last outpost of our people I began to run,
travelling with a speed worthy the days when I was the King's chief
runner. At length I stood beneath the mountain and began to ascend its
slopes, and I sang softly to myself a song of gladness and of love as I
thought how soon I should be drinking in the strange sweet sorcery of
Lalusini's words and looks.
I had nearly gained the summit when a loud and savage growl brought me
up motionless in my own footprints, and, taking the great Assegai in my
right hand and advancing my small shield forward a little in the left, I
peered eagerly in search of the enemy.
Not a moment had I to look. The flaming eyes, the long, yellow shape,
the shaggy mane, almost blurred up as they were by the brown of the
mountain-side, represented nothing less than a lion--an enormous one,
crouching for a spring. There was no turning aside. Face to face we
had come, in this narrow gully. Neither could give way. One must
advance over the body of the other.
_Whau, Nkose_! This was no light matter; for to kill a full-grown lion,
single-handed, with spears only, is a business we never willingly
undertake. But this one gave me no choice, for, with a savage snarl, he
launched himself into the air.
I know not how I avoided that onslaught; but I was quick in those days,
_Nkose_, quick as any wild beast. What I did was to run in upon him,
flinging myself _right under_ his spring. Then, as he flew over me, I
flashed upright, and, poised on tip-toe, quick as lightning I hurled one
of my casting spears. It sang, quivering on its way, striking the
mighty beast slantwise in the ribs and sinking deep. With terrible
roars and snarls he rolled over and over, snapping at the spear-haft,
and biting his own skin in the agony of his pain, and, the more he
struggled, the deeper sank the spear. Now I saw what I would do. It
would be quicker and far safer, and I did not want to brave over much
danger just then. A great mass of loose rock stood poised upon a firmly
embedded one immediately above the body of the lion, which, with hideous
roars, was writhing and struggling beneath. Running to this, I mustered
all my strength for a push. It swayed and tottered. Another mighty
effort, the huge stone swung over and went crashing down the slope. The
aim was good. With a frightful yell the great beast yielded up his
life, and lay with ribs and spine shattered, while the rock tore down
the mountain-side in leaps and bounds, splitting into fragments as it
rolled.
"_Bayete_!" I cried, in my exultation; for I had done something really
great. "Hail, king of the plain and the mountain! A short burial shall
first be thine."
Collecting stones, I piled them upon the sinewy frame of the mighty
beast to protect it from the vultures; for I desired not to tarry then,
so eager was I once more to behold Lalusini. Then, having gained the
flat summit of the mountain, I took my way cautiously to the secret
entrance of the sorceress's retreat.
And now, as I threaded the dark passage through the earth, I began
softly to sing a song of love, which should let Lalusini know that I was
coming. But there came back no answering song. _Whau, Nkose_! Warrior
as I was, I felt weak then, and my pulses began to beat. I sprang down
into the great rock hollow. It was empty.
Then I felt like a man who would willingly die, so strong was the
witchery of the spell which this sorceress of Zulu blood had woven
around me. I called her by name, first softly, then louder, for I
thought she might be doing this to try me, and, even then, might be
watching me from somewhere, and laughing to herself at my discomfiture.
Still, no answer.
Then a hideous thought took possession of my mind. That great lion I
had slain! Had not Lalusini herself made mention of having heard its
voice rolling upon the mountain at night? Had she not expressed some
fear lest the beast might find its way in through the tunnel? As a man
who has gone mad, I sprang to the hole and examined the ground for
traces. But there were none--none such as would have been left by a
lion forcing his way in, and returning, dragging a heavy body. So the
possession of my senses returned, and I fell to making an investigation
of the place. Ha! The mystery was a mystery no longer. Lalusini had,
indeed, gone, but she had departed of her own free will, for most of the
articles necessary to her comfort, such as clothing, cooking utensils,
and so forth, had disappeared.
Yes, _Nkose_; my heart was sore within me. Whither had she gone? Was
it to return once more to that great, yet distant, people, among whom
she had promised to make me great? Wearied with the length of time I
had been forced to leave her unvisited--in the light of my hesitation to
agree to throw in my lot with hers under such mad circumstances of peril
and hazard--had she decided to leave me altogether? It seemed like it.
Yet, I would track her--would find her. And then I laughed at myself
for a fool, for how knew I, after all this time, which way to turn to
seek her? She might be far away by that time.
Sore at heart, I went up into the outer day again, and there upon the
summit of the mountain I sought long and hard for footprints. But I
sought in vain. There were none. Lalusini might have vanished like a
bird into the air.
All that day I searched. There might be other hiding-places upon the
mountain, even more secret than the one which was known only to me and
to her. But if this was so I know not. I only know that, search as I
would, no trace could I find of such.
Then I went down again into the rock hollow to pass the night, thinking
she might chance to return. But when I lay down to sleep, sleep would
not come, or if it did, only so lightly as to be more wakefulness than
sleep; and it seemed that the face of the beautiful sorceress hung over
me in my dreams, but when I would start to clasp her, calling her by
name, there was nothing, no sound but the howling of beasts, ravening
upon the mountain slopes throughout the night. And when the sun rose at
last, then mounted higher into the sky, and still Lalusini did not
return, I knew then that I had lost her forever, that never would I
behold her more.
So, with heart heavy and sore, I dragged myself away from the place, and
returning to where I had left the dead lion, cut off the head and
forepaws and the tail-tuft of the mighty beast, and, thus laden, took my
way back to Kwa'zingwenya, sorrowing exceedingly for the loss of her who
had thus bewitched me.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note. That this travelling priest was of French nationality was
somewhat confirmed, for on hearing that language spoken, although unable
to recognise any specific word, Untuswa declared that it seemed to bring
back to his mind something of the stranger's speech.