"HAVILAND'S CHUM."
When Haviland expressed his belief, in conversation with Mr Sefton,
that the Zulu boy would prove able to take care of himself, he uttered a
prediction which events seemed likely to bear out.
When three or four of the fellows who sat next to him in chapel
conceived the brilliant idea of putting a large conical rose thorn--
point uppermost of course--on the exact spot where that dark-skinned
youth was destined to sit down on rising from his knees, they hardly
foresaw the result, as three or four heads were quickly and furtively
turned in anticipation of some fun. They were not disappointed either--
for Simonds minor, the actual setter of the trap, shot up from his seat
like a cork from a soda-water bottle, smothering an exclamation
expressive of wild surprise and something else, while the descendant of
generations of fighting savages sat tight in his, a rapt expression of
innocence and unconcern upon his dark countenance. Nor did the fun end
there, for the prefect in charge of that particular row, subsequently
and at preparation time sent for Simonds minor, and cuffed him soundly
for kicking up a disturbance in chapel, though this was a phase of the
humour which, while appealing keenly to the spectators, failed to amuse
Simonds minor in the very least. He vowed vengeance, not on his then
executioner, but on Anthony.
Under a like vow, it will be remembered, was Jarnley. Not as before,
however, did he propose to make things unpleasant for his destined
victim. This time it should be on dry land, and when he got his
opportunity he promised to make the very best of it, in which he was
seconded by his following--who connected somehow the magnitude of the
impos, given them by "that beast Sefton," with the presence of "Cetchy"
in their midst. So the party, having completed their said impos, spent
the next few days, each armed with a concealed and supple willow switch,
stalking their quarry during his wanderings afield; but here again the
primitive instincts of the scion of a barbarian line rendered it
impossible for them to surprise him, and as to catching him in open
pursuit, they might as well have tried to run down a bird in the air.
He would simply waltz away without an effort, and laugh at them: wherein
he was filling Jarnley and Co.'s cup of wrath very full. But an event
was destined to occur which should cause it to brim over.
One afternoon, owing to the noxious exhalations arising from a
presumably poisoned rat within the wainscoting common to the third and
fourth form rooms, both those classes were ordered to the big
schoolroom, and allotted desk work to fill in the time.
Now the rows of lockers were arranged in tiers all down one half of the
long room, leaving the other half open, with its big desk in the centre
dominating the whole. Ill chance indeed was it that located Anthony's
form in the row beneath, and himself immediately in front of, his sworn
foe.
Now Jarnley began to taste the sweets of revenge. More than one kick,
hard and surreptitious, nearly sent the victim clean off the form, and
the bright idea which occurred to Jarnley, of fixing a pin to the toe of
his boot had to be abandoned, for the cogent reason that neither he nor
any of his immediate neighbourhood could produce the pin. Meanwhile the
master in charge lounged in the big desk, blissfully reading.
"Look here, Cetchy," whispered Jarnley, having varied the entertainment
with a few tweaks of his victim's wool. "Turn round, d'you hear: put
your finger on that."
"That" being a penholder held across the top of one of the inkwells let
into the desk.
"Put it on, d'you hear. I'll let you off any more if you do. No--press
hard."
For Anthony had begun to obey orders, but gingerly. Once more was
Jarnley digging his own grave, so to say. The black finger was now held
down upon the round penholder, and of course what followed was a
foregone conclusion. Its support suddenly withdrawn, knuckle deep went
that unlucky digit into the well, but with such force that a very
fountain of ink squirted upward, to splash down, a long running smudge,
right across the sheet of foolscap which Jarnley had just covered,
thereby rendering utterly useless the results of nearly half an hour's
work. This was too much. Reaching forward, the bully gripped the
perpetrator of this outrage by the wool where it ended over the nape of
the neck, and literally plucked out a wisp thereof.
"I'll kill you for this, you black devil," he said, in a snarling
whisper.
But the reply was as startling as it was unexpected. Maddened by the
acute pain, all the savage within him aroused, and utterly regardless of
consequences, the Zulu boy swung round his arm like a flail, hitting
Jarnley full across the face with a smack that resounded through the
room, producing a dead and pin-dropping silence, as every head came
round to see what had happened.
"What's all this?" cried the furious voice of the master in charge,
looking quickly up. "Come out, you two boys. Come out at once."
Then, as the two delinquents stood up to come out of their places, a
titter rippled through the whole room, for Jarnley's red and half
scared, half furious countenance was further ornamented by a great black
smear where his smiter's inky hand had fallen.
Now the Reverend Richard Clay was hot of temper, and his method under
such circumstances as these short and effectual, viz.: to chastise the
offenders first and institute enquiry afterwards, or not at all. Even
during the time taken by these two to leave their places and stand
before him, he had flung open the lid of the great desk, and jerked
forth the cane always kept there; a long supple, well-hardened cane,
well burnt at the end.
"Fighting during school time, were you?" he said. "Hold up your coat."
"Please sir, he shied a lot of ink over my work," explained Jarnley in
desperation. Anthony the while said nothing.
"I don't care if he did," was the uncompromising reply. "Stand up and
hold up your coat."
This Jarnley had no alternative but to do, and as Mr Clay did nothing
by halves the patient was soon dancing on one foot at a time.
"No, no, I haven't done yet," said the master, in response to a muttered
and spasmodic appeal for quarter. "I'll teach you to make a disturbance
in schooltime when I'm in charge. There! Stand still."
And he laid it on--to the bitter end; and with such muscle and will that
the bully could not repress one or two short howls as he received the
final strokes. But the Zulu boy, whose turn now came, and who received
the same unsparing allowance, took it without movement or sound.
"Go back to your seats, you two," commanded Mr Clay. "If any one else
wants a dose of the same medicine, he knows how to get it," he added
grimly, locking up the cane again.
"Oh, wait till I get you outside, you black beast," whispered the bully
as they got back to their seats. "I'll only skin you alive--that's what
I'll do."
"Come out again, Jarnley," rang out Mr Clay's clear, sharp voice.
"Were you talking?" he queried, as the bully stood before him, having
gone very pale over the prospect of a repetition of what he had just
undergone.
"Yes, sir," he faltered, simply not daring to lie.
"I know you were," and again quickly the cane was drawn forth from its
accustomed dwelling place. Then, as Jarnley was beginning to whine for
mercy, the master as quickly replaced it.
"I'll try another plan this time," he said. "There's nothing like
variety." The room grinned--"You'll do seven hundred and fifty lines
for talking in school hours, and you're gated till they're done." The
room was disappointed, for it was looking forward to another execution,
moreover the bulk of it hated Jarnley. It consoled itself, however, by
looking forward to something else, viz.: what was going to happen after
school, and the smaller boys did not in the least envy Anthony.
The latter, for his part, knew what a thrashing was in store for him
should he fail to make good his escape; wherefore the moment the word to
dismiss was uttered, he affected a strategic movement which should
enable him to gain the door under convoy of the retiring master, while
not seeming to do so by design. Even in this he would hardly have
succeeded, but that a simultaneous rush for the door interposed a crowd
between him and his pursuers, and again his luck was in the ascendant,
and he escaped, leaving Jarnley and Co. to wreak their vengeance on some
of the smaller boys for getting in their way.
Anthony had been put into Haviland's dormitory, which contained ten
other boys, and was a room at the end of a much larger one containing
forty. This also was under Haviland's jurisdiction, being kept in order
by three other prefects. At night he was left entirely in peace, beyond
a slight practical joke or two at first, for the others were not big
enough to bully him, what time their ruler was perforce out of the room.
Besides, they rather liked him, for, as we have heard so unguardedly
divulged, he would tell them wonderful tales of his own country--for he
was old enough to just remember some of the incidents of the war, and
could describe with all the verve and fire of the native gift of
narrative, the appearance of the terrible impis, shield- and spear-armed
as they went forth to battle, the thunder of the war-song, and the grim
and imposing battle array. He could tell, too, of vengeful and bleeding
warriors, returning sorely wounded, of sudden panic flights of women and
children--himself among them--and once indeed, albeit at some distance,
he had seen the King. But on the subject of his parentage he was very
reticent. His father was a valiant and skilled fighter--so too, had
been all his ancestors--but he had fallen in the war. He himself had
been educated by a missionary, and sent over to England to be further
educated and eventually to be trained as a missionary himself, to aid in
evangelising his own people; although with true native reticence he had
refrained from owning that he had no taste for any such career. His
forefathers had all been warriors, and he only desired to follow in
their steps. Later on he imparted this to Haviland, but with all the
others he kept up a certain reserve.
To Haviland, indeed, the African boy had attached himself in doglike
fashion, ever since that potentate had interfered to rescue him from
Jarnley; yet his motive in so doing was not that of self-preservation,
for no word did he utter to his quondam protector that he was still a
particular object of spite to Jarnley and his following. At first
Haviland was bored thereby, then became interested, a change mainly
brought about by a diffident entreaty to be allowed to see his
collection of eggs, and also to be allowed to accompany him during the
process of adding to it. This was granted, and Haviland was amazed at
the extent of the Zulu boy's knowledge of everything to do with the bird
and animal life of the fields and woods, although totally different from
that of his own country. So he was graciously pleased to throw over him
the wing of his patronage, and the beginning of this strange friendship
was destined to lead to some very startling experiences indeed before it
should end.
But the school regarded it with partly amused, partly contemptuous
wonder, and in like spirit Anthony became known as "Haviland's chum."