"No one, in all the land of Zulu--white or not--could mistake Sapazani
for anything but a chief."
Now, her customers having retired outside, and there being no sign of
others arriving, Verna betook herself outside too. The rich glow of
sunshine filled the air, seeming to envelop the fine form of this
splendid daughter of the wilderness in its sensuous embrace. She stood
for a moment gazing forth--her clear eyes dilating upon the glories of
the far-spreading landscape. Then her glance rested upon her father,
who, seated under a tree a little way distant, was engaged in apparently
earnest converse with a single Zulu.
The latter she recognised as one Undhlawafa, a man she knew well, and
the favourite and trusted induna of Sapazani. What were they talking
about? she wondered. Well, whatever it was she would not interrupt
them, so she passed on into the dwelling-house.
Undhlawafa, who up till then had been talking preliminary commonplace,
half turned to make sure she was safely out of earshot. Then he went on
to expatiate on a very large koodoo bull that was always to be met with
of late in the same haunts down yonder in the Lumisana forest. And now
the moon was nearly at full. Horns? Such horns, went on Undhlawafa.
_Whau_! Horns of such a size had never been seen. His listener was
vividly interested.
The matter touched Ben Halse on two points of his character--love of
sport, and love of money-making. For the first, he, an old up-country
man, resented the restrictions as to the killing of game that had come
in with the British occupation of Zululand. These were all very well up
to a certain point, but when it came to being obliged to obtain a
magisterial permit to kill one head of anything in particular, why, then
it became a bit chafing. It was one thing to restrict big
shooting-parties from outside coming in and slaughtering everything
indiscriminately, but to prohibit an old pioneer like himself from
shooting a buck of any sort when he wanted to, was another. Prohibition
or not, however, many a head of game did fall at the full of the moon,
when Ben Halse chose to take the war-path; and every such head would
have entailed upon him a ruinous fine did the circumstance come to the
ears of the authorities, together with sufficient evidence to support a
prosecution. Well, as to that, he took chances, as he had done all his
life with regard to everything. One thing was certain--none of the
natives would give him away, and there were no whites in the
neighbourhood within a long distance. Now and again a patrol of mounted
police would pass that way, but he would always be informed of the
approach of such at least half-a-dozen hours before its arrival. Then,
when it did arrive, why, Ben Halse's hospitality was a household word
among the Field Force division of that useful corps, the Natal Police.
So much for the first. But for the second, wherein did the love of
money-making come? In this way: The trader was in touch with a wealthy
and enthusiastic collector of every kind of natural history specimen.
The latter was resident in England, and would pay almost any price for a
record specimen of anything, and in this way Ben Halse had made quite a
little income. Now the horns of this koodoo, as described by
Undhlawafa, and even allowing for native exaggeration, sounded like a
very "record" pair indeed. It would fetch a long price, apart from the
fun of a bit of night-poaching, which last appealed to the adventurous
side of the old pioneer. But not out of sheer love of money for its own
sake did the latter never let slip an opportunity of making it. No; it
was on Verna's account, and up till now he had done very well indeed.
So Ben Halse and the induna agreed to stalk the big koodoo bull with the
"record" horns on the following night.
Then Undhlawafa began to talk about other things. He had produced a
sovereign and was playing with it. The round gold which the whites had
brought them was good, he said presently. Every one desired it, white
or black. There was a spot down in the Lumisana forest where twenty
times ten of such pieces were hidden. They were, in fact, hidden there
for U' Ben to take out when he pleased--upon certain conditions.
Upon certain conditions! Yes. Two hundred sovereigns made up a very
comfortable haul. There were two or three packages, the Zulu went on to
explain, that U' Ben was required to bring from a certain quarter for
Sapazani and one other. U' Ben had a waggon, and he had ridden loads
for them before. Had he not always been paid promptly and well? And
the trader answered unhesitatingly that he had. Yet he seemed in no
hurry to close with the offer. The other, as the way of his race is,
manifested no impatience.
"The money is there. It can be taken before anything is done," went on
Undhlawafa. "U' Ben's word is as certain as that the sun will rise.
The conditions will be fulfilled."
We have said that Ben Halse's record was not quite clear; that there
were dark hints whispered against him with regard to liquor-smuggling
and gun-running. As for the latter, whatever had been done in that line
had been done during the civil war in the country what time the Usutu
party and Sibepu were striving for the mastery. In common with all
others of his class and tradition, and with many others besides, he held
that if the natives chose to get up a fight among themselves that was
their look-out, and, in fact, so much the better, in that it would serve
the dual purpose of keeping down their numbers, and giving them the
opportunity of letting loose the spirit of Donnybrook upon _each other_;
wherefore if they wanted firearms for that purpose he had no scruple in
supplying the side that would pay the highest price. Now, however, the
case was different. Undhlawafa's "dark" talking was clear enough to
him. Such a bribe as two hundred pounds could only mean one thing, and
that was not liquor-smuggling.
"The load is there," went on the Zulu. "It is only for bringing it in--
the price. Is it not high enough?"
Still Ben Halse did not reply. Yes, the circumstances now were
different. The country was now fairly populated with whites, among them
hundreds of women and children. All of these he knew were virtually
sitting on the crater of a volcano, and he had often said so, only to be
derided as a scaremonger. He, however, knew that sooner or later the
eruption would take place.
As Undhlawafa had said, this man's word was as certain as that the sun
would rise; and this held good equally among white and black. But when
it came to a question of making money--though never known to go back
upon his word--Ben Halse was not scrupulous as to how he made it. In
dealing with natives of authority or position, or both, and, indeed,
with many others, he had found them absolutely reliable. He knew now
that were he to demand double the price of the service asked of him he
would almost certainly receive it; yet he was in no hurry to close with
the offer. The induna, the while, sat placidly taking snuff. Then
Verna's clear voice was heard.
"Father, come along in. The dinner will be spoiled."
"We will go after that big koodoo bull to-night, Undhlawafa," he said,
rising to go inside.
"_Nkose_!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Whatever have you and old Undhlawafa been yarning about all this time,
dear?" asked Verna, as they sat at table.
"He says there's a thundering big koodoo bull down in the Lumisana, one
with record horns. We are going after him to-night."
Verna half started from her chair and her eyes sparkled.
"What fun! Why, so we will."
"Hallo! _We_! Now my `we' didn't include a girl."
"No? It included this girl, though," was the tranquil reply.
"Did it? I've only got one girl, and I'm not going to have her breaking
her neck over stones, or scratching her eyes out in the dark, in that
infernal tangle, or getting bitten by some beastly black mamba, or
something of that sort."
Verna's eyes danced.
"Since when have you discovered that I was made of sugar, dear?" she
said sweetly. "I've never been into the bush with you before, have I?
Never helped you to defy the game laws of--I was going to say _our_
country, but it's hard to tell exactly whose country it is. Never--have
I?"
"Oh well, I'm getting old now, and the part we are going into isn't
adapted to a skirt. Besides--"
"Besides--what?"
"Nothing."
Perhaps that other consideration had occurred to him. Decidedly she
would be in the way--under certain circumstances.
"Oh well, it doesn't matter," rejoined Verna tranquilly. "I'm going,
anyhow."