"Halt!"
Septimus Matterson put forth his hand and uttered just the one word, and
the effect was like fire applied to the train. A roar of menace and
fury ran through the whole crowd. A forest of dark grisly hands seemed
to tighten with murderous grip upon kerries, and assegais were shaken at
us; but the injunction was obeyed. The foremost were about fifty paces
from us, and others came swarming up in the background, forming an
immense half circle.
"We have come for the boy. He must die. He has slain two of our sons--
and they are of the House of Kuliso. He must die."
Such was the promising manner in which negotiations were opened. Now I
had been studying the Xosa tongue rather diligently since I had been at
Gonya's Kloof, and had acquired quite a smattering of it. Septimus
Matterson, of course, spoke it perfectly.
"Were they of the house of the chief?" he said. "But where is Kuliso?"
"Bring out the boy," they roared in response. "He must die. He has
taken two lives, and he must die twice. Bring him out, _Umlungu_, or it
will be the worse for all of you."
"Hear now, _amadoda_" came the reply, "the thing was an accident,
entirely an accident, and for it I will make due and complete
compensation according to your custom. Retire now and carry my word to
Kuliso and his _amapakati_, for surely I see no man of any note here."
This was indeed the case, and augured the worst. The wily chiefs could
plead afterwards that any outrage that might occur was the work of an
irresponsible mob. The latter, in no wise pacified, broke forth again.
"Compensation? Not so. Blood for blood. A life for a life--or rather
for two lives. That is the word of the people. And the two lives were
of the house of the chief. Bring out the boy. Bring him out."
The wild hubbub of voices grew louder and louder, and the ferocious
crowd closed in upon us nearer and nearer. Sticks were brandished, and
I could see more than one ruffian handling his assegai all ready for a
cast. It was a fearful moment. Our lives seemed to hang upon a hair--
and worse, for were we struck down or assegaied, would these barbarians,
in the fury of their blood lust, spare one living being within that
house?
"Shall we get inside and shoot?" I said hurriedly and in a low tone,
without turning my face from the enemy.
"No. We'd do no good that way. The bluster may wear itself out."
"Attend, _Umlungu_," called out one great voice. "If the boy is not
handed over to us immediately, we will take him. But first of all we
will kill all here."
"You will have to do that first, Sibuko," was the stern reply, "and in
doing it many of yourselves will die."
Sibuko! I remembered the name, and now, looking at its wearer, I
remembered him. It was the big Kafir to whom Brian had administered a
well-deserved thrashing on the morning after my arrival, and now this
ruffian was the leading spirit of the whole ferocious crew. We were
indeed in a bad way. It was manifest that no white man could surrender
his son into the power of these savages, even apart from their curiously
significant promise that he should die "twice." But--the way out?
"This is what shall be done," went on Matterson. "The boy shall be sent
into the town to be tried by the magistrate. The laws of the Government
are there, and are for all. Kuliso cannot make his own laws, unless the
Amandhlambe are prepared to make war upon the Government. When a white
man kills another he is tried and punished for it. When a Kafir kills
another the same happens. Both are punished by the same laws, the laws
of the Government."
I thought I observed a tendency among them to cool down at these words,
but that ruffian Sibuko walked up and down, haranguing them and
flourishing his kerrie, and in the result a number of them went round to
the back of the house. Well, this did not distress us much. We thought
that Beryl would know what to do in such an emergency.
"The boy!" they howled again. "Give him up to us, or we will kill you
all and roast you in the flames of your burning house. Now, _Umlungu_,
bring out the boy."
Septimus Matterson put up his hand. The clamour stilled.
"Listen," he said, and his voice rang out loud and clear. "You shall
not have the boy. We hold twelve lives here," drawing his revolver and
pointing it, an example I promptly followed. "Before you kill us twelve
men shall die. You know me."
The silence that followed upon the tumult was well-nigh alarming. The
clamourous savages had imagined that they had two unarmed men to deal
with, and now the sight of two business-like six-shooters pointed
straight at them seemed to throw a different light on affairs. They
were hundreds, it was true. But that twelve men, or near it, would
certainly fall before they could reach us they fully realised, the point
of which was that none of them wanted to constitute one of the twelve.
I stole a sidelong look at Septimus Matterson, and thought to discover
something of what had daunted them, for his face wore the aspect of the
strong, quiet man thoroughly roused, and, more dangerous still, deadly
cool through it all. At the same time came Beryl's voice from the other
side of the house, sharp and clear upon the silence, saying in their
tongue--
"These two guns are heavily loaded with buckshot. I will pour all four
barrels into the mass of you if you make a step forward. After that I
still hold six lives."
Looking back, I can hardly ever have gone through a more strained crisis
of tense excitement than that moment afforded. The great crescent of
ochre-smeared, infuriated savages seemed to shrink into itself, as
though concentrating for a decisive rush, and indeed I don't care to
think what the next moment might have brought forth had not a diversion
occurred.
Coming up the kloof at a swift canter were four mounted figures.
Police? No. Three of them were Kafirs, the fourth a white man.
"_Au_! _Namhlanje_!" went up from the crowd, and heads were turned to
watch the new arrivals.
Now "Namhlanje" was Brian's native name, which, meaning "to-day," had
been bestowed upon him as characterising his quick decisive way of doing
things, and when linked with it was uttered another name, Usivulele, I
began to think the crisis was past, for the name was that of one of the
Ndhlambe chiefs, whose influence was hardly inferior to that of Kuliso
himself.
Hostilities were suspended pending the arrival of these, and, as they
rode up, the threatening and tumultuous clamour was changed into
deep-toned salutations addressed to the chief.
The latter was a well-built elderly man, with no insignia of
chieftainship about him, not even the thick ivory armlet which he wore
just above the left elbow, for several of his followers wore this
adornment too. But the deference displayed towards him by this unruly
mob, that told its own tale. For such is the prestige and authority of
a tribal chief among the Amaxosa that if you have him on your side in
any dispute with his subjects, why, the matter is settled. That now
Usivulele was upon our side I had no doubt, seeing that Brian was riding
with him. The other two were old men with grizzled heads, and were
_amapakati_, or councillors. Way was at once made for the group, and a
rush to hold their horses as they dismounted.
"I see a chief," said Septimus Matterson in figurative greeting--he had
already put away his revolver, and so had I, with a feeling of relief it
would be impossible to exaggerate. "Now we can talk."
"My heart is very sore over what has happened, my friend," he went on.
"Yet he who has done this thing is a child, and he has done it by
accident. When a child does that for which a grown man would be killed,
he is not killed because he is only a child. He is not killed, but he
is punished. Is it not so?"
The three uttered a murmur of assent. Brian said nothing.
"Well, then, although this thing was an accident, and although the child
is my own son, I do not propose to shield him from punishment. But it
is not for me, and it is not for these here, to decide on what
punishment he shall receive. It is for the law. Therefore I am going
to send to Fort Lamport for the _amapolise_, and the boy will be taken
to the magistrate there. After that we must leave him to the laws of
the Government. Say. Is not that just and fair?"
"_Ewa_," assented the three, and I observed that a like murmur went up
from not a few in the listening crowd.
"_Hau_!" broke forth one voice. "What of our father, Kuliso? Those who
are killed were of his house."
The interruption had proceeded from Sibuko. The hulking ruffian,
standing there in the forefront, his muscular frame smeared from head to
foot with red ochre, a vengeful sneer upon his savage face as he
significantly gripped his kerries, struck me as about as evil and
formidable an impersonation of barbarism as it would be possible to
present.
"Yes. What of our father, Kuliso?" echoed others. But Usivulele merely
waved a hand, and there was silence as by magic.
"You all know me, _amadoda_," went on Septimus Matterson. "Now I will
write a letter to the magistrate, and two of your number shall carry it.
By to-night the _amapolise_ will be here."
"_Hau_! The _amapolise_ will be here. But will the boy be here?" said
the abominable Sibuko, with his head craftily on one side.
"You can see for yourselves. Let some of you watch the house until the
_amapolise_ arrive."
"But how do we know he is here now?" went on this persistent savage.
"He may have been taken away quietly during all this time. Bring him
out, and let us see him."
"_Ewa_, _ewa_!" shouted several.
This would have been acceded to, when a sudden instinct of the impolicy
of such a course flashed across my mind, and I take a sneaking pride in
having supplemented judgment to so experienced and judicious a mind when
for once that attribute seemed to fail.
"Don't you do it," I said hurriedly and in an undertone. "No point in
making the boy too _marked_, under the circumstances. Show him to the
chief only."
"You're right, Kenrick." Then aloud: "The chief will satisfy you. He
will come into my house and see the boy."
While this was being done Brian quickly put me up to his own movements.
There was no doubt about it but that two of the Kafir boys were dead.
It was a most lamentable and unfortunate affair for everybody concerned.
How had he fallen in with Usivulele? Ah, that was something of a piece
of luck. He had got wind of a dangerous demonstration being organised,
had seen the Kafirs swarming along the hillsides from different points,
but all converging upon the same--our valley to wit. Only one way to
counteract this had suggested itself, and accordingly he had ridden
straight and hard for Usivulele's kraal. He and his were on exceedingly
friendly terms with that chief, and he had soon prevailed upon him to
intervene.
"Well, Brian, if ever a man did the right thing at the right time, you
did it then. A few minutes later would have been so many minutes too
late."
"I believe so," he said. "I could see that things were looking as ugly
as they could. Well, it'll be all right now, at least as far as
Kuliso's people are concerned."
Then Usivulele came forth again, and began haranguing the crowd. The
whole thing was as had been said, he informed them, and they might now
go home. The matter was in his hands now, and he would remain until the
boy was handed over to the _amopolise_. This he himself would see done.
Then he chose two men to carry the letter in to Fort Lamport, and the
crowd began to break up. A few manifested a disposition to hang around
and see the thing out, and this was not objected to, but the remainder
scattered off in groups, or by twos and threes, and glad indeed we were
to see the last of them.
It may be imagined what a gloom there was over us all during the
remainder of that day. Beryl hardly appeared, and George not at all,
and even poor little Iris had lost her sunny flow of spirits. We three
men had hardly the heart for anything, and got through time chatting
with the chief and his councillors, who, incidentally, were lavishly
entertained. But it was not until late at night that a squad of Mounted
Police arrived, under a sergeant, to take charge of the boy.
We were not sorry to learn either from the same source that a strong
patrol would be working along this side of Kuliso's location, for it was
arranged that we should all start for Fort Lamport together at daybreak.