STAYING A KAFFIR EXECUTION--I ASK METILULU'S PERMISSION TO LEAVE--THE
BOOMSLANGE--THE CHIEF'S ANSWER.
As may be easily conceived, the talk of our past lives, and our delight
at once more being in each other's company, carried us far into the
night before we would surrender ourselves to sleep; yet we were up
nearly as early as any in the kraal the next morning, and gladly fell to
upon some biltongue and amasi which had been found in the huts; then,
hearing that Metilulu was inspecting his regiments, we thought it but
politeness to be present. On arriving at the place, however, the review
had nearly finished, the brave had been rewarded, and only the unworthy
remained to be punished. Of the latter it happened that there was but
one, and he had not been guilty of cowardice, but of a crime punishable
by death in Caffraria.
The criminal was one of the finest specimens of the race I had ever
seen, being tall, exquisitely formed, graceful, and majestic. Silently
he knelt before Metilulu, his head bent submissively, awaiting the
sentence. From a little distance, but within hearing range, we stood to
learn what that would be. It came very speedily: the prisoner had
already pleaded guilty, and the verdict was that he should be cast alive
to the crocodiles, who on the river banks, not far off, gnashed their
terrible jaws, apparently conscious of the prey destined for them.
Scarcely had the sentence been uttered, and the Kaffir had arisen,
without a murmur, for it to be put into execution, than Mr Ferguson,
suddenly quitting my side, walked, erect and unhesitatingly, up to
Metilulu. Guessing his intent, and fearful of the consequences, I,
beseeching hot-brained Jack to keep back, hurried after him. On drawing
near I found I was correct in my surmise. The young missionary, in
earnest, eloquent terms, was pleading the prisoner's cause, and praying
for a commutation of the sentence.
Metilulu looked and listened in silent astonishment; but, as I anxiously
marked his features, I fancied they gradually assumed a pleased,
friendly expression, quite the reverse of anger at being interfered
with. As I came up Mr Ferguson was saying--
"You, Metilulu the great!--you, the recognised mighty Chief of the
numerous tribes dwelling in this vast and beautiful land of Caffraria--
has not your victory been complete? Has not but a few hours back
triumph been given you over those who but lately would have made you
captive? Why, then, should one so favoured stain the day of rejoicing
by condemning to a horrible death, for a slight offence, one of those
warriors to whose bravery, to whose devotion, he partly owes that
triumph? Truly you are strong, you are courageous, but one arm alone
could not have crushed the tribe of Kabela. You had need of warriors,
and you found them, brave, willing, and submissive. Surely, then, noble
Metilulu, you will let your hand dispense mercy as well as justice.
This is no time to speak of the power of Heaven and the Rewarder of all
great deeds, for the ground of your heart has as yet been prepared by no
refreshing dews; but all grand souls must recognise the mighty power of
mercy, and surely you will forgive this man in honour of the day of
victory, if for nothing else."
Mr Ferguson finishing, earnestly, respectfully waited a reply, when,
thinking my turn had come to put in a word for the poor fellow, I
hurried forward, and kneeling, according to Kaffir custom, said--
"Noble Metilulu, if my friend's prayers to save this warrior have not
had sufficient weight with you, then let mine be added to his. Let him
be spared; extend your hand in mercy towards him. It is the white men
who beseech your clemency; for their sakes grant it."
Metilulu was silent a moment; then replied, "You white men are a strange
people, yet I have listened to your words with pleasure; you are
soft-hearted, but you are friends to the Kaffir. Umatula," he added,
turning to the warrior, "I reverse your sentence--you may live. These,
my friends, have interceded for you; thank them, not me, as it is
because of them that I pardon you. Live, and show by future deeds your
sorrow for your past crime."
His dusky face beaming with delight, Umatula bowed low till his forehead
touched the ground before Metilulu--afterwards to us--then, starting up,
proudly grasped his shield and assagais, exclaiming--
That, to show his gratitude for the Chief's gracious pardon, no warrior
in Metilulu's regiments should ever outrival him in warlike deeds, while
he reckoned his life to belong to the noble-hearted white faces. They
had but to ask him for it, and it was theirs to do with it as they
would.
This over, Metilulu, dismissing the troops, bade us sit down, he
evidently being inclined for a chat. I was no little pleased that it
should be so, for during our long talk the previous night it had been
arranged that I should try to obtain leave for myself and Thompson to
make our way to a white settlement, which Mr Ferguson said he knew was
not very far off, and might be easily attained with a native guide.
Both Jack and I had earnestly besought the minister to accompany us, but
he firmly refused, saying he believed Providence had had a purpose in
casting him on that shore, where he had already found that his words had
not fallen entirely on stony places; therefore he should be but a poor
soldier of heaven, indeed, did he leave so fair and promising a work
uncompleted.
No moment, it appeared, could have been more opportune than that I had
chosen to speak about my departure, for the Chief was in the most
obliging of humours. When, however, after a long talk respecting Kaffir
affairs, I managed, by Mr Ferguson's aid, to bring the subject round to
our own land and my strong desire to visit it--ending by stating how I
had heard from my friends that a white settlement was not far off--if he
would but grant me a guide and his royal permission to return, his face
grew grave and my heart sunk.
Neither, however, refusing nor acquiescing, he asked why it was I could
not be happy there. To which I answered, "that all who were dear to me,
all who made life worth living, in my eyes, were in England, and my
heart was pining for them. Indeed, I felt I could not exist, but must
die, if kept longer in uncertainty of their fate."
I spoke as eloquently as I could, and Mr Ferguson also did what he was
able, but Metilulu seemed in no way ready to grant the request. He said
he liked me, that he had proved this even more than I knew--of course he
referred to the rain-maker's evil prophecy--and he thought I was so
happy that I would never have wished to leave the tribe.
In return to this really kind speech, I warmly acknowledged the extreme
kindness and hospitality which had been shown me, and confessed that I
had not expected it, adding how great would be my pride when in England,
if he would permit me to return there, to recount to my countrymen his
noble behaviour to a poor shipwrecked sailor.