After leaving Doorn Draai they trekked on through the Umsinga district,
and, turning off the main road at Helpmakaar on the Biggarsberg Heights,
descended to Rorke's Drift. And it was while making their way down to
that now historical point that Gerard began to realise what a waggon
could do; what an incredible amount of hard knocking about it could
stand; for the track seemed a mere succession of ruts and boulders, and
as the huge vehicles went creaking and grinding over this, they seemed
literally to twist and writhe, until it looked as though each fresh bump
must shatter the whole fabric into a thousand crashing fragments. Once,
but for his promptitude, the waggon of which Gerard was in charge would
infallibly have overturned. However, they reached the drift without
accident, and crossed the next day into the Zulu country.
At first Gerard could hardly realise that he was no longer under the
British flag. This side of the Buffalo river presented no appreciable
difference to the side they had just left. A line of precipitous hills
rose a few miles in front, and to the eastward a great lion-shaped crag,
the now ill-famed Isandhlwana. But few Zulus had come to the waggons,
and they struck him as wearing no different aspect to the natives on the
Natal side, nor, by-the-by, did they seem in any way keen upon trading.
We fear it may hardly be denied that the rose-coloured spectacles
through which Gerard had first looked upon the trip and its prospects
had undergone some slight dimness, and for this May Kingsland's blue
eyes were wholly responsible. For be it remembered he was very young,
and the consciousness that a long time--a whole year, perhaps--must
elapse before he should see her again, cast something of a gloom upon
his spirits. Good-natured John Dawes saw through the change in his
young companion's lightheartedness, and laughed dryly to himself.
Gerard would soon find the right cure for that sort of complaint, he
said, when the real business of the trip should begin.
One morning a party of half a dozen young Zulus, driving an ox, came up
to them as they sat outspanned. The one who seemed to be the leader was
a tall, straight, well-built fellow, with a pleasing intelligent
countenance. He, like the rest, was unringed, but held his head high in
the air, as though he were somebody. All carried assegais and shields.
The young leader and two of the others strode up to where Gerard was
sitting, and uttering the usual form of greeting, "_Saku bona_,"
squatted down on the grass before him.
Now, it happened that Dawes was away, having ridden off to some kraals a
few miles distant. Gerard, thus thrown upon his own resources, began to
feel something of the burden of responsibility as he returned their
greeting and waited for them to speak next. But the leader, stretching
forth his hand, said--
"Give me that."
Gerard was cleaning a gun at the time, the double-barrelled one, rifle
and shot. The Zulu's remark had come so quick, accompanied by a
half-move forward, as though he might be going to seize the weapon, that
Gerard instinctively tightened his grasp on it.
"Who are you?" he said, looking the other in the eyes.
"Nkumbi-ka-zulu, son of Sirayo, the king's _induna_," replied the youth,
with a haughty toss of the head, denoting surprise that anybody should
require to be informed of his identity. "Give me the gun; I want to
look at it," he continued, again stretching forth his hand.
Gerard realised the delicacy of the situation. There was a greedy
sparkle in the young Zulu's eye as it lighted upon the weapon, which
caused him to feel anything but sure that it would be returned to him
again. On the other hand, Dawes, he remembered, had a poor opinion of
Sirayo and his clan, and he did not want to offend the chief's son, if
he could help it. His command of the language beginning to fail him, he
summoned Sintoba to the rescue.
"Ask him if, he wants to trade, because, if so, the _Baas_ [Master] will
be back soon. Here is some snuff for him, meanwhile."
Nkumbi-ka-zulu condescended to accept the snuff, then, through the
driver, he explained that his father had sent the black ox as a present
to "Jandosi"--for such was John Dawes's name among the natives, being of
course a corruption of his own--and he, the speaker, had come to do a
little trade on his own account. First of all, he wanted that gun, and
as many cartridges as he could have. What was the price?
Gerard replied that the gun was not for sale. It was wanted to shoot
buck and birds during their trip further up-country.
"_Au_!" exclaimed Nkumbi-ka-zulu. "You are so near the border, you can
easily send back for another gun. I will give five oxen for it. Ten,
then," he added, as Gerard shook his head in dissent. Still Gerard
refused.
"_Hau_! Does he want all the Zulu country?" muttered the others,
forgetting good manners in their impatience and eagerness to possess the
weapon, and for this, Sintoba, who was of Zulu descent and a ringed man
at that, rebuked them sternly.
"Since when has the son of a chief learnt to talk with the loud tongue
and windbag swagger of the _Amabuna_?" [Boers] he said. "Have you come
here to trade or to play the fool?"
"_Hau_, listen to the Kafula!" cried the young Zulus, springing to their
feet and rattling their assegais threateningly. "Since when is the son
of a chief to be reviled by a Kafula, who is doing dog at the heels of a
travelling white man?"
Gerard, who by this time could understand a great deal more than he
could speak, looked apprehensively at Sintoba, expecting an immediate
outbreak. But to his surprise the man merely uttered a disdainful
click, and deliberately turned his broad back upon the exasperated
Zulus. He almost expected to see it transfixed with their assegais, and
stood ready to brain with his clubbed gun, for he had no cartridges
handy, the first who should make an aggressive move. But no such move
was made.
"I return," said Nkumbi-ka-zulu, darting forth his hand, with a
malevolent look directed especially upon Gerard, "I return to my father
to carry word that Jandosi rejects his present, and has left a Kafula
with his waggons, and a white _umfane_ [boy] to revile the son of a
chief." And turning, the whole party walked rapidly away, driving the
ox before them.
When they had gone a little distance, they began staging an improvised
strophe the burden of whose veiled insolence took in the white race in
general, and the last specimen of it the singers had seen in particular,
and thus bawling, they eventually receded from sight.
Gerard was terribly put about by this occurrence, and was disposed to
blame himself bitterly. Surely he had been over cautions, and had
brought about this hostile termination by his own awkwardness and
stupidity. But to his inexpressible relief John Dawes, to whom on his
return he narrated the whole affair, was not at all of this opinion.
"It couldn't have been helped," the latter declared. "If I had been
here the result would likely have been the same, for they're cheeky
young dogs those sons of Sirayo, and the old man himself is a
thorough-paced old sweep. If you made any mistake at all, it was a
mistake on the right side--that of firmness--and I'm not sure you made
any."
Which dictum lifted a weight from Gerard's mind.
"I'm only afraid they'll play us some trick," he said. "Hadn't we
better get away from here as soon as possible?"
"N-no. They might construe that into an act of running away. We'll
just trek on a few miles further, and see what turns up, but I don't
mind telling you I hardly like the look of things. The people are very
unsettled, thanks to this disputed boundary question, and the badgering
of the Natal Government. They are sulky and sullen, and flatly refuse
to trade. I think we'll get away north pretty soon."
That evening an incident occurred which, taken in conjunction with the
events of the day, looked ominous. The "boy" who was sent to bring in
the two horses, which were turned loose to graze, returned with only
one; the other he could not find. He had hunted for it high and low,
but without result.
By this time the two horses had become so accustomed to the waggons that
they would never stray far, and often return of their own accord;
consequently, it was not thought worthwhile even to knee-halter them.
Now, however, the one which the "boy" had brought back had been found
much further afield than was usual, and of the other there was no trace.
And the missing steed was Gerard's mouse-coloured Basuto pony.
Saddling up the horse that remained and giving orders where the waggons
were to outspan, Dawes cantered away into the _veldt_. He returned in
two hours. He had lighted upon the spoor, which led in the contrary
direction from that which might have been expected, for it led in the
direction of the Blood River, and therefore right away from Sirayo's and
out of the Zulu country, instead of farther into the same; and then
darkness had baffled further investigation. Nevertheless, he would
wager longish odds, he declared, that the missing quadruped would spend
that night not a mile distant from Sirayo's kraal.
"It's a most infernal place, Ridgeley," he said gloomily. "It's
overhung by a big _krantz_, which is a pretty good look-out post, and
surrounded by holes and caves you could stow anything away in. I don't
know how we are going to get Mouse back again short of paying through
the nose for him. I must sleep on it and think out some plan. That
young brute, Nkumbi! I feel quite murderous--as if I could shoot him on
sight."
In view of the late occurrence, Sintoba received instructions to keep
watch a part of the night, while Dawes himself took the remainder, not
that he thought it at all probable that any attempt at further
depredations would be made, still it was best to be on the safe side.
And in fact no further attempt was made, and the night in its calm and
starry beauty, went by undisturbed.
The place where the waggons were outspanned was open and grassy. Around
stretched the wide and rolling _veldt_; here a conical hillock rising
abruptly from the plain, there the precipitous line of a range of
mountains. About half a mile from the site of the outspan ran a
_spruit_ or watercourse, the bed of which, deep and yawning, now held
but a tiny thread of water, trickling over its sandy bottom. The banks
of this _spruit_ were thickly studded with bush, and out of them
branched several deep _dongas_ or rifts worn out of the soil by the
action of the water.
It was a hot morning. The sun blazed fiercely from the cloudless sky,
and from the ground there arose a shimmer of heat. Away on the plain
the two spans of oxen were dotted about grazing, in charge of one of the
leaders, whose dark form could be seen, a mere speck, squatting among
the grass. In the shade of one of the waggons, Dawes and Gerard sat,
finishing their breakfast, while at a fire some fifty yards off, the
natives were busy preparing theirs, stirring the contents of the
three-legged pot, and keeping up a continual hum of conversation the
while.
"No, I don't like the look of things at all," repeated Dawes, beginning
to fill his pipe. "It is some days now since we crossed into the Zulu
country, and the people hardly come near us. It looks as if all this
talk about a war was going to lead to something. I'm afraid they are
turning ugly about that boundary question. I meant to have trekked
north on the west side of the Blood River, and taken this part of the
country on our way back, if we had anything left to trade that is, but
with all these reported ructions between the Zulus and Boers in the
disputed territory, I reckon we'd be quieter and safer in Zululand
proper."
"How ever will they settle the claim?" said Gerard.
"Heaven only knows. Here we have just annexed the Transvaal, and got
nothing for our pains but a bankrupt State whose people hate us, and a
lot of awkward liabilities, and not the least awkward is this disputed
boundary. If we give it over to the Dutch, Cetywayo is sure to make war
on them, and therein comes the fun of our new liability. We shall have
to protect them, they being now British subjects, and when we have
squashed the Zulus, the Boers will turn on us. If, on the other hand,
we give it over to the Zulus, we are giving away half the district of
Utrecht, and turning out a lot of people who have been living there for
years under what they thought good and sound title from their own
government, which doesn't seem right either. And any middle course will
please neither party, and be worse than useless."
"I suppose, if the truth were known, the Transvaal claim is actually a
fraud?"
"I believe it is. They claim that Mpande ceded them the land. Now I
don't believe for a moment the old king would have been such a fool as
to do anything of the kind, and even if he had been inclined to for the
sake of peace, Cetywayo, who practically held the reins then, would
never have let him. Well, if that Commission don't sit mighty soon,
it'll be no good for it to sit at all, for there'll be wigs on the green
long before."
"I wonder if we shall ever see poor Mouse again," said Gerard.
A sound of deep-toned voices and the rattle of assegai hafts caused both
to turn. Three Zulus were approaching rapidly. Striding up to the
waggons they halted, and gazing fixedly at the two white men, they gave
the usual greeting, "_Saku bona_"--and dropped into a squatting posture.
They were fine specimens of humanity, tall and straight. One was a
_kehla_, but the other two were unringed. For clothing they wore
nothing but the inevitable _mutya_. Each was fully armed with large
war-shield, knobkerrie, and several murderous looking assegais.
The first greeting over, Gerard asked to look at some of these. With a
dry smile one of the warriors handed over his weapons, but to a
suggestion that he should trade one or two of them he returned a most
emphatic refusal.
"What is the news?" asked Dawes, having distributed some snuff.
"News!" replied the ringed man. "_Ou_! there is none."
"Do men travel in such haste to deliver no news?" pursued Dawes, with a
meaning glance at the heaving chests and perspiring bodies of the
messengers, for such he was sure they were. "But never mind. It is no
affair of mine. Yet, do you seek the kraal of the chief, Sirayo? If
you do, you might carry my `word' to him."
The man, after a shade of hesitation, answered that Sirayo's kraal
happened to be their destination. He would carry the "word" of the
white trader.
"Tell him then I have lost a horse. If the chief has it found and
returned to me, I will send him a bottle of _tywala_ [Note 1], a new
green blanket, and this much _gwai_ [tobacco], measuring a length of
about a yard. I will further send him a long sheath-knife."
"We hear your words, _Umlungu_. They shall be spoken into the ears of
the chief. Now we must resume our road, _Hlala-ni-gahle_!"
With which sonorous farewell the Zulus turned and strode away across the
_veldt_ at the same quick and hurried pace as before.
"Just as I told you, Ridgeley," said Dawes, lighting his pipe with
characteristic calmness. "We shall have to pay some sort of blackmail.
Lucky if we get Mouse back at all."
They remained outspanned all day on the same spot. About an hour before
sundown two Zulus were seen approaching. They made their appearance
suddenly and at no great distance, emerging from the line of scrub which
bordered upon the water _spruit_.
"_Hau_!" exclaimed Sintoba. "It is Nkumbi-ka-zulu."
The chief's son, with his companion, drew near, and greeted those around
the waggon in an easy, offhand fashion, as though he were quite willing
to forgive and forget any little unpleasantness of the day before. His
father, he said, had received Jandosi's message, and had sent him at
once and in all haste to talk about it. He thought the horse might be
found, but what Jandosi offered was not quite enough. There were few
people at his father's kraal. Sirayo could not get them to turn out for
so little as the promised reward would amount to when divided among the
searchers. Now Sirayo's "word" was this. If Jandosi would offer, say
six bottles of _tywala_--the white _tywala_ that is drunk out of square
bottles--to be distributed among the people, together with the _gwai_
and the other things, and a gun and some cartridges for the chief
himself, something might be done; in fact, the horse was pretty sure to
be found. But the gun was what the chief desired most; and in fact the
gun he must have, hinted Nkumbi-ka-zulu, with a grin of hardly concealed
triumph.
The barefaced impudence, the open rascality of the demand, would have
made the blood boil in the veins of any less even-tempered man than John
Dawes. The latter, however, took it quite coolly. But all the while he
was thinking out some plan whereby he might recover possession of the
horse, and at the same time turn the tables on the rascally old chief
and his scamp of a son. To this end, and with a view to gaining time,
he engaged the latter in a protracted haggle, and mixed some gin and
water for his refreshment. To his surprise, however, Nkumbi-ka-zulu
refused the proffered _tywala_--saying he did not like it. The other
Zulu, however, less particular, drained the pannikin to the very last
drop, and asked for more.
Would not some knives do instead of the gun? asked Dawes; or a coloured
umbrella, anything in fact? The gun was almost a necessary of life, and
he could not part with it. He could get another horse from the Boers on
the Transvaal border, but not another gun. But Nkumbi-ka-zulu was firm.
His father must have a gun, he said. There was nothing else that would
be acceptable.
Now while this haggle was in progress one of the spans of oxen, which
had been out grazing in charge of the leader of Gerard's waggon, was
being driven leisurely in. Wondering why half the oxen should thus be
left behind, Gerard drew off from the talkers, whom he understood but
imperfectly, and turned to meet the "boy" in order to learn the reason.
But the latter, without seeming to notice his presence, waited until he
was quite near, and going behind the animals, so as to be momentarily
screened from the group at the waggons, said in a low tone--
"_I hashe--La-pa_." ["The horse--over there."]
The words--the quick side glance towards the line of bush--were
sufficient. Gerard's pulses tingled with excitement, but he refrained
from any further questioning. With an effort preserving his
self-possession, he strolled leisurely back to the waggon. He took in
the situation, and his coolness and promptitude at once suggested a
plan.
The remainder of the oxen were in almost the contrary direction to that
indicated by the native as being the hiding-place of the stolen horse.
Shading his eyes to look at them, he said to Dawes--speaking slowly, and
with rather a tired drawl--
"I think I'll ride out and bring in the oxen. When I'm halfway there, I
shall turn and bring in something else. Don't let these two chaps stir
from here till I come back. Hold them here at any price."
Even the quick observant senses of the two Zulus were baffled by the
slow carelessness of the tone. They half started as they saw him fling
the saddle on the remaining horse, and ride off; but, noting the
direction he took, their suspicions were quite lulled. They dropped
back into their easy, good-humoured, half-impudent tone and attitude.
"Well, Jandosi, what do you say?" said the chief's son. "The sun is
nearly down and I must return to my father. Is he to have the gun?"
"I suppose there is no help for it," replied Dawes. "After all, I can
get another gun. But that horse--he is a good horse. Wait, I will see
which of the two guns I will give." And he climbed into the
waggon-tent.
"That is the one, Jandosi. The double-barrel. That is the one!" cried
Nkumbi-ka-Zulu, half starting to his feet as Dawes reappeared. But he
dropped again into his squatting position, with marvellous celerity and
a dismayed ejaculation.
This change was brought about by one quick, stern, peremptory word--that
and the perception that both barrels were covering him full and
point-blank. And behind those barrels shone a pair of steel grey eyes,
which the chief's son knew to go with the coolest brain and steadiest
hand on the whole Zulu border.
"Stir a finger, Nkumbi, and you are a dead man!" continued Dawes. "The
first of you who moves is dead that moment!"
"_Whau_!" cried both Zulus, their eyes starting from their heads. But
they made no attempt to move, for they knew this white man to be
absolutely a man of his word. For a few minutes this singular group
remained thus immovable. The cool, resolute white man, and the two
savages staring in petrified consternation into the month of the deadly
weapon that threatened them. Then, not even the certainty of a swift
death could avail to repress the sudden start and half-stifled cry of
rage and mortification which escaped them. For Gerard, having covered
about half the distance towards the outlying span of oxen had now
suddenly turned and was riding back at full gallop towards the line of
bush.
"Don't move--don't move!" repeated Dawes, and the ominous flash in his
eyes was sufficient. Immovable as statues, the two Zulus squatted.
Then a sound of distant neighing was heard, and in a few minutes Gerard
was seen to emerge from the bushes, leading a second horse. It was the
missing Mouse.
Still Dawes did not alter his position, nor did he suffer his prisoners
to. He heard his young companion arrive and tie up the horses. He
heard him climb into the waggon; then, when he saw him at his side armed
with the other gun, he spoke.
"Since when have the Zulu people become thieves, and the son of a chief
a common _ishinga_! [rascal] I have always boasted that in the Zulu
country my property was safer than even among my own people, but I can
do so no more, since my horse was stolen by the son of a chief, and his
father connived at the theft." The tone, the words, bitter and
scathing, seemed to sting them like a lash.
"You have found your horse, not we, Jandosi, that is all," retorted
Nkumbi-ka-zulu with a scowl of sullen hate. "How did we know he was
there any more than you did yourself? You have found your horse--be
content."
"I promised your father certain things, Nkumbi, if he found the horse.
He has _sent it back_ and I will keep my word. But he deserves to
receive nothing at all; nor will I ever again trade in his district."
Then he lowered his piece and instructed Gerard to fetch out the
articles agreed upon. In silence the Zulus received them. Rage and
shame was depicted on their countenances, and their efforts to laugh off
the situation were a dead failure. Among the Bantu race nothing is more
disconcerting than to be caught lying, and these two scions of it felt
extremely foolish accordingly.
"_Whau_! Jandosi," mocked Nkumbi-ka-zulu. "We are only two, armed with
spears and kerries. You have fire-weapons, and four Amakafula. Yet we
fear you not. Come forth from your waggons, you alone. Leave the
fire-weapons behind and bring sticks, I will meet you hand to hand--man
to man--and we will fight it out. I who am only a boy."
But of this valiant offer John Dawes, who was giving orders to inspan,
took no immediate notice. At length he said--
"You will get quite as much fighting as you can well take care of,
Nkumbi-ka-zulu, if you go on a little longer on your present tack. And,
mark me, anybody who tries to interfere with me will get more than
enough. Farewell to you. _Trek_!"
This last to the drivers. The whips cracked, the drivers yelled, and
the waggons rolled ponderously forward. The two Zulus were left
standing there a picture of mortification and disgust.
"You've got to be firm with these chaps, Ridgeley, once you do have a
difference with them," said Dawes, in his ordinarily self-possessed and
careless tone. "Well, it's lucky we've got Mouse back again so cheap.
That was really an uncommonly smart idea of yours, and a well-carried
out one."
They trekked on the best part of the night, Gerard and Dawes thoroughly
armed. Each rode on horseback, keeping a careful watch lest the
treachery of the now exasperated chief should prompt some aggression
under cover of night; but none took place. In the morning they beheld
two large bodies of Zulus in the distance, marching to the
north-westward, and could distinguish the glint of spears, and the echo
of their marching song. But on whatever errand these _impis_ were
bound, they evinced no desire to molest the trekkers, or even to
investigate nearer; in fact, their object seemed to be rather to avoid
these latter.
"There's trouble brewing," said Dawes, with a grave shake of the head as
he watched the _impis_ disappearing over a distant ridge. "Those chaps
are bound for the disputed territory, and if they fall foul of the Boers
it'll start the war going in fine style. I don't like the look of
things at all. The sooner we get into Swaziland the better. The Zulu
country's just a trifle too disturbed."
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Note 1. This word, which properly applies to native beer, is used for
any intoxicating liquor. In this instance it would mean spirits.