Having parted with his young companion, John Dawes rode on, outwardly
cool and unconcerned, though in effect his mind misgave him. For he
knew that in all human probability he had but a few minutes more to
live. The critical moment would be that of the discovery of Gerard's
defection, and if he and his party escaped massacre in the outburst of
fury which was sure to follow, why their escape would smack of the
nature of a miracle about as much as anything he had ever known in his
life.
Fortune favoured him, favoured them both, so far. In their impatience
to get back to the scene of the revels, the messengers had increased the
distance between themselves and the horsemen, and when Gerard had made
his dash for it, the shouting and stamping of the wild war-dance had so
far deadened all other sounds that the receding of his horse's hoofs
passed unnoticed by the escort, to whose ears, in fact, during the
general tumult, the tread of one horse made as much noise as that of
two.
Not until he entered the kraal did they make the discovery that he was
alone, and even then, to a quick suspicious query as to what had become
of his companion, Dawes's reply that he supposed the latter had gone
back to the waggons for something he had forgotten, suggested no
distrust. These white men had been their prisoners for weeks, they
thought, and the guard on the ridge was as strong to-night as ever.
Familiar as he was with such sights, the appearance of the Igazipuza
kraal as he rode into it that night, struck John Dawes as about the most
wild and terrific aspect of savagery unchecked as he had ever beheld.
The great open space of its inner circle was crowded with figures.
Equidistant from each other, far enough from the palisade to be safe
from accident, and yet sufficiently at the side to be out of the way of
the dancers, four huge fires were burning. Facing each other in two
great crescents, fully armed with shield and assegai, knobkerrie and
battle-axe, their leaders standing out a little in advance of the lines,
the warriors stood, and the red gushing flames of the great fires,
lighting up the wild fantastically arranged figures with a truly
demoniacal glare, imparted to these raving, howling human wolves an
aspect of indescribable ferocity. Starting, softly at first, by the
leaders of the chorus, the fierce thrilling chant of the war-song, taken
up by the ranks, gathered in strength with every repetition, soon rising
to a perfect roar of deep chest notes as the savages, rattling their
shields and weapons, threw themselves into the excitement of the thing,
beating time with the rhythmic thunder of their feet as the tread of one
man, turning themselves hither and thither, muscles quivering, eyeballs
rolling in the fierce frenzy of the stimulating exercise. The while the
women, squatted around against the palisade, were keeping up a high,
shrill accompaniment to the deep-throated roar of the warriors, but
never for a moment did that fierce, wild thrilling chant lose its rhythm
or degenerate into discord.
Ingonyama, with four or five _indunas_ stood at the upper end of the
kraal overlooking the ceremonies. The chief was arrayed in a war-shirt
of flowing hair. Over this he wore the magnificent lion's skin
purchased from Dawes. It was arranged in such wise that the grinning
open jaws crowned him as a head-dress, which, with the sweeping black
mane falling around his shoulders, and the skin and tail, trailing far
behind him on the ground, gave him a most formidable and ferocious
appearance, as of course he intended it should. In his hand he held a
short-handled, heavy battle-axe, and between his eyes was painted the
small red disk.
He took no notice of Dawes, as the latter rode up and dismounted.
Indeed his attention was occupied with other matters, for the dance had
ceased, and the warriors, forming up into companies, were marching up to
where he was seated with his attendants. Then halting before their
chief they began to sing, in long-drawn recitative, a series of strophes
in which he was hailed by every extravagant title, and endowed with
every attribute of wisdom and valour and ferocity. This being ended,
shields and weapons were raised aloft, and the companies, wheeling,
filed back into the central place, and falling into their crescent
formation took up the war-dance again with unabated vigour.
Ingonyama, not ill-pleased that his white "guest" should witness this
testimony to his power and influence, sank back into a sitting posture,
and motioned to the latter to follow his example. But Dawes pretended
not to notice the invitation, and remained standing. He did notice,
however, the shield-bearer holding the great white shield behind the
chief, which instance of affectation of royal state he stored up for
future use.
"Greeting, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, graciously, for by this time the
native corruption of the trader's name had leaked out through his
servants, and by it he was now known to all. "Where is your brother?"
meaning Gerard.
"Where?" repeated Dawes, taming to look round, as it were with
indifferent surprise. "He should be here, though. He most have
returned to the waggons for something. Still, he should be here."
It happened that just at that moment the chant of the dancing song had
sunk rather low. Borne upon the still night air, faint and distant,
there floated to the ears of those who were not taking part in the
revelry, a long-drawn roar.
"_Igazi--pu_--_za_."
"_Hau_!" exclaimed Ingonyama, with a start, listening intently.
Again from the far hillside came the wild slogan. And now the _indunas_
echoed the astonishment of their chief. The guard on the ridge was
aroused.
All manner of expressions flitted across Ingonyama's face--rage,
mortification, intense puzzlement. The cry should have rung out loud
and clear, considering the short distance which lay between the kraal
and the ridge, whereas it sounded miles and miles away. The real fact,
however, being that the first alarm was completely drowned by the noise
and uproar of the war-dance, and the song in honour of the chief, and by
this time the guards were far enough away in pursuit of Gerard. John
Dawes felt every nerve thrill within him. The critical moment had
arrived.
"Thou liest, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, and a look of stern and deadly
meaning came over his features, grim and ferocious, scowling beneath the
great jaws of the lion. "Thou liest, Jandosi. Thy brother has fled;
_attempted_ to flee, rather," he added significantly; "for no man ever
quitted the kraal of the Igazipuza without bidding farewell to its
chief."
"Am I responsible for what he has done?" answered Dawes, coolly. "He is
young, remember, and young blood is restless blood. Perchance he was
tired of sitting still for ever."
"Am I a child--are these children, Jandosi, that you fill up our ears
with such tales as this?" said the chief sternly. "Where is your
brother?"
"Am I an owl--am I a bat, Ingonyama, that you would strain my eyes into
seeing through the dark? If, as you say, my brother has fled, how then
can I tell where he is at this moment? Rather should the question come
from me to yourself, whom men name as an _Isanusi_ [witch-doctor, or
seer] of renown."
"_Hau_!" burst from the councillors in wild amaze at the audacity of
this white man.
"Your eyes?" echoed Ingonyama, and his voice came low and trembling with
suppressed fury. "Your eyes, Jandosi? _Ha_! You shall not indeed
_strain_ your eyes seeing through the dark, _for I will make them dark
for ever_."
The fell meaning of the tone and words was plain to John Dawes. The
crisis had come.
"Move not," he returned quickly, his decisive ringing tone arresting as
by magic the signal which the chief was about to make. "Before that
happens we will sit in darkness together. Stir but a finger, Ingonyama,
and the tribe Igazipuzi may proceed to the election of a new chief."
With the muzzle of a revolver pointing full at his breast, the butt in
the hand of a man whose daring and resolution was known to all, no
wonder Ingonyama should sit rigid and paralysed. His councillors shared
his dazed immovability. What marvellous thing was to happen next, they
thought?
Dawes, who was standing beside his horse, prepared for the first hostile
move, had not raised his arm. He had merely brought the weapon to bear
after the method known as "firing from the hip." To all outward
appearance he was merely conversing rather animatedly with the chief.
The latter stared at him as though he could hardly believe his senses.
But there was the little round ring, pointing full upon his breast from
barely six yards off. The merest pressure of a finger, and it would let
out his life as he sat.
"You have treated us ill, Ingonyama," went on Dawes, sternly. "We have
no quarrel with the people of the Zulu; on the contrary, we are at
peace. Yet you have kept us here against our will, and treated us as
enemies. In two days `my tongue' speaks at Undini, in the ears of the
Great Great One, by whose light _you_ live."
This reference to the king, by one of his favourite titles, had a
strange effect upon this chief, whom the speaker by this time more than
half suspected of being a rebellious and plotting vassal. For an
instant it seemed that the latter's uncontrollable rage would triumph
over his fear of death. But he only said, with a sneer--
"Not so, Jandosi. `Your tongue,' however long, will be brought back
here. Long before the end of two days it will have ceased to speak for
ever. When a tongue is too long, we cut it. _Ha_! We have a Tooth
here which can bite it short. Your `tongue' shall be bitten on the
point of The Tooth, Jandosi. _Ha_!"
Which being rendered out of the vernacular of "dark" talking, dear to
the South African native, into plain English, meant that in the chief's
opinion Gerard would assuredly be recaptured, and in that event would be
adjudged to the hideous fate of the wretch whose body he had found
impaled on the summit of The Tooth.
"I think not, Ingonyama. I think my `tongue' will speak at Undini in
words that will move the Lion of the Zulu to wrath. It may be that it
will speak of another Lion, who sits beneath the white shield as a king,
who within the territory of the great king levies war upon and treats as
enemies the friends of the Lion of the Zulu. Yet it is not too late.
You have but to give the word, now this night, that I and mine may
depart unmolested, and I can draw back my `tongue' before it reaches as
far as Undini, for I am a peaceable trader, and have no wish to mix
myself up in anybody's quarrels."
A deep-chested gasp of wonder escaped his listeners.
"You are a bold man, Jandosi," exclaimed the chief.
"My life has its value, but the life of the chief of the Igazipuza has a
far greater one. And this I hold in my hand."
Another astonished gasp escaped the hearers. This statement was only
too true. Here, in the heart of the Igazipuza kraal--his ferocious
warriors going through their appalling war-dance, with the aspect of
fiends let loose, but a few paces distant--Ingonyama in his heart of
hearts quailed before this solitary white man dictating terms. Again
had a policy of boldness succeeded.
"Return to your waggons, Jandosi," said the chief at length. "I would
think this matter over. You shall know my answer in the morning."
Most men would have pressed for a reply there and then, but John Dawes
was nothing if not judicious. He thoroughly understood the policy of
providing a broad bridge for a fleeing foe. His object was gained, viz.
to secure himself at the moment of the popular outburst, and he had
nearly succeeded.
"Now are the counsels of good sense about to triumph," he replied.
"Take till the morning to consider, even then may my `tongue' be
recalled. And now, send one of these _indunas_ to go with me to the
waggons and to remain the night, for your people are turbulent and rude
at times, Ingonyama, and I would avoid trouble with them."
The chief thought a moment, then uttered a word or two. One of the
councillors stood up.
"Good," said Dawes. "Fare thee well, O wearer of the lion's skin.
Between the eyes was the life let out--may that never be the lot of its
wearer, O chief of the Igazipuza."
He knew that Ingonyama was for the time being cowed, and that it was
incumbent upon him to return to his waggons before the reaction should
set in. Yet as he rode at a foot-pace out of the kraal, with the
_induna_ walking beside him, as he passed behind the ranks of excited
barbarians almost within touching distance, he honestly expected every
moment to be his last. A word from the chief, a cry, a signal, and that
armed mass would fall upon him in a moment and hack him into a thousand
pieces. Still, for some unaccountable reason, the "word" remained
unspoken, the signal was not given. It might be that Ingonyama had
further and more fell designs; it might be that he was acting in good
faith, anyhow Dawes reached his waggons unmolested.
But he had ample reason to congratulate himself in securing the presence
of the _induna_--or hostage as the latter really was--for by-and-by, as
the warriors discovered the escape of Gerard, they came surging around
the waggons in a wild, clamourous, threatening crowd. Even then, in the
presence of one of the most trusted councillors of the chief, a massacre
seemed imminent, but eventually they drew off.
Throughout that night as Dawes lay, feigning sleep but never more fully
awake in his life, he was wondering how his young companion had fared.
So far, the latter must have effected his escape, inasmuch as he had not
been brought back. Whether he would ultimately succeed depended largely
on the vigour and persistency wherewith the Igazipuza should prosecute
the pursuit.
But that he himself was the right man to remain behind, John Dawes was
now more than ever convinced. Where would Gerard have been, for
instance, under the critical circumstances of that night? The only
thing to do now was to await with what patience he might the result of
his comrade's enterprise.