MOZELKATSE.

Thanks to a vigorous constitution and to temperate habits, wounds which

might have been troublesome under a warm climate soon closed, and though

for days the torn shoulder gave a good deal of pain, yet it rapidly

healed. Game was plentiful, and the koodoos easily approached, so that

Luji and the Kaffir Noti kept the camp provisioned during the week the

tent remained pitched on the banks of the Limpolulo until a runner from

Mozelkatse arrived, summoning the travellers to meet him at

Zoutpansburgh, then a native kraal of some importance, about twenty

miles to the northward and westward, on a spur of the Drakenburgh range.

The life was a pleasant one. The breakfast round the remains of the

camp fire. The loud shouts of the men as they chased and harnessed the

lazy oxen. The cracking of the long whip as the lumbering waggon moved

off. The mount and the gallop over the plain, with herds of deer flying

before the hunters. The dinner under some spreading tree, the house on

wheels, oxen and men around it. The tales told round the blaze, as the

difficulties of the day were discussed, and those of the morrow

canvassed; and then the sound sleep so well earned by fatigue. The

evening of the seventh day after the affair with the lioness, the party

outspanned at the foot of the mountain range, close to the native kraal

Zoutpansburgh, the morrow being fixed by Mozelkatse for the audience.

The morning came, bright, warm, and glorious, as usual, and the little

camp was early astir.

The interview was an important one. The name of Mozelkatse was known

all through the land, and his power was great. So implicitly did his

people believe in him, that they actually asserted that it was he who

had made the moon and the sun, and it was utterly useless to attempt to

proceed without his authority. Captain Hughes had been furnished by his

relative with a letter to this potentate, and both he and the missionary

had resolved that unless the reply given was encouraging they would not

go on. It was, therefore, not without some anxiety as to the result,

that orders were given to all the men to dress themselves out in any

little finery they possessed, an English Union Jack was mounted on a

lance, and, the one dressed in the time-stained uniform of the gallant

150th Regiment, the other in his priestly robes, took their way,

followed by their men, to the enclosure where the king was to receive

them, deeming themselves lucky in that the hunting party had led the

chief in their direction to this outlying village, and so spared them a

long journey to his capital. They saw but few of Mozelkatse's personal

guards, most of the motley tribe through which they took their way,

preceded by Luji as standard-bearer, being natives belonging to the

outlying tribe, and as they gained the enclosure, which was at the same

time council chamber and reception hall, the gathering seemed a numerous

one, for there were upwards of a hundred braves then present, and the

number was rapidly increasing. A covering of skins was fastened round

the waist of each, and broad rings of copper were worn round the arms

and ankles of the chiefs. A plume of feathers adorned the heads of the

principal men, while, hanging behind, somewhat after the fashion of a

Hungarian pelisse, each warrior wore a panther or other similar skin.

The array of dusky savages looked imposing enough, and all were well

armed. The left hand supported a shield of tanned buffalo hide,

surmounted with plumes of ostrich feathers. The same hand grasped a

long spear, while the right firmly held a short stout stick with a heavy

knob. Round the neck was a necklace, from which hung a dagger, while

the short beard, grizzly black moustache, and clean cut limbs, made

Mozelkatse's braves look formidable as they closed in, forming a circle

round the visitors, whose flag waved from the end of an assegai planted

in the centre of the circle. The enclosure itself was formed of the

branches of the mimosa, strongly and tightly interlaced, and from the

height on which it stood, a magnificent view of the plain below, watered

by the Limpopo, was obtained. All round were situated the huts of the

tribe, looking like beehives, and near each a little walled space,

wherein was kept their wealth, in the shape of oxen. No women were

permitted to enter the enclosure; and hardly were the new comers arrived

when Mozelkatse stalked into the ring. His hut was the only one opening

on the enclosure, and a murmur of applause ran through the ranks of his

braves as he made his appearance.

In compliment, perhaps, to the tribe, he wore nearly the same dress.

Slowly seating himself on a rudely chiselled stone, Mozelkatse glanced

around his warriors proudly, without noticing his visitors. He was a

man of large size, apparently in the full vigour of his age, and of

great muscular development, the colour of his skin alone detracting from

his appearance.

There was an air of thought and command in his face, and, unlike his

warriors, his hair was thrown back, his broad forehead being encircled

with a fillet of ostrich feathers, terminating in a single plume hanging

behind.

Heavy rings of highly-polished copper spanned the thick part of the

arms, and lighter ones the wrist. The neck was adorned with a necklace,

partly formed of bits of gold strung together, from which depended a

dagger, and over the broad, hairy, black breast, floated one magnificent

ostrich plume. A tawny lion skin was thrown over the stone on which he

sat, while a robe of panther skins hung from his waist.

His right hand held the same kind of short stick carried by the

warriors, while the left rested on his naked knee. Only that the

forehead was rather low, and the mouth too large, Mozelkatse might have

passed muster as a splendid specimen of coloured humanity.

A chief named Masheesh now stepped forward and presented the soldier and

the missionary to the king, briefly explaining in his own tongue the

object which led the strangers to the country. The missionary next

addressed the king, asking his acceptance of the presents, which were

laid at his feet by Luji, wrapped in an ox hide, the principal object

being a handsome pair of pistols, silver-mounted, which seemed to please

Mozelkatse. Bowing his head in token of acceptance, the king waved his

hand, and two braves stepping forward took up the hide and its contents,

conveying them into the king's hut.

Settling himself in his seat, Mozelkatse looked round the circle, and

all at once poured forth a torrent of words, which were those of welcome

to the white men who had come to see him, ending with a request that

they would settle among and trade with his people. The circle of black

warriors applauded, striking their shields with their spears, and as

their numbers had greatly increased, there not being less than two

hundred and fifty armed men in the enclosure, the applause was noisy

enough. As it died away, Wyzinski rose and stood before the chief, his

clear silvery voice ringing through the enclosure, "Some years since,"

said he, "I was travelling with my brethren far away on the banks of the

Limpopo. I saw much of the various nations around, and by chance met

with intelligent men of the tribe which calls Mozelkatse king."

The savage bent his head in token of acknowledgment of the compliment,

glancing round the circle of his braves proudly.

"I began," continued Wyzinski, "to speak their language, and as I did so

became aware of strange stories as to a spot far away towards the north,

where stone buildings exist. One of these I was told was as large as

Mozelkatse's kraal, having an opening about half its height, through

which they who desire to see the ruins must pass. My Matlokotlopo

brethren told also of strange figures cut in stone, and of curiously

carved birds also in stone. These houses must have once been the

dwellings of the white man, and the legends our fathers have taught tell

us of such white men, who came many thousand years since from the

regions of the rising sun, landing on these shores. To reach these

ruins, to prove that our fathers spoke the truth, is our object, and in

the name of our ancestors we ask thy protection, chief."

Drawing his robes round him, Wyzinski sat down, and for fully a minute

there was a dead silence.

"The broken huts exist," at length replied the king, "though none of us

have ever seen them, and none know what far-away tribe made them. To

reach them my white brethren must pass over the vast plains which lie

between the Limpopo and the Zambesi, which the foot of the white man has

never yet trod. The elephant and the lion abound there. The savage

moohoohoo breed undisturbed, and not less cruel tribes, to whom

Mozelkatse's name carries no terror, inhabit them. Let my white

brethren stay to hunt, and to trade with us. A party of my braves shall

seek the fallen huts and bring back the images."

The rattling sound of the rude applause was once more heard.

"No, chief," replied Wyzinski; "we are not traders. We have turned from

our road to ask your aid. Give it, and we shall succeed. The report

will go far and wide that through the protection of a great king our

fathers' truth has been manifested, and traders will follow in our

footsteps. Speed us on our journey, chief."

Mozelkatse did not reply, and for a few moments there was a deep

silence. It was broken in a sudden and startling manner. A little man,

almost a dwarf, deformed in person and fearfully ugly, leaped into the

circle. Executing a wild dance, which he accompanied with shrill

screams, he spun round, the warriors crouching down and applauding, not

as heretofore with their spears, but by beating on the hard baked ground

with their sticks, sometimes altogether, sometimes in an irregular

manner.

Stopping as suddenly as he had begun in his mad dance, the sorcerer, for

such he was, threw himself violently on the ground at Mozelkatse's feet,

breaking as he did so a necklace of bones which he wore round his neck.

For the first time the living circle of dusky braves gave way, and all

able to do so crowded round the sorcerer, who with fixed and straining

eyes was staring at the masses of bones lying here and there, from the

position of which the augury was to be drawn. Luckily for the

travellers, the omen was tolerably propitious, the seer pronouncing that

though there was danger in the path, the white chiefs should return in

safety.

The circle was again formed, and a long discussion ensued, in the course

of which several of the more noted chiefs joined in, and the result was

a mass of evidence as to the existence of ruins somewhere in the

neighbourhood of Manica, a country lying to the northward, well watered

by tributaries of the Zambesi, all the evidence being however merely

hearsay. Eventually the king's aid and protection were promised, and

Mozelkatse retired, two braves as he did so advancing, and taking from

their sheaths the long glittering knives, performed a curious dance

round the strangers, eventually cutting away the grass upon which they

had sat, and burying it in a hole under the stone which had served as a

throne. This being a ceremony always performed by the chief who wishes

to retain the friendship of his visitors, during their temporary

absence, was of good augury. The audience was at an end, the king

disappearing inside his hut, and the Union Jack being struck, the new

comers, escorted by a band of armed braves, singing a monotonous song,

and accompanying themselves with the regular but discordant noise of the

spears striking against the shields, marched off to the camp, where an

ox previously purchased was slaughtered, cut up, and distributed among

the braves, the absent but friendly sorcerer not being forgotten.

"A curious interview, Wyzinski and one I am not sorry to have got

through," observed Hughes, as the two were seated that evening, near the

camp fire.

"At all events, we may look upon the point as gained, and from this day

will date our search for the ruined cities of Zulu Land," replied

Wyzinski.

The night was dark, and the radius lit up by the blaze was of small

extent. Luji and his man had lit their fire under a huge boulder of

rock, which had rolled down apparently from the mountain range at whose

feet they were encamped. The Matlokotlopo fires could be seen twinkling

on the hill-top, and before them lay the plain, watered by the Limpopo,

whose sinuous course they had marked, running like a blue thread through

the land, from the rude council chamber of the tribe. From the boulder

round which the men were squatted came the noise of many tongues, among

which that of Luji played a prominent part; away on the plain the

jackals and hyenas were to be heard, and the night breeze came rustling

the leaves of the tree underneath which the two were talking by the

fire.

"How strange," said Hughes, breaking a long silence, "that a land so

beautifully situated and so temperate in its climate should be so

sparsely populated, and so utterly uncultivated!"

"It won't remain so long," replied the missionary. "Natal is a sugar

and coffee producing country, and that of the Zulus must follow. Both

possess the inestimable advantage of being perfectly healthy for human

beings, the soil is abundantly fertile, and the land is intersected by

rivers."

"You are speaking of Natal, but what about this part of the country?"

"Between the Coastland and the Drakenburgh range every variety of

tropical and European productions can be cultivated, from the pine apple

to the gooseberry, and I have seen wheat, too, unequalled in size and

quality, grown near where we now are."

"I thought," replied Hughes, "that wherever the sugar cane prospers the

climate is unhealthy?"

"The single exception is that of Natal. The pasture land is eminently

adapted for sheep, and nothing but capital is required--capital and

labour. As we go more north towards the Zambesi, the nature of the land

will alter."

"And Mozelkatse--will he keep his word, think you?"

"He is known for never breaking it," replied the missionary, "he is--."

The sentence was not finished, for a black arm and hand seemed to glide

out of the darkness, and was laid on the missionary's shoulder.

Starting up, he seized the intruder by the throat, but instantly

released him, laughing. It was Masheesh, the Matabele brave, who had

presented them that day to Mozelkatse, and as it may be easily imagined

that the king, though able to create the sun and moon, was readier with

his spear than his pen; the credentials, which were to make his

protection of the party known, assumed the tangible form of the chief

who thus unceremoniously startled them, and who soon, squatted beside

the blaze, proceeded gravely to light his pipe and smoke in silence.

The fire grew low, the two Europeans retired into the tent, but Masheesh

smoked on quietly and composedly. One by one the Kaffirs and Hottentots

lay down, but still the glow of the chief's tobacco could be seen by the

fire side. Rising at last, he heaped fresh wood on the embers, and

calmly taking his place by the tent door and outside, though he had but

to lift it to enter, Masheesh rolled himself in his buffalo hide, and,

gorged with meat and tobacco, soon slept as soundly as the rest.

Volume 1, Chapter V.