The following day the whole kraal was in commotion, Umhleswa summoning
the braves of the tribe around him in council, the white men not being
deprived of their arms, but very closely watched. The assembly was a
noisy one. On the one hand the native superstitions invested the ruins
with a sacred character, and the Amatonga chief had been placed where he
was to prevent any access to them by Europeans. There could not be a
doubt that the whole tribe had been guilty of negligence, their chief
included, and that they were responsible to the king of Manica for what
had happened. On the other, Masheesh, as the representative of his
chief, loudly proclaimed the white men to be under Mozelkatse's
protection, and demanded their safety, threatening a dire revenge if
anything happened to them. The anger of so powerful and fierce a chief
as Mozelkatse was to be dreaded. Umhleswa, too, was an ambitious man,
and was not contented with his position as chief of a petty tribe. He
coveted firearms, and these he could only obtain from the whites.
Without those arms he could do nothing, and the way to procure them was
certainly not by putting to death the first white men who came among
them. Umhleswa was cruel, vindictive, and unscrupulous, and he had,
without hesitation, told the white men a deliberate untruth to hinder
their seeking for the sacred ruins. His chance wound and subsequent
insensibility upset his calculations; still he was very much averse to
shedding their blood.
There was, however, a warrior of the tribe second only to himself in
power--a man of another stamp, and famed for personal courage and deeds
of daring. Between Sgalam and Umhleswa there had always been rivalry,
and, on this occasion, the Amatonga brave took an entirely different
view of the whole matter, openly blaming Umhleswa's conduct, and
demanding the death of the white men as the only means of securing the
safety of the tribe.
The result was long doubtful, and what between the chief's arguments and
Masheesh's threats, the balance seemed in favour of clemency. The
council was noisy, and divided in opinion. Umhleswa had just been
showing in eloquent words the injustice of dooming to death men who had
acted from ignorance, pointing out that they could not have known the
sacred nature of the place they had invaded; and he seemed to be
carrying with him the feelings of the tribe as they all squatted round
in the inclosure on the hill-top, when Sgalam, roused to a last effort,
strode straight up to Luji, who was listening open-mouthed, and laying
his hand on the man's shoulder, "Here is one of their head-men," he
said, with violence; "ask him if the white chiefs were not warned, ay,
even in Mozelkatse's camp. Should they go free, Sgalam himself will
denounce the folly in the council inclosure of Manica."
The baboon, seeing a hand laid on Luji, and doubtless thinking harm was
meant him, at once flew at the orator, making his teeth meet in the
man's arm, and chattering wildly.
The powerful savage, with one blow, dashed the animal to the ground,
Luji, who was fairly roused, being in a great rage, threatening the
chief with the white men's vengeance. A scene of confusion ensued, but
Sgalam's eloquence decided the matter, and the verdict was death; the
council breaking up without fixing when and in what manner the
punishment was to be inflicted.
In the interior of the hut assigned to the Europeans that night, all was
quiet, and the two occupants were sound asleep. There was no door, but
only a narrow entrance, across which a naked savage was sleeping,
several others being thrown here and there outside, also fast asleep.
Midnight was long passed, when a noise was heard near the opening, and
the moonlight was for a moment obscured by two bodies passing. Calling
to Wyzinski, the soldier, who slept lightly, seized his pistols, but the
voice of Masheesh was heard, speaking in low tones, as he stepped over
the body of the sleeping sentry, followed by the second figure. It was
not dark, the moon shining brightly outside, and Umhleswa's face and
form was not one to be easily mistaken. He was naked save at the waist,
his body smeared with oil, but wearing no distinctive mark of any kind,
while his broad, flat nose, high cheek-bones, receding forehead, sharp
filed teeth, and shining body, gave him even a more repulsive look than
usual in the faint moonlight. Outside all was quiet save the usual
cries of the jackals and hyenas hovering round the kraal, and the heavy
breathing of the sleeping guard.
Seating himself on some skins, while Masheesh squatted down near the
entrance, Umhleswa spoke.
"Have the white chiefs no fear of death," he asked, "that they sleep
soundly?"
"No," replied the missionary, using the Zulu dialect; "we do not believe
in it at your hands. We were travelling through the land, our safety
insured by Mozelkatse's word. You sent for us and we came, consequently
besides the safeguard of the king of the Matabele we have yours."
"If Mozelkatse's word be scorned," added the Matabele brave, "the land
between the Suave and the Zambesi shall be dyed red with Amatonga blood,
and the assegai of Masheesh shall find the heart of their chief. The
country shall be desert, and the tribe live only in the remembrance of
the past."
"I have not come to the dwelling of the white men to hear this," replied
Umhleswa, scornfully. "Will they promise, by their God, not to go near
the fallen huts if set free?"
Both hesitated, for the desire to explore those ruins was strong in
their minds, and both were willing to risk life to do so.
"We will make Umhleswa rich with presents, we will hunt for him the
elephant and the rhinoceros, if he will not only allow us to see the
ruined huts, but aid us with his men to lay them bare."
The dark eyes of the savage glistened at the thought of the presents,
and he mused for several minutes, the silence being so deep that the
breathing of the sleeping men could be distinctly heard outside. He
spoke at last, but slowly--
"It may not be; send Umhleswa arms for his tribe; make him powerful
enough not to heed the anger of the chief of Manica, and the fallen huts
are the white men's. Do they know that death has been pronounced
against them, and do they know the kind of death they must meet?"
"It matters not what," replied the missionary; "we have faced it too
often to fear it in any form."
"Death!" hissed out the savage, his eyes gleaming, and his white teeth
shown in the half light, "by fire,--slow, but sure death. Will the
white chiefs promise?"
"We promise," replied the missionary.
"Will they pay a ransom?" continued the savage.
"We have nothing to give; but we will return with presents."
The chief pointed to the rifles and pistols.
"Umhleswa would gladly have these, and when the white men return with
more, he will take them also."
"They shall be yours, chief, when we cross the frontier, not before."
"Will the God of the white man send rain when his children ask for it?"
he inquired.
"If in his great power and infinite knowledge he thinks it is
necessary," replied the missionary, a little jesuitically.
"Then," continued Umhleswa, "it is agreed. The white men promise not to
hanker after the fallen houses, but to cross the frontier near the
Zambesi, to give each a rifle, also that when they return they will
bring a rich present for Umhleswa, giving him the means to resist the
chief of Manica, and to laugh at his anger."
"It is agreed," replied the missionary.
"The white man speaking our language answers for his brother?" asked the
savage.
"He shall answer for himself," replied the missionary.
Turning to the soldier, Wyzinski explained the terms of the bargain,
pointing out that they were completely in the chief's power, and that he
himself was fully determined to organise a party, and return to the
ruins, in which case the protection of the savage would be valuable.
At the other end of the hut a violent discussion was going on between
the Matabele brave and the Amatonga warrior, the former declaring that
the white men must be brought back to Mozelkatse's country, the other
remaining quite unmoved.
Hughes at once saw the truth of Wyzinski's explanation, and though he
did not like to part with an old friend, made up his mind to do so, the
more readily because he saw that Umhleswa could equally be in possession
of the rifles by killing the whole party. He therefore rose, crossed to
where the chief sat, and gave his hand in token of ratification.
"Good," said Umhleswa, rising; "and now let the white men sleep in
peace." Stepping over the figures of his recumbent braves, the chief
took his way in the moonlight, through the huts, even the dogs remaining
silent as he passed.
It was nearly dawn, and Masheesh having thrown himself down on the
ground to sleep, the two white men, greatly relieved, sat discussing
their future prospects. The freshness of the coming day had made itself
felt already, the moonlight was growing more and more feeble, and still
they sat talking of many things.
"We shall have plenty left to send the Matabele back a rich man," said
the missionary.
"And as for Luji, I left his full pay and a handsome `Bucksheesh' with
my relative on the Umvoti," answered Hughes.
"We shall be certain of a good reception from the Portuguese at Tete or
Senna on the Zambesi, and are sure to find some coasting vessel at
Quillimane, bound for Table Bay."
"And we shall have traversed Eastern Africa from the Limpopo northwards
to the Zambesi; but, see, day is breaking; I long for the fresh air of
morning after stilling all night here."
Taking up his rifle, Hughes walked to the entrance, stooped, and went
out, stepping over the prostrate bodies of the guard. Day was just
breaking, and with it the Amatonga kraal was waking into life. Luji was
fast asleep under the tree, and on a branch above him, sat the baboon,
looking upwards, and making hideous faces. It was evident there was
something concealed in the tree, which wanted to pass the monkey, and
which the latter would not allow. Watching them, Hughes soon saw a
head, garnished with two great eyes, peeping out of the foliage.
Waiting an opportunity, he fired, the village ringing with the report
which sounded very loud on the quiet morning air. The guards at the
entrance of the hut, startled out of all propriety, jumped to their
feet, forgetting their duty, and scuttled off. A howl of terror from
Luji rang out, the caracal, dropping from branch to branch, plumped
heavily on the half-awakened Hottentot, while the baboon dashed after
it, chattering with delight. The animal was a large one, and resembled
a very big and beautifully marked cat, striped like a small tiger, the
ears being black, pointed, and tipped with tufts of hair.
Taking it by the tail, and laughing at the alarm he had caused, Hughes
walked towards the entrance of the hut, where, attracted by the report,
the missionary and Masheesh stood.
Just as he reached it, a long, loud, wailing cry rang out from the very
centre of the kraal. For a moment all was silent, and then once more it
was heard. There was an unusual bustle, the savages, male and female,
seeming much excited. Soon many other voices chimed in, and it became
evident that something had happened to cause sorrow and lamentation in
the tribe. Masheesh had already gone, and breakfast was to the two
white men of more importance than anything that could affect their
hosts, the Amatongas.
Volume 1, Chapter XII.