Haviland's Chum Part 22

"Then I said 'Ye seek Mushad? Good. I can deliver him into your hands--lead me to the _impi_.' Then one man said--not speaking very well in the tongue of the Zulu, 'How knowest thou whom we seek, O stranger; and how knowest thou that there be an _impi_ with us?' And I said, 'Look at me. I am not a boy. I am a _kehla_, and have I not fought the battles of the Great Great One--he of the House of Senzangakona?' And they said, 'It is well, O stranger. Show us Mushad.' And now, _Amakosi_, I would ask you--'Have I not done so?'"

The cordial a.s.sent of Haviland was drowned in the chorus of emphatic applause thundered forth from those who heard, for the few who had gathered round to listen had swelled into a mighty crowd, as, seated there, the Zulu warrior poured forth his tale.

"And what of ourselves, k.u.mbelwa?" asked Haviland. "How are we to return, for we have no bearers left, and all that is valuable to us, though valuable to no one else, lies up yonder, where we fought?"

The Zulu's countenance seemed ever so slightly to fall.

"For that, _Nkose_, you must go with these. The Father of this people desires to see you."

"That is so, O strangers," broke in a deep voice. Both turned. The words had proceeded from a very tall man, taller even than k.u.mbelwa, who stood forth a little from the rest. He was a magnificent savage as he stood there, clad in his war costume, his head thrown haughtily back, his hand resting on his great s.h.i.+eld. But the glance wherewith he favoured them was one of supercilious command, almost of hostility.

Both Haviland and Oakley felt an instinctive dislike and distrust for the man as they returned his glance.

"Who is the warrior I see before me?" asked Haviland, courteously, realising that this man was chief in command of the _impi_.

"I am Dumaliso," was the reply. "You must go with us."

And somehow both our friends realised that their troubles were by no means over.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

WERE THEY PRISONERS?

The first elation of their most timely rescue cooled, Haviland and Oakley realised that they had no very bright outlook before them, under the changed condition of things. Instead of their return to civilisation and the outside world after their long exile--a return, too, bearing with them the results of a highly successful enterprise, and which every day had been bringing nearer and nearer--here they were virtually captives once more, in process of being marched back further and further from the goal to which they had looked; back, indeed, into unknown wilds, and at the mercy of a barbarian despot whose raids and ma.s.sacres had set up a reputation for cruelty which surpa.s.sed that of Mushad himself.

The conditions of the march, too, were exhausting even to themselves.

Twenty-five, even thirty miles a day, were as nothing to these sinewy savages. They did not, however, take a straight line, but diverged considerably every now and then to fall upon some unhappy village.

Contrary, however, to custom, they perpetrated no ma.s.sacres on these occasions. What they did do was to show off Mushad and his princ.i.p.al followers, with slave-yokes on their necks, and under every possible circ.u.mstance of ignominy, in order that all might see that the terrible and redoubted slaver chief was a mere dog beside the power of the Great King. This revolted the two Englishmen, and however little reason they had to commiserate their late enemies, at any rate these were brave men, and they had expected that a brave race like the Inswani would have recognised this. At last they said as much.

It happened that Dumaliso had compelled several of the meanest of the villagers to lash Mushad. The infliction was not severe. It was merely the indignity that was aimed at. The haughty Arab, however, might have been made of wood for all the sign he gave of either pain or humiliation. But the two white men were thoroughly disgusted, and it is absolutely certain that, had the means been at hand, they would, at all risks, have aided their late enemy to escape.

"Why degrade a brave man thus, leader of the Great Great One's impi?"

Haviland had expostulated. "If he is to die, even in torment, it may be that he has deserved that. But to degrade him at the hands of these vile dogs, who just now trembled at the mere sound of his name--is that well?"

"Is it well?" echoed Dumaliso, with a brutal laugh. "See there, white man," pointing with his great a.s.segai at Mushad. "If yonder dog had fifty lives, every one of them should be taken from him in the torment of many days. For him nothing is too bad. It is the word of the Great Great One."

"What has he done, that your King should hate him so?"

"_Au_! He has seized and made slaves of some of our people. Inswani slaves! Think of it, _Umlungu_! That for one thing. For another, he has sworn to seize the Great Great One, and turn him into the meanest of slaves, to heap indignities upon him far worse than any we have heaped upon his vile carrion carcase, indignities which are not to be named.

This hath he done, O insect-hunter! Is it not enough?"

Haviland realised the futility of further remonstrance, but the unpleasant conviction seemed to be growing upon them more and more that they had perchance only fallen out of the frying-pan into the fire--that they were themselves virtually prisoners, and that in the hands of a race of ferocious savages without one spark of humanity or ruth--in short, for sheer devilish, bloodthirsty cruelty not one whit behind those from whom they had been delivered. Not a day but furnished forth instances of this. The captive slave-hunters had been forced to act as carriers, and enormous bundles containing the loot of both camps had been placed upon them to bear. Did they falter, they were unmercifully beaten and goaded on with spear-points, while several, who from sheer exhaustion gave up, were savagely tortured and mutilated and left to die. To our two friends it was simply horrible. It was as though the dark places of the earth were indeed given over to devils in human shape--to work their utmost in deeds of sickening barbarity and bloodshed. And further and further into these "dark places" were they themselves being forced.

They had induced their rescuers--or captors--to revisit the scene of the battle, by holding out to them the possibility of finding more loot, over looked or not thought worth bringing away by Mushad, their own object being twofold--to bury their unfortunate friend, and to recover if possible the precious specimens. As to the first, disappointment befell them, for such high revel had been held by the carrion birds and beasts that the remains of the doctor were undistinguishable from those of any other victim of the hideous ma.s.sacre. In the second matter they were more fortunate. Most of the treasured collections had escaped damage, and the Inswani warriors had stood round, some amused, some jeering, at the spectacle of the two white men--who they had it from k.u.mbelwa _could_ fight--eagerly repacking dried and pressed plants, or striving to repair the broken wings of tiny beetles.

Haviland, with his knowledge of their language, had laid himself out to try and gain their friends.h.i.+p, but they were not particularly responsive; and here he was surprised, for, whereas some--Dumaliso included--spoke pure Zulu, others only talked a kind of dialect of it, introducing a great many words that were strange to him. Yet somehow none of these men quite resembled the straight, clean-limbed, aristocratic savage he had become familiar with in the realm of Cetywayo. In physique many of them excelled him, but there was a hard, brutal, aggressive look in their otherwise intelligent faces. Those of them, too, who wore the head-ring wore it very large and thick, and, as we have said, their s.h.i.+elds and a.s.segais were heavier and of a different finish. He wondered whether these were an evolution of the original Zulu, or if the Zulu up to date had receded from this type.

Day after day their weary march continued, and they began to estimate they had covered close on four hundred miles. Four hundred weary miles to be re-traversed, if they ever did return. But during the last few days the face of the country had been improving. The climate was cooler, and, as they had been gradually ascending, it was evident that the home of these people lay amid healthy uplands. Great valleys opened out, dotted with mimosa patches and baobab, and half a hundred varieties of shrubbery. Game, too, was plentiful; but when our friends would have varied the monotony of the march by a little sport they were promptly repressed, for this was one of the king's preserves, and woe betide him who should violate, it. And then at last one morning a halt was called, and weapons and s.h.i.+elds were furbished up, and full war-gear, laid aside for the march, was donned. Away in the distance, far up the valley, but just discernible from their elevation on the hill slope, a light veil of smoke hung upon the morning air. It was the King's town.

And now, as the march was resumed, our two friends saw, for the first time, something of the people of the country into which they had been brought; for those inhabiting the outlying villages, both men and women, came swarming down to meet the returning impi. Most of the women, they noticed to their surprise, were inclined to be rather short and squat, though there were some of good height among them. But these stared at the two Englishmen in wild surprise, uttering remarks which, to Haviland, at any rate, who understood them, were not calculated to enhance self-esteem. The main centre of attention, however, was the presence of the captive slave-hunters, and here the fury of the undisciplined savage nature broke forth, and the air rang with wild howls and threats of impending vengeance. And this awful tumult gathered volume as it rolled along the valley, for, drawn by it, others came down in every direction to swell the tide of dark, infuriated humanity; and, lo! the returning impi seemed a mere handful in the midst of the crowd that poured round it on every hand, roaring like beasts, clamouring for the blood and anguish of their hated foes; and the dust swirled heavenward in a mighty cloud, while the earth s.h.i.+vered to the thunder of thousands and thousands of feet.

In the midst of all this horrible tumult, our two friends were straining their eyes through the blinding dust-clouds to catch a first glimpse of the town, and it was not until they were right upon it that they did so.

Contrary to their expectation, however, it bore no resemblance what ever to a Zulu kraal, for it was square in shape and fenced in with a formidable stockade. Some twenty yards back from it was another and a similar stockade, and they reckoned that the s.p.a.ce enclosed by this was fully a mile each way. The huts, or houses, were also square, except in some instances where they were oblong, and many of them were of some size. From these dark forms could be seen pouring, until all the open s.p.a.ces within the town were even as a disturbed ants' nest. Then, as they drew near the princ.i.p.al gate, Haviland noticed that the stakes on either side of it were thickly studded with heads, a very un-Zulu practice.

The whole impi defiled through this, followed by its accompanying crowd, and to such grim accompaniment our two friends entered the head town of the terrible King of the Inswani. But they were rather silent, for the same thought was in both their minds. How would they leave it?

Up to the princ.i.p.al open s.p.a.ce they marched, the impi with its prisoners in its midst, distinguishable from the unorganised crowd by its well-ordered ranks and towering head-gear. Before an oblong hut of large size it halted. Down went s.h.i.+eld and weapon. Every right hand shot into the air, and from the thousand and odd throats there roared forth one word:

"_Umnovu_!"

"Drop your weapons, _Amakosi_!" whispered a warning voice.

Haviland obeyed, telling Oakley to do the same, for the speaker was k.u.mbelwa.

The whole vast crowd continued its vociferations. It was evident, too, to the two white spectators that the word was a royal t.i.tle, or form of salute. Still the roar continued, but n.o.body appeared. Then the impi struck up a kind of swaying dance. Faster and faster this grew, stimulated by a wild whirling chant. The whole body would prostrate itself, rising as one man, and taking extravagant leaps into the air.

At last, when the frenzy had reached its height, and throats were hoa.r.s.e with bawling, and dusky bodies were streaming with perspiration, the uproar ceased--ceased so suddenly that the dead silence which succeeded was even more startling than the tumult of a second before.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE KING.

"Down, _Amakosi_," whispered k.u.mbelwa again. "Down."

The whole a.s.sembly had fallen flat, but our two friends drew the line at that. However, they compromised by dropping into a kind of squatting att.i.tude, and at once the King's gaze rested upon them.

It was a sufficiently terror-striking glance. They saw before them a magnificent specimen of a savage, very tall and broad, and of a rich red copper colour. He was clad in a _mutya_ of leopard skin, and wore a short cloak of the same, dangling from one shoulder. His head was shaven, but it and the large thick ring were partly concealed by a towering head-dress of black ostrich plumes, a continuation of which fell on either side so as to cover his shoulders. But the face would have commanded attention anywhere, such an impression did it convey of relentless ferocity, of absolute pitilessness, and, at the same time, of indomitable courage. Yet it was the countenance of quite a young man.

For some time the King's eyes rested on the two white men with a fierce and penetrating stare. Then, pointing at them with the broad-bladed a.s.segai in his hand, he said:

"Who are these?"

A confused murmur arose among the crowd, a sort of deprecatory wail.

Then the chiefs of the impi crawled to the King's feet and began to make their report, a mere matter of ceremony, for of course swift runners had already been sent on ahead to tell what had happened. He listened in silence, gazing down upon them with a haughty stare.

"It is well," he said at last. "Bring these people now before me."

He strode forth, proceeding along the edge of the prostrate crowd.

Three or four old indunas were with him, keeping just a pace in the rear. When he had pa.s.sed, the whole impi sprang to its feet--and broke into shouts of praise:

"Fire-maker!"

"Mighty tree that crackleth into sparks!"

"Burner up of the sun at noon!"

"Thou, whose glance scorches up men!"