The White Hecatomb Part 5

"In about a fortnight's time we packed the wagons and started for the new farm, which lay in the mountains about fifteen miles, just as the crow flies, to the westward of Lydenburg. We reached there in four days, and I began building at once with bricks from some old walls which we broke down. There was a sort of a shanty already standing, but the old man wanted a bran-new house put up, and I took on the contract to do the mason-work, a.s.sisted by his boys. What with brick-burning and laying the foundation, it promised to be a six months' job.

"I just lived with the family like in the old days, only friendlier.

Hessie could not do enough for me, and talked and went on with me just like she used to as a child. By and by this young woman's fondness began to make me feel queer. I was very fond of her, too, but a bit afraid of her at the same time; she was so mortal good and innocent, and the worst of it was she believed me to be the same. Many's the time I've been sorrowful for days together through thinking of my past life, and wis.h.i.+ng it had been different. Supposing I'd kept on the straight those five years, I might perhaps have put by enough money to buy a little farm, and then have married Hessie; for the old man liked me and would, I'm pretty sure, have helped us with some stock. These thoughts used to worry me more and more; it was just terrible to think of the chance I'd lost. And then the girl got fonder and fonder of me, and used to look sad when I'd keep out of her way, as I often did for two or three days at a spell.

"No, I never once thought of trying, as you say, 'to live down the past,' and marry her. You see, I couldn't. There were good reasons against it. I've not told you half about the life I led those five years. Drink alone was enough. I knew that sometimes when the thirst for lush took me, nothing on earth would keep me from drinking. Once I went to Lydenburg where I was not known, and stayed a week just because I felt I must go on the bend. I was drunk on the quiet for three days in a back room of the hotel, and then I stayed four days sober before returning, so as to let the signs work off. But there was worse than the drink...

"After I'd been on the farm about six months, young Jacob, the old woman's nephew, turned up. He had been away down colony for nearly a year. Jacob had grown into a long, thin, slouching galoot with a yellow face and a live-long-day scowl. His squint made him seem to be always looking round the corner. He, it turned out, had asked Hessie to marry him just before I'd conic back, and she'd not said no, nor yet yes, to him; but just that she wanted to wait a bit, and that she'd see when lie returned from the colony. I soon saw that Jacob was hot spoons on Hessie, and dreadful jealous of me. For a while I enjoyed making him mad, but when I saw how bad he looked I got sorry for him, and tried to avoid the girl. Then _she_ began to look miserable, and, I can't tell you, what with one thing and another, I didn't just know where I was.

"One day, just about a month before I expected the job to be finished, I was standing by myself working at pointing the foundation, when who should come round the corner but Hessie. She sat down on a stone close by. 'Vellum,' says she, 'Jacob has again been asking me to marry him, and I've told him I won't.' 'But,' says I, 'why don't you marry him, Hessie? he's got a good farm, and I'm sure he's fond enough of you.'

"When I'd begun speaking I'd my face towards my work, and just when I stopped I turned to look at Hessie. She was leaning forward with her mouth half-open and her cheeks pale. For a while she didn't speak.

Then she gave a gulp and said, breathing hard: 'Oh, Vellum, is it you who says that to me?' I felt that sorry, I could have cut my throat. I knew now that I loved the girl as I'd never loved any one else, and here she was offering herself to me and I couldn't take the gift. I cursed my own folly again only hotter, and what with one thought and another, I clean forgot for a few moments where I was, and that Hessie was there.

"When I looked round again Hessie was still staring at me, and then the thought came to tell her a lie which would hurt a bit at first, but do her good in the end. So I just said in a sort of jokey way: 'Why, Hessie, if I weren't a married man I'd think you were in love with me.'

"At that she gave a start and another gulp and said: 'Are you truly a married man, Vellum?' Well, thinks I, it's no use turning back now, so I said: 'Yes, Hessie; didn't you know I've been married four years, and that my wife has gone to stay with her people at Potchefstrom?' At this she just stood up, and walked away.

"Well, thinks I to myself, the sooner I'm out of this the better; but of course I couldn't leave before my job was finished. I saw very little of Hessie now except at table. She went about very pale, and never once looked me in the eye, for which I was very thankful. Not many days after our talk, the old man told me she'd promised to marry Jacob, who, all the same, seemed to scowl worse than ever, and looked as mean as a rotten banana.

"As bad luck would have it, no sooner was my contract finished than the war with the English broke out. Then Lydenburg was in a state of siege, so I couldn't get away. After a while a lot of Boers trecked on to the farm, and formed a 'laager' there. Then a commandant came from near Pretoria, and took charge. This happened to be a man who'd often enough seen me blind drunk in the streets between my spells of work. I'd done a job for him, too, and he'd humbugged me out of two pound ten. I felt sure he'd told my old man all about me, but beyond looking a bit strange for a day or two, it made no difference in him or in the old woman--they were just as kind as ever. But all the other Boers looked very sour at me, and would never answer when I'd speak to them.

"Jacob had a cousin who was a parson--and the dead spit of him--right down to the squint and the scowl. He was what they called a 'dopper,'

[a South African Calvinist], which means in parsons one who sings very slowly, and speaks through his nose. This chap came one Sunday and preached to the Boers. His sermon was all about some folks called the Amalekites, and a chap called Agag, and that the Lord's chosen people must hew to pieces all folks who weren't chosen. He also told them they were to be careful of spies, and he talked a lot about wolves in sheep's clothing. I was a long way off, but he ramped and shouted so loud, I could hear it all.

"Next day the old man told me on the quiet that I was suspected of being a spy, and that my life was in clanger. I told him this was ridiculous, because I'd been on the farm for months before the war began, and had no friends outside the 'laager.' He said he knew this, but that all the others were against me, and I must be careful.

"A couple of days after this the old man told me I'd have to clear out without further delay, because all the other Boers hated me like poison, and they meant to try me by court-martial for being a spy, and perhaps shoot me. He said that Jacob would take me away on horseback that night, and then I could lie by during the following day, and make my way to the English lines at Lydenburg when it got dark again. Just after midnight we were to creep away to a bush where our horses would be tied, and ride on from there. The old man gave me twenty-five pounds, which was all the money he had by him, and said he would send me the balance when the war was over, and I'd given him my address.

"That night I went into my room, and pretended to go to bed as usual. I just put my few little things together, and then I blew out the candle and sat waiting in the dark, feeling very lonesome and uneasy.

"By and by I heard a light tap at the door, so I opened it, and there I found Hessie with a Hottentot servant-girl named Griet, who used to wash my clothes. They came in on tip-toe, shut the door, and then Hessie drew me to one side and whispered very softly: 'Vellum,' says she, 'you must do what I tell you now, quickly, and ask no questions.' 'All right, Hessie,' says I, 'what am I to do?' 'You must go into that corner of the room and take off all your clothes, and I will do the same in the opposite one. Then Griet will bring yours to me and mine to you, which you must put on. Do this at once, and then I will tell you the rest.'

"I could tell from the girl's way of speaking that she was very much in earnest, so without saying anything I just went into the corner and took off my clothes. In a few moments Griet carried them away, and brought me Hessie's, which I put on. They fitted me quite well.

"Just then Hessie stepped out of her corner and came to me in the dark.

'Now, Vellum,' says she, 'just go with Griet, and when she tells you, steal out of the "laager" and follow her. Then walk as quickly as you can along the Lydenburg road until daybreak, when you must hide in the bush until night comes again. From there you can easily reach the Lydenburg "laager" before next morning.'

"She then took my two hands and pressed them very hard. 'Vellum,' says she, 'we will never meet again; think kindly of me, for I love you very dearly.' She then let go my hands, and put her arms around my neck.

'Good-bye, Vellum,' says she, 'give that to your wife when you see her,'

and then she gave me a long, loving kiss. Then she and Griet left the room together, before I'd been able to say a word.

"Now that I knew I'd never see Hessie again, I felt more knocked of a heap than I'd ever felt in my life, and hot with shame at the lie I'd let her go away believing. I sat in the room and waited for about an hour, feeling quite queer in Hessie's clothes, and liking to feel that what now touched me had touched her that was so good, and wondering whether, if I escaped, I'd have the grit in me to try and be a better man for her sake. I had a big 'cappie' on, which quite covered my face.

I kept wondering why the plan for getting me away had been changed; but I guessed Hessie had some good reason for what she'd done.

"Then Griet came in and told me to follow her quickly. We went out by the front door. She was barefoot, and I just in my socks, and carrying my boots. We crept round the house in the shadow of the wall, and stole down the garden, which was long and narrow, with quince hedges on each side. We crossed a stream of water at the other end, and then walked quickly up the hill opposite, until we came to the road, along which we went as hard as we could. Then I wanted to put on my boots, so we turned a bit out of the road, and sat down under a bush.

"Griet then said she'd go back, so I gave her half-a-sovereign for herself, and my kind love and thanks to take to Hessie. Griet told me I was to listen for a horse's footsteps, and when I heard this, to take cover until the horseman had pa.s.sed. Griet then said 'Good-bye, Boss,'

and we shook hands, and she went back.

"I walked along the road as quick as I could, and after going for about a quarter of an hour I heard a shot far ahead. This gave me a bit of a start, but I knew there was nothing for it but to keep my ears and eyes open, and go straight on, so straight on I went.

"Soon after this, I heard the sound of horses' feet coming on in front, so I just went a few yards out of the road, and lay down among some rocks. In a few minutes a man rode past leading a horse by the bridle.

This was Jacob, and he was laughing to himself quite loud. After pa.s.sing me by a few yards, he stopped and dismounted. Then he let go the horse he had been leading, and gave it a heavy kick in the stomach.

The horse just trotted away a few yards and began to feed. Jacob mounted again and rode on, still laughing. I tried to think what all this meant, but it got over me altogether. The last thing I heard of him was his laugh. What made it so queer was that I'd never heard him laugh before.

"After Jacob had got well past I went over to the horse, which was still feeding, and found it was my old moke, ready saddled-up. Here, thinks I, is a bit of luck; so I got on him and rode away, taking it easy, for I knew I could not reach Lydenburg that night, and I meant just to overhaul a gully full of scrub that I knew of about ten miles ahead, and where I could lie by next day.

"As I was going slowly along, my old horse began to c.o.c.k his ears and snort, and then he gave a shy that nearly threw me out of the saddle. I looked, and saw something lying just at the side of the road. It was not a very dark night; there was no moon, but the stars could be seen every now and then through the flying scud. Seeing that the thing lay quite still, I got off to look more closely at it. I found it was a dead body... I at once thought of the shot and of Jacob's laugh. I noticed a big slouch hat lying alongside, which somehow reminded me of my own.

"I laid my hand on the body, and found that it was quite warm. I felt farther and found... My G.o.d!... It was Hessie!

"She was quite dead, shot from behind through the back and chest... I was standing in a puddle of her blood... I saw it all now. That d.a.m.nable scoundrel Jacob had brought her out here and shot her, thinking it was me. She had found out his meaning in offering to take me away, and come and died in my place...

"So now you can see, sir, why it is of no use your talking to me of 'turning over a new leaf,' and 'leading a different life.' I'm sick and tired of everything, and I'll be a drunken tramp until I die in a ditch.

"When the war was over I went back to look for Jacob and kill him at sight. But the devil had got the best of me. Jacob's neck had been broken by the capsizing of a wagon... I often hear that laugh of his...

Some day I'll hear it in h.e.l.l."

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE SEED OF THE CHURCH.

"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church."

Tertullian.

_One_.

Matshaka sat on a stone on the highest south-eastern spur of the Intsiza Mountain, just overlooking the Rode Wesleyan Mission Station, one Sunday morning in the month of November 1880, and listened to the faint throbbing of the church bell. Beyond the mission, the broken hills of Pondoland, divided by the winding Umzimvubu--"the river of the sea-cows"--stretched away towards the ocean until they merged with the sky in an opaline haze. Around the Intsiza and on the surrounding mountain ranges the air was clear; and the distant features of the landscape looked unnaturally near--an almost certain sign of imminent rain.

It was the season of thunder-storms. The sun beat fiercely into the glowing valleys, but on the mountain-tops the air was cool. Already the heavy c.u.mulus clouds were curdling over the distant Drakensberg, and raising their white and s.h.i.+ning ma.s.ses over the near Xomlenzi range. In the course of a few hours they would unite and sweep over valley and mountain, with shoutings of thunder and wind, and volleys of lightning, hail, and rain.

Along the almost invisible footpaths the people could be seen approaching the church from many directions. They suggested ants slowly creeping to a nest. Matshaka looked at them and thought deeply. The light breeze that almost invariably streams for hours against an approaching thunder-storm carried to his ear the clear notes of the bell. The beats grouped themselves in sets of three: what was the bell trying to say? It seemed as if a word were being repeated over and over again in the ringing. At length he found it--"Intsiza, Intsiza, Intsiza;" that was the word. "Intsiza" in the Kafir language means "refuge." The mountain was so called on account of its broken and involuted valleys which, in the oft-recurring inter-tribal wars between the Pondos, the Bacas, and the Xesibes, afforded a refuge to the vanquished. And now the church bell tolled out the word so clearly that Matshaka wondered how the thing could ever have puzzled him--"Intsiza, Intsiza, Intsiza."

Matshaka was a Pondo. A heathen and a polygamist, he had lived his fifty years without a single aspiration towards anything better than the surrounding savage conditions afforded him. A man of strong character, he had ama.s.sed considerable wealth, and attained to an influential position in his clan. From where he sat listening to the bell he could see a large herd of his cattle grazing in the valley below his kraal, which was situated about four miles from the Rode Mission.

Pondoland, like every state under savage rule, was the scene of cruelty, oppression, and misgovernment in most forms. Exposed to the unchecked rapacity of the chiefs, the unhappy people were always in danger of death, or confiscation of their property upon some puerile pretext. The one quality which was of advantage to its possessor was cunning.

Frugality and industry resulted in the ama.s.sing of wealth, and wealth excited the envy and cupidity of the rulers, who, through the agency of the witch-doctor, were never at a loss for a pretext for "eating up" the owner. Courage availed little, for what could one do against numbers?

Honesty would have been ridiculously out of place; conspicuous ability minus cunning would have excited sure and fatal jealousy. Cunning combined with force of character generally enabled a man to die a natural death--even though rich; provided, of course, that he had been judiciously liberal in the right quarters, and had consistently supported the strong against the weak.