The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley Part 27

"To The Tooth! to The Tooth!"

"Even now I do not fear you, Ingonyama," went on the trader, intrepidly.

"For my death will surely be avenged--ay, as surely as yonder sun will rise to-morrow. It may be that the might of the king will rise up and stamp flat this tribe of _abatagati_ [those who practise arts of wizardry]; it may be that my own countrymen will. But it shall surely be done, ye who call yourselves Igazipuza, and my death shall be avenged."

Again the wild, roaring clamour drowned his words. The intrepidity of the man exasperated them while compelling their admiration. Of the latter, however, Ingonyama felt none. He only remembered his own humiliation at this man's hands, here on this very spot. His features working, his eyes rolling in fury, he said slowly--

"Let him be bitten on the point of The Tooth."

"Ha! on the point of The Tooth! on the point of The Tooth!" roared the ferocious crowd in deafening chorus. And a mult.i.tude of eager hands were stretched forward to seize the unfortunate man, and drag him away to his hideous death of torture.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE KING'S "HUNTING-DOGS."

To attempt to describe the fearful despair, the agony of self-reproach, which took possession of poor Gerard's heart as he awoke to find himself once more in the power of the savages is impossible. The very stars in their courses seemed to be fighting against him. Had he not gone through enough in all conscience? And now all his past perils and experiences were thrown away. He and his comrade were no better off than before his attempted escape, probably indeed worse. Again, it was while he slept that the enemy had stolen upon him--while he slept. He had sacrificed his companion for the sake of a few hours' sleep! Well, he himself deserved all he might meet with; but Dawes--he had sold him-- had fallen asleep at his post like a cowardly and untrustworthy sentinel. The poor fellow was in agonies of self-torment at the thought.

But for the perturbed and flurried state of mind, into which these reflections had thrown him, he would have perceived that the Zulus were every bit as astonished at his appearance as he was at theirs. As it was, he only saw the same dark resolute countenances and ringed heads, the same great broad-bladed a.s.segais. These men, however, carried great white s.h.i.+elds with black facings.

"Who are you, _Umlungu_, and where do you come from?" said one of them after a moment of silence.

Gerard looked at the speaker, and collecting his ideas, replied, with all the dignity at his command, that he was carrying a message to the king.

A smothered e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n burst from the group, and they exchanged glances.

"Does a white man, carrying a message to the king, travel through the country in that state?" said the first who had spoken.

Gerard followed his glance, and appreciated the meaning with which the words were uttered, as he remembered the travel-worn and rather disreputable appearance which he must present. His rifle, too, was beginning to rust, for in the fatigue and exhaustion which had come upon him before falling asleep, he had neglected to do more than just wipe it. The broken hunting-knife was still spliced to the muzzle.

"I lost my horse, and an alligator attacked me in the river," he replied. "I speared him with this, struck him through the eye, and I believe I killed him."

"_Hau_!" broke from the listeners, staring at the broken knife-blade.

"That was well done, _Umlungu_. But--where do you come from?"

"Who is your chief?" said Gerard, fencing the question after their own fas.h.i.+on.

"He is not here," was the characteristic reply. "But he is close at hand."

"Take me to him."

And Gerard rose, as decisive apparently in purpose as he was in speech.

"Come!" said the spokesman, laconically.

Then, with Gerard in their midst, the group moved off. For upwards of half an hour they filed through the bush at a rapid pace, in process whereof Gerard's attempts at further enlightenment were met by an intimation, terse but not discourteous, that under present circ.u.mstances silence was preferable to speech. But he noticed one thing, overlooked at first in his despair and confusion. These warriors, whoever they might be, did not show the red-painted disc on forehead and breast which distinguished the dreaded Igazipuza.

The way had grown wilder and wilder, and instead of the straggling and more or less scattered bush, the party was now proceeding beneath tall forest trees, from whose gnarled and ma.s.sive boughs dangled monkey ropes and trailers. The shade was almost a gloom, into which the last rays of the now setting sun shot redly. And now a strange, eerie, fluttering sort of life seemed to spring up within the gloom of those forest shades, and Gerard could not repress an exclamation of astonishment as he looked. For the place was alive with armed warriors, starting up like ghosts, silently, noiselessly, out of nowhere. There seemed to be no end to their number, and he could mark the surprise on each dark face, could hear the low e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and the quivering rattle of a.s.segai hafts as they became aware of his presence.

"Who--what are these?" he asked.

"You wanted to see the chief, _Umlungu_," was the reply. "Have patience. You shall see him."

Gerard's first thought was that the talked of Anglo-Zulu war had actually broken out, and this was a force proceeding against his countrymen, and his heart sank. For if that were so, what chance was there for Dawes, in the power of one of Cetywayo's savage va.s.sals? The king was not likely to risk offending one of his most influential chiefs by demanding the release of a member of the race which was making war upon his nation and dynasty. His meditations on this head were promptly cut short, for his escort had emerged upon a small open glade overhung by a high rock, whose summit was plumed by a dark line of straight-stemmed euphorbia, and beneath this sat a group of men, in whose aspect there was something which instinctively told him they were men of the highest authority.

His escort made a sign for him to halt, while a couple of them went forward to confer with these. Then he was told to advance.

"The chief--that is he!" said one of them.

The man indicated, a large finely built Zulu, was seated in the centre of the group. As his gaze fell upon him Gerard stared; then he started with astonishment--this time openly and undisguisedly--then stared again.

"Sobuza!" he cried. And to the unbounded amazement of his escort, and indeed of all beholders, he dropped his rifle and stepped forward to the chief with outstretched hand.

The latter, indeed, was hardly less astonished than himself, but, with the self-control of his race and rank, showed it but little. A slight smile came over his face, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he shook Gerard by the hand with a hearty grip.

"_Au_! Jeriji. I remember you," he said kindly.

There was that in the act, in the tone, which went straight to Gerard's heart. Here, in this unknown wilderness, after his perilous escapes, he felt that he had found a friend. In the hands of this savage chieftain, surrounded by his armed host, he felt perfectly safe. Whatever the errand of destruction upon which this formidable force was engaged, in the presence of the man he had succoured twice in the hour of danger and difficulty he felt no distrust, no misgiving.

The astonishment of the onlookers at this strange and unexpected recognition knew no bounds. They bent eagerly forward, with many a smothered "_whou_!" of amazement. But the frank, open, impulsive way in which Gerard had greeted their chief had made the best of impressions, for the Zulu in those days was not without his share of real chivalrous feeling, and the complete absence of any lingering distrust on the part of their prisoner--or guest--appealed powerfully to them. His rifle lay on the ground exactly where he had placed it. Not one of them would pick it up, lest the act might be construed into one of distrust, of disarming him, so to say.

"Sit here, Jeriji," said the chief, motioning him to a place at his side. "Did you come into the Zulu country all alone to kill alligators, or to pay me a visit?" he went on, with a comical smile, as Gerard promptly acted upon the invitation.

"Neither the one nor the other, Sobuza. But, first tell me, are you and your men out against--my countrymen?"

"Not so," said the chief. "We are not at war with the English."

"I am glad of that. Now listen. You asked me why I came into your country. I did not come into it; I was brought into it."

"Brought into it?" repeated the chief in some astonishment. "By whom?"

"By Ingonyama's people. Those, who call themselves Igazipuza."

"_Hau_! Igazipuza!"

The astonishment, emphatic and unfeigned, with which his statement was echoed, not by the chief only, but by the whole group, might well strike Gerard.

"You know him--you know them?" he said.

A humorous flash flitted across each dark face, the corners of every mouth turned down grimly. Sobuza proceeded to take snuff.

"Tell us about it," he said. "Begin at the very beginning, Jeriji, for this is no light matter."

Then Gerard began his tale--from the very outset of their enforced visit to the fastness of that redoubtable clan, throughout the period during which their condition had become one of open and undisguised captivity, down to his own headlong dash for liberty and succour, their untiring and persistent pursuit of him, and his perilous hiding-place on the river-bank. His feat in slaying the alligator caused great sensation; and Sobuza having ordered the rifle, on which was still spliced the broken knife, to be brought, he and his a.s.sembled chiefs examined this cleverly devised weapon with the greatest interest. Gerard went up a hundred per cent, in their estimation.

Now our friend's knowledge of the Zulu tongue comprised a prodigious number of words, but his grammar was of the shakiest description.

However, the vital importance of his narrative soon rendered him oblivious to any mere self-consciousness, and in his hearers he found a most eager and patient audience. Once or twice only did they interrupt him when his meaning was unintelligible, and then only to help him through. But, when he had finished, they questioned him on every conceivable detail, cross-examined him so deftly, that they had promptly got out of him his own plans, his own errand, without his being in the least aware of it. More than one there present knew "Jandosi," from trading trips which he had made among them.

"How many fighting men has Ingonyama, Jeriji?" said Sobuza again.