A Veldt Vendetta Part 18

"No, no. We mustn't seem afraid of them. Still, there's no harm in dropping a revolver into our right hand pockets, in case of accidents.

We'll talk to them here."

We went inside and quickly loaded a revolver apiece. At a word from her father Beryl got down her own pistol, loaded it, and tranquilly pocketed it. Poor little Iris was looking very scared, but was quite quiet.

"Keep these children entirely out of sight, Beryl," enjoined her father, "and it'll be no harm if you don't show yourself during the _indaba_.

There may be a lot of bl.u.s.ter and talking big; but it won't come to anything worse, so don't be scared, any of you."

"I wish Brian were here, father," said Beryl anxiously.

"So do I, but he isn't. And if ever you've known of a situation in which Brian has proved unable to take care of himself, I haven't. He'll be all right."

The dogs, which had been walking up and down outside, growling, now broke into such a clamour as to drown all speech, and charged furiously down upon the advancing Kafirs as the foremost came in sight round the bend of the cattle kraal, and would hardly be called off, even by their master's most imperative tones, aided by two or three kerries shied at them by the newcomers, an act in itself significant of the ugly and dangerous mood which was upon our unwelcome visitors.

"Seems as if we'd got the whole of Kuliso's location," said Septimus Matterson, as we took in the crowd which was advancing upon us. The kloof indeed seemed black with Kafirs. Those who had horses dismounted as they came in sight of the house, and the whole body of them came straight on with a fellness of purpose that augured the worst.

It was a tense moment. Our unpleasantness with the people at the kraal on our way in pursuit of the stolen oxen was nothing to this for a situation. There must have been hundreds and hundreds of Kafirs here; hulking, ochre-smeared barbarians, some of gigantic stature, all with an expression of menace and determination and ferocity upon their savage faces. Others, too, were coming on in the distance to swell their numbers. My hand was closed round the b.u.t.t of the revolver in my pocket. I looked at Septimus Matterson. He had not moved, and was still standing, calm and undismayed, confronting the furious and threatening rout.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A FELL ALTERNATIVE.

"Halt!"

Septimus Matterson put forth his hand and uttered just the one word, and the effect was like fire applied to the train. A roar of menace and fury ran through the whole crowd. A forest of dark grisly hands seemed to tighten with murderous grip upon kerries, and a.s.segais were shaken at us; but the injunction was obeyed. The foremost were about fifty paces from us, and others came swarming up in the background, forming an immense half circle.

"We have come for the boy. He must die. He has slain two of our sons-- and they are of the House of Kuliso. He must die."

Such was the promising manner in which negotiations were opened. Now I had been studying the Xosa tongue rather diligently since I had been at Gonya's Kloof, and had acquired quite a smattering of it. Septimus Matterson, of course, spoke it perfectly.

"Were they of the house of the chief?" he said. "But where is Kuliso?"

"Bring out the boy," they roared in response. "He must die. He has taken two lives, and he must die twice. Bring him out, _Umlungu_, or it will be the worse for all of you."

"Hear now, _amadoda_" came the reply, "the thing was an accident, entirely an accident, and for it I will make due and complete compensation according to your custom. Retire now and carry my word to Kuliso and his _amapakati_, for surely I see no man of any note here."

This was indeed the case, and augured the worst. The wily chiefs could plead afterwards that any outrage that might occur was the work of an irresponsible mob. The latter, in no wise pacified, broke forth again.

"Compensation? Not so. Blood for blood. A life for a life--or rather for two lives. That is the word of the people. And the two lives were of the house of the chief. Bring out the boy. Bring him out."

The wild hubbub of voices grew louder and louder, and the ferocious crowd closed in upon us nearer and nearer. Sticks were brandished, and I could see more than one ruffian handling his a.s.segai all ready for a cast. It was a fearful moment. Our lives seemed to hang upon a hair-- and worse, for were we struck down or a.s.segaied, would these barbarians, in the fury of their blood l.u.s.t, spare one living being within that house?

"Shall we get inside and shoot?" I said hurriedly and in a low tone, without turning my face from the enemy.

"No. We'd do no good that way. The bl.u.s.ter may wear itself out."

"Attend, _Umlungu_," called out one great voice. "If the boy is not handed over to us immediately, we will take him. But first of all we will kill all here."

"You will have to do that first, Sibuko," was the stern reply, "and in doing it many of yourselves will die."

Sibuko! I remembered the name, and now, looking at its wearer, I remembered him. It was the big Kafir to whom Brian had administered a well-deserved thrashing on the morning after my arrival, and now this ruffian was the leading spirit of the whole ferocious crew. We were indeed in a bad way. It was manifest that no white man could surrender his son into the power of these savages, even apart from their curiously significant promise that he should die "twice." But--the way out?

"This is what shall be done," went on Matterson. "The boy shall be sent into the town to be tried by the magistrate. The laws of the Government are there, and are for all. Kuliso cannot make his own laws, unless the Amandhlambe are prepared to make war upon the Government. When a white man kills another he is tried and punished for it. When a Kafir kills another the same happens. Both are punished by the same laws, the laws of the Government."

I thought I observed a tendency among them to cool down at these words, but that ruffian Sibuko walked up and down, haranguing them and flourishing his kerrie, and in the result a number of them went round to the back of the house. Well, this did not distress us much. We thought that Beryl would know what to do in such an emergency.

"The boy!" they howled again. "Give him up to us, or we will kill you all and roast you in the flames of your burning house. Now, _Umlungu_, bring out the boy."

Septimus Matterson put up his hand. The clamour stilled.

"Listen," he said, and his voice rang out loud and clear. "You shall not have the boy. We hold twelve lives here," drawing his revolver and pointing it, an example I promptly followed. "Before you kill us twelve men shall die. You know me."

The silence that followed upon the tumult was well-nigh alarming. The clamourous savages had imagined that they had two unarmed men to deal with, and now the sight of two business-like six-shooters pointed straight at them seemed to throw a different light on affairs. They were hundreds, it was true. But that twelve men, or near it, would certainly fall before they could reach us they fully realised, the point of which was that none of them wanted to const.i.tute one of the twelve.

I stole a sidelong look at Septimus Matterson, and thought to discover something of what had daunted them, for his face wore the aspect of the strong, quiet man thoroughly roused, and, more dangerous still, deadly cool through it all. At the same time came Beryl's voice from the other side of the house, sharp and clear upon the silence, saying in their tongue--

"These two guns are heavily loaded with buckshot. I will pour all four barrels into the ma.s.s of you if you make a step forward. After that I still hold six lives."

Looking back, I can hardly ever have gone through a more strained crisis of tense excitement than that moment afforded. The great crescent of ochre-smeared, infuriated savages seemed to shrink into itself, as though concentrating for a decisive rush, and indeed I don't care to think what the next moment might have brought forth had not a diversion occurred.

Coming up the kloof at a swift canter were four mounted figures.

Police? No. Three of them were Kafirs, the fourth a white man.

"_Au_! _Namhlanje_!" went up from the crowd, and heads were turned to watch the new arrivals.

Now "Namhlanje" was Brian's native name, which, meaning "to-day," had been bestowed upon him as characterising his quick decisive way of doing things, and when linked with it was uttered another name, Usivulele, I began to think the crisis was past, for the name was that of one of the Ndhlambe chiefs, whose influence was hardly inferior to that of Kuliso himself.

Hostilities were suspended pending the arrival of these, and, as they rode up, the threatening and tumultuous clamour was changed into deep-toned salutations addressed to the chief.

The latter was a well-built elderly man, with no insignia of chieftainship about him, not even the thick ivory armlet which he wore just above the left elbow, for several of his followers wore this adornment too. But the deference displayed towards him by this unruly mob, that told its own tale. For such is the prestige and authority of a tribal chief among the Amaxosa that if you have him on your side in any dispute with his subjects, why, the matter is settled. That now Usivulele was upon our side I had no doubt, seeing that Brian was riding with him. The other two were old men with grizzled heads, and were _amapakati_, or councillors. Way was at once made for the group, and a rush to hold their horses as they dismounted.

"I see a chief," said Septimus Matterson in figurative greeting--he had already put away his revolver, and so had I, with a feeling of relief it would be impossible to exaggerate. "Now we can talk."

"My heart is very sore over what has happened, my friend," he went on.

"Yet he who has done this thing is a child, and he has done it by accident. When a child does that for which a grown man would be killed, he is not killed because he is only a child. He is not killed, but he is punished. Is it not so?"

The three uttered a murmur of a.s.sent. Brian said nothing.

"Well, then, although this thing was an accident, and although the child is my own son, I do not propose to shield him from punishment. But it is not for me, and it is not for these here, to decide on what punishment he shall receive. It is for the law. Therefore I am going to send to Fort Lamport for the _amapolise_, and the boy will be taken to the magistrate there. After that we must leave him to the laws of the Government. Say. Is not that just and fair?"

"_Ewa_," a.s.sented the three, and I observed that a like murmur went up from not a few in the listening crowd.

"_Hau_!" broke forth one voice. "What of our father, Kuliso? Those who are killed were of his house."

The interruption had proceeded from Sibuko. The hulking ruffian, standing there in the forefront, his muscular frame smeared from head to foot with red ochre, a vengeful sneer upon his savage face as he significantly gripped his kerries, struck me as about as evil and formidable an impersonation of barbarism as it would be possible to present.

"Yes. What of our father, Kuliso?" echoed others. But Usivulele merely waved a hand, and there was silence as by magic.