The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley Part 19

Lo! the prey comes home of itself To the Lion's den, Where the Lion's cubs grow fat On the blood of men.

Ha, ha, ha!

Grow fat on the blood of men!"

The repet.i.tion of this ferocious refrain was, under the circ.u.mstances, anything but rea.s.suring; the fell imagery of it only too alarmingly plain. Were they not indeed walking of themselves right into the "lion's den"--the lair of this savage and freebooting chieftain whose very name meant lion in the Zulu language! However, there was nothing for it but to preserve a cool and unconcerned demeanour, as the singing warriors drew near; and thus marshalled, amid an indescribable din, the shrill chatter of women and children, the clamourous yelping of a hundred curs, mingling with the rattle of shields and a.s.segai hafts, the rumble of tramping feet and the deep-toned, measured war-chant of the warriors, our two friends made their entrance into the Igazipuza kraal, after a fashion which, as Gerard remarked, was a cross between a procession to the scaffold and a Caesar's triumph.

Dawes had wanted to leave the waggons outside, but this his escort--or captors--would not hear of. They must all enter, had urged the latter.

To act otherwise would be to make the reception invalid, maimed, unlucky. They could go out again afterwards if they liked, and Dawes for his part sincerely wished they might.

Large as it was, the open s.p.a.ce in the centre of the kraal, was nearly filled up with the two waggons and spans of oxen, besides their cattle and small stock which had been driven into it. A bush had now fallen upon the swarming throng, for Dawes had intimated his desire immediately to see the chief; and heads were bent forward in eager curiosity, and voices were hushed to whispers as, escorted by a group of ringed men, he and Gerard, leaving their waggons in charge of Sintoba and the other driver, but still inspanned, were ushered upon that errand.

The chief's hut was no larger than the others, nor was there anything to distinguish it from them, except perhaps an open s.p.a.ce in front of it.

It faced, too, a gate in the inner kraal, and through this our two friends were marshalled accordingly.

The chief, Ingonyama, was a large, stoutly built Zulu of about fifty.

He had a shrewd, intelligent face, and his shaven head, surmounted by the inevitable _isicoco_ or ring, rendered his high broad forehead almost commandingly lofty. His jaw was square and resolute, but there was a shifty look in his somewhat deep-set eyes--a look of cunning which was uncomfortably suggestive of treachery. His nails, after the custom of Zulus of rank, were enormously long and claw like. Such was the outward appearance of the chief of the redoubted Igazipuza.

He was seated on a dried bullock-hide in front of his hut. A large white war-shield was held above his head to shelter him from the sun.

Beside him sat his favourite _induna_, and in the mighty frame and evil countenance of this man, our two friends recognised the rival hunter who had so inopportunely stepped between them and their game a few days previously, Vunawayo.

Dawes, knowing in such matters, and, moreover, keenly alive to all that pa.s.sed, observed that the head-ringed men, who had marshalled them into the presence of the chief, sainted the latter with almost royal acclamation, although they did not give the "_Bayete_," [Note 1], a fact which, taken with the white shield held above Ingonyama's head--a royal custom--struck him as significant. He, himself, merely greeted the chief in the ordinary way, "_Saku bona_."

The greeting was acknowledged, rather stiffly. Then Ingonyama spoke--

What he saw before him was strange, he said. Here was a man who spoke with their tongue fluently, though a white man--who was conversant with their customs. Yet this man, with his companion, appeared before him with arms in hand, came right up to him, their host and entertainer, holding guns. And the chief cast a meaning glance at the weapons.

"Yes, I allow it isn't precisely in accordance with good manners, as Zulus understand them, to do this," returned Dawes. "But then neither is it for a crowd of people to rush into my camp and kill three men under my nose--insist on my accompanying them whither I don't particularly want to go--and drive off my cattle in that same direction to ensure my following them. Yet this is what your people have done, O chief of the Igazipuza."

"Am I armed?" spake Ingonyama, very conveniently ignoring the other's explanation and complaint. "Behold me," stretching forth his hands; "I have not even a stick."

This was true. Yet if the redoubted head of the Igazipuza could afford to sit unarmed, surrounded by his fierce warriors, in perfect safety, it was an experiment which Dawes, in the light of recent experience, had no intention of trying. Indeed, as regarded himself and his companion, he considered it a highly dangerous one. To submit to coercion well-gilded and concealed like a pill, was good policy up to a certain point. When such coercion took the form of open and undisguised bullying, to submit was impolitic. In fact Dawes had resolved at all costs not to submit.

"It is as the chief says," he replied. "But if the chief is not armed, all his people are, and they are numerous. Now we are but two men--we are our own chiefs and people, too. Under these circ.u.mstances it is our custom to carry arms, and it is a custom we cannot lay aside."

"_Whau_! This white man has a valiant tongue," muttered Vunawayo with a sneer.

"And now, O chief, we will begin by demanding redress," went on Dawes in vigorous pursuance of his policy of boldness. "Your people have treated us with something very like hostility--have forced us out of our way-- and have over-driven our cattle and oxen. Yet we are not at war with the people of Zulu, nor have we quarrel with any tribe or clan within the same."

"Surely there is a mistake," spoke Ingonyama. "The hostility you mention is but their method of showing delight. They hoped to help make you rich by bringing you hither to trade. What have you got to sell?"

"Before I trade here, O Ingonyama, there is another matter I would speak about," said Dawes. "With our waggons were certain Amaswazi. These people have been set upon by your warriors and three of them killed.

What now shall we say when their chiefs ask, 'Where are our children whom we hired to you to drive your cattle? Where are they, that they return not to their own land?'"

"But they were not your servants, _Umlungu_," said Vunawayo. "Were they not already fleeing to their own land, when our people met them and _turned them back_? They had broken faith with you."

"Yet what shall we say when their chiefs ask for their return?" pursued Dawes. "What reply can we make?"

"Reply? Say? Say that the spears of the Igazipuza are sharp," returned Vunawayo with an evil laugh.

"I think we have talked enough concerning a few Swazi dogs," said Ingonyama, taking snuff. "And now, _abelungu_, what have you got to sell?"

"Yes. What have you got to sell?" echoed a chorus of voices from the spectators. And then the two, glancing around noticed that they were encompa.s.sed by a considerable force of armed warriors, who had gathered in groups, casually and as if by accident, but in reality with meaning and design.

The chief had risen, and intimated his intention of proceeding to the waggons. Dawes, recognising the necessity of extreme wariness, offered no further objection. The armed warriors poured into the central s.p.a.ce till it was full to overflowing, while others cl.u.s.tered about the outer side of the fence like a swarm of bees.

Ingonyama was graciously pleased to accept a large pannikin of gin-and-water, which, having half emptied, he pa.s.sed on to his _induna_ Vunawayo. He further relaxed over the gift of some snuff and a few other things of no great value intrinsically. With each present a chorus of thanks burst from the throats of all the spectators. This became a perfect roar as a gaudy umbrella, striped with all the colours of the rainbow, was added to the gifts.

"What is this?" said the chief, now in high good humour, laying his hand on a great tufted ta.s.sel-like thing, which protruded from a bale.

"This? A skin. Fine one, isn't it?" answered Dawes, dragging it forth.

And, unrolling it, he spread out the skin of a huge lion. A great shout went up.

"_Hau_! The thing that roars! the thing that roars!" cried the warriors, in accordance with the strange custom which obliged them to use some other term to express the word which happened to be the name of their chief.

[_Ingonyama_, means "a lion."]

Ingonyama's eyes sparkled.

"Wonderful!" he cried. "Wonderful! It is, indeed, a great skin!

_Whau_!" And spreading it out, he stood contemplating it admiringly, walking around it and every now and then stooping to touch the ma.s.sive mane, the great tufted tail.

And in fact a fine skin it was, and had been well taken off and preserved--head and claws complete--even the skull, with the jaws and teeth.

"And was it this one hole that let out the life?" said the chief, pointing to a single bullet-hole fair between the eyes. Dawes nodded.

"And where was it killed?"

"In Swaziland. I killed it."

"_Ha_! My ghost has grown fat and large upon Swazi dogs," said Ingonyama, the reference being to the Zulu belief that every man has one or more guardian spirits which take the shape of some animal, and his of course, would be the lion. "I would possess it," he went on. "What is the price?"

"I had not intended to trade it," answered Dawes. "But since you particularly want it, Ingonyama, ten cows is the price."

"_Au_!" cried the chief, with well-feigned amazement. "It is not worth five. Ten cows? _Mamo_! Was ever such a thing heard!"

"I told you I did not want to trade the skin. You asked me my price and I have named it. It is too high. Good. We are both satisfied." And Dawes proceeded to roll up the skin with the most perfect coolness.

"Wait--wait! Do not be in a hurry. Let us talk," said Ingonyama, while a murmur of astonished indignation went up from the warriors. Who was this dog of a white man who laughed at the wishes of their chief! They began to grip their a.s.segais significantly.

"It is too dear," went on Ingonyama. "Yet I would have it. Take seven cows."

"My price is ten, and it is not a great price. Consider. If the chief of the Igazipuza were taking a new wife, he would require to pay more than that for her. Is not a splendid lion's skin like this of more value than the mere price of a girl? Look at the size of it, the strength and blackness of the mane, the fine preservation of the head and teeth."

And again the trader jerked open the skin, before the eyes of the covetous chief.

"_Ha_!" said the latter. "I am not sure it will be a lucky deal for me.

The lion is my 'ghost,' _Umlungu_, and see! this one has a ball between the eyes--between the eyes has its life been let out."

"May that never be your own lot, Ingonyama," said Dawes. And as he uttered the words some strange instinct moved him to fix his eyes full upon those of the chief. Under the circ.u.mstances the look was a significant one.