The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley Part 20

"_Hau_! This begins to look like _tagati_," [witchcraft] muttered Vunawayo, scowlingly. "And 'The Tooth' is near."

"Take ten cows then," said Ingonyama with a sigh. And he stretched forth his hand to take the skin. But Dawes did not tender it.

"Where are the cows?" he said. "May I not see them?"

"They are out grazing now, _Umlungu_. At milking-time they will be here. Then they shall be driven to your herd."

"Quite so. And then the skin shall be carried to your hut, O chief,"

returned Dawes, coolly. "And now I will drive my waggons hence and outspan them outside the kraal." Then he proceeded to give orders to his native servants as unconcernedly as though he were starting from Maritzburg instead of moving through the armed ranks of hundreds of lawless and turbulent savages.

In the evening the ten head of cattle were duly delivered. They were indifferent-looking beasts for the most part. Dawes surveyed them critically.

"I don't know that old Ingonyama hasn't done us now, Ridgeley," he said.

"These are weedy looking brutes, but three, or perhaps four of them, ain't bad; and I suppose we must take what we can get. I shall be glad enough to say good-bye to this place, and as soon as the stock and things are rested, we will try our hand at trekking away. And now let's take the skin over."

Followed by Sintoba, bearing the lion's skin, the two proceeded to Ingonyama's hut. As before, the chief was seated outside on a bullock-hide, with Vunawayo and half a dozen other _amakehla_, or ringed men, around him. This time he waxed quite friendly and conversational, and invited his involuntary visitors to sit down and drink _tywala_.

This liquor, which is a species of beer brewed from maize or millet, was brought in huge bowls of baked clay. A gourd was apportioned to the two white men, but the Zulus contented themselves with the simple process of picking up the clay bowl and drinking therefrom; and Gerard, who had seen some beer-drinking among natives, still found room for astonishment over the enormous quant.i.ties which his present entertainers were able to absorb.

The sun had gone down, and the afterglow had faded red on the surrounding cliffs, then merged into the pearly grey of twilight. The picturesque circle of the great kraal was alive with the figures of its wild denizens, lounging in groups or stalking among the huts. Files of girls returning from the spring, calabash on head, made melody on the evening air, lifting up their voices in song as they walked; and though the strain was monotonous and barbaric, the effect was not unpleasing; and the deep tone of men's voices mingled with the shrill laughter and shriller shriek of children. The wavy glow of fires shone out upon the deepening twilight, and above the domed huts rose many a smoke reek.

"What a strange rock that is," remarked Gerard, referring to the great solitary pyramid which we have already described, and which, looming out in its isolation, seemed to gain in size. "What is it called?"

"It is called _Izinyo_--'The Tooth,'" answered Vunawayo, after a momentary hesitation on the part of any one to reply.

"That is a strange name," said Gerard. "Is it so-called because of its shape?"

"And because _it eats_."

"It eats!" echoed Gerard, mystified. "How? What does it eat?"

"Wizards, and--other people," said Vunawayo, darkly. And both Gerard and Dawes thought they saw more than one significant look exchanged, and both remembered the muttered remark of their informant while they were chaffering over the lion's skin. That remark stood now explained, and in a very grim and boding sense did the explanation strike them.

Note 1. The salute royal, only accorded to the king, as distinct from the "Inkose" or "Baba" ("Chief Father"), employed in hailing a lesser potentate.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"THE TOOTH."

In announcing his hearty desire to bid good-bye to the Igazipuza kraal as soon as possible, John Dawes had stated no more than the barest truth, but its fulfilment seemed destined to be postponed indefinitely, failing the conversion to his views of the Igazipuza themselves. They, apparently, did not share his aspiration. They were not nearly so anxious to part with him as he was to part with them, and objected most strenuously to all and every suggestion to that end. In sum, he and his companion and servants, and all their possessions, were practically prisoners. Ingonyama's motives in thus holding them in restraint they were up till now at a loss to fathom. It was not trade, for they had long since bartered everything negotiable. It certainly was not friendship, for the chief's manner had become sullen and distrustful, not to say gruff. John Dawes, who understood natives thoroughly, and knew that they are nothing if not practical, confessed himself utterly baffled, failing a motive.

Once they had actually inspanned, but before they had trekked half a mile from the kraal they were met by a large force of armed warriors, and deliberately turned back. There was no help for it. Might was right, and comply they must. But, after that, under pretence that the chief had forbidden any grazing within a certain radius of the kraal, all their trek-oxen were driven away to a small outlying kraal in a distant corner of the hollow. No obstruction was placed in the way of them looking after the animals, counting them occasionally, and so forth. But any attempt at inspanning was very promptly frustrated.

As with the chief, so with his followers. Taking their cue from him, these had become more and more insolent, ruffianly, and bullying in their demeanour. They would swagger around the waggons, hustle and annoy Sintoba and the other native servants, pull things about, and behave in general in such fashion as would almost put to the blush a crowd of the worst kind of British yahoos. Once, indeed, yielding to an uncontrollable impulse of exasperation, Gerard had given one of these sportive young savages a sound thrashing. It was an imprudent not to say a perilous thing to do. But again a bold att.i.tude answered, and the Igazipuza became a little more respectful.

Days had merged into weeks, and weeks had almost lengthened into months, and still no chance of getting away. Taking Sintoba into complete confidence the pair would, on such few occasions as they could find themselves absolutely and entirely beyond the reach of prying eyes and ears, discuss the situation earnestly and in all its bearings. The only motive either Dawes or Sintoba could guess at was that an Anglo-Zulu war was imminent, if it had not actually broken out. This would supply a sufficient reason for their detention. Ingonyama was holding them as hostages. In the event of hostilities with the British, his intention was probably to carry them captive to the king's kraal. Or he might be keeping them with the design of sacrificing them to the manes of such members of his clan who might eventually be slain. This aspect of the case was not a pleasant one.

Seldom indeed could they feel sure they were out of hearing of their gaolers, out of sight never. The latter were ever around them, on one pretext or another. If they so much as strolled down to a water-hole to take a swim, a group of armed warriors was sure to start up at some unexpected point, and hover around them until their return. If they rode out to see how their stock was getting on, it was the same thing, a band was sure to make-believe to be proceeding in the same direction, and they had long since ascertained that the sole entrance to the place was indefatigably watched and strongly guarded day and night. Now, all this surveillance, at first galling and irksome in the extreme, eventually became more serious in its results. It told upon their nerves. It was ominous--depressing. They were as completely shut away from the outer world in this wild and remote fastness of the Igazipuza as though shipwrecked on a desert island. Those grey cliff walls that encircled them became hateful, horrible, repellent. They were even as the walls of a tomb.

"Well, Ridgeley, I own this is getting serious," said Dawes, one morning as they sat on the waggon-box moodily smoking the pipe of bitter reflection. "And the worst of it is I see no way out of it. I've been in a queer corner or two in my time, but never did I feel so thoroughly like a rat in a trap as now. There's no way of climbing these infernal cliffs; leastways, not with our horses, and without them, we might almost as well stop here, for we should be overhauled and lugged back to a dead certainty. The way we came up is no go, either."

"No, it isn't," agreed Gerard, despondently. "I don't want to croak, Dawes; but it strikes me the tenure of our lives is not worth a great deal to any one who thought to do a good spec by purchasing it."

The suspense, the daily, hourly apprehension under which they lived, had made its mark upon Gerard, and even his cheerful spirits and sunny good humour had begun to fail him. He thought of his young life, and the joy and exhilaration of living which until lately had been his. He thought of those he had left behind him in the Old Country. But, most of all, full oft and continually--and he had plenty of time for thinking, little else, in fact--he thought of May Kingsland, and that bright golden day and happy peaceful evening he had spent in her society. How would she feel, he wondered, when she came to hear of his death--G.o.d grant it might not be a barbarous and lingering one--at the hands of cruel and merciless savages?

"Don't lose heart, Ridgeley, whatever you do," said Dawes, looking at him earnestly. "The situation is pretty black, but, please Heaven, we'll get through to talk over it snug and safe at home one of these days. The worst of it is that it's all my doing you're in this fix at all. That's what I blame myself for, my lad."

"Then don't think of doing that," returned Gerard, with all his old alacrity. "Aren't we in it together, share and share alike, risks as well as good times. Come now, Dawes, if I think you're bothering over that, it'll go far towards knocking the bottom out of me. Hang it all, can't we get on the horses some dark night, and make a dash for it?"

"We can't, Ridgeley, and for this reason. It would simply be the death warrant of all our people if we succeeded, and of ourselves if we didn't. I'm not a more straight-laced chap than most, but, you see, I can't exactly bring myself to slope off and leave Sintoba and the rest of them in the lurch. No. We must either march out as we came, with all the honours of war, or--stay here."

"I never thought of it from that point of view, I admit," said Gerard.

"There is another scheme I've been plotting, but it don't pan out overmuch," went on Dawes. "If one could manage to smuggle you out, by hook or by crook, you might find your way to Ulundi, and lay the case before the king, always provided there's no such thing as a British war, of course. But, bar that event, Cetywayo would soon bring Master Ingonyama to book. He's a straight man, is Cetywayo, and well-disposed towards Englishmen, though we have been badgering him more than enough of late. But he'd never allow a couple of British subjects to be put upon in this outrageous manner by one of his own subordinate chiefs."

"By Jove! that is an idea," said Gerard. "But would it be better than knocking up a rescue expedition among our own people--in Natal for instance?"

"Rather. About five hundred per cent, better. Why such an expedition would mean a young war, and do you think Government would embark on that for the sake of a brace of poor devils of traders? Not much. It'd say we travelled at our own risk, and if we'd got into difficulties we must get out of them on the same terms. Even if otherwise, just think of the red tape! No. My plan is the best, and, I'm afraid, the only one."

For a few moments both men sat puffing at their pipes in silence.

Gerard felt his pulses beginning to throb already with the excitement and prospect of such an adventure. Then he said--

"It won't do, Dawes; I'm not going to leave you. We must go out together or not at all."

"That's no sort of good sense," was the other's rejoinder. "I shall be all right here, and it's the only way out of the difficulty."

"But, on your own showing, they will take it out of you," urged Gerard, speaking quickly. "Didn't you give that as a reason just now for not leaving Sintoba and the others behind? You go, and leave me to take my chance here."

"Yes; but the cases are different, I can manage them better. You see, I understand them thoroughly, and you, after all, are a good bit of a novice. Still, you know enough of the country and people to get along among them, and find your way to Ulundi as quick as possible; but if you were left here on your own hook you'd likely make a mess of it. Tell the first you meet you are the bearer of a message to the king, and they will be bound to help you. They dare not refuse. We must pan out the thing, though, with every care. The main difficulty will, of course, be that of getting you clear out of this place, in the first instance. The rest is simplicity itself in comparison."

In the dead of night, by the light of a lantern, the two would sit in the waggon-tent, while Dawes, with surprising accuracy, drew from memory, and in as small a compa.s.s as possible, a map of that section of the Zulu country which comprised their present place of captivity and the king's capital and night after night, with their heads together, they would sit studying this rough plan, while Dawes pointed out the general features of the country--the lay of the mountains and the most convenient and least frequented route to be chosen. With extra good luck, he reckoned Gerard might make Ulundi in a little over two days-- with ordinary luck it might take him four. But that Cetywayo would order their immediate release he never entertained or uttered the smallest doubt.

One day Gerard saddled up his pony, and started off alone to see how their stock was getting on. And, indeed, it really seemed that he was alone, for strange to say, none of the Igazipuza offered to accompany him, nor did he meet with a soul on the way. But between seeing n.o.body and being himself seen by n.o.body, he well knew there lay a wide difference, and he must be careful accordingly; indeed, he almost began to fear that this unwonted immunity from surveillance concealed a trap-- was designed to draw him into some indiscretion, which might be turned into a reason for his destruction.

The intense longing to escape, however, soon overweighed all prudential consideration to the extent of causing him to scan for the fiftieth time every cranny and crevice in the face of the cliffs, which might by any chance afford exit. Surely there was some such--a cleft, a gnarled tree, a concealed pa.s.sage. Hardly could he believe there was not. But, even as heretofore, he could not find it, and despondently he once more turned his horse to ride back to the waggons.

Suddenly the animal shied, and dropping his nose to the ground sniffed at something and then backed away, snorting. The white round object which had caused the alarm needed no second glance. It was a human skull.

Yet another lay there, its fleshless eye-holes staring upward from the gra.s.s. Scattered around were fragments of broken bones.

Gerard looked up. In his meditative fit he had ridden abstractedly, not seeing where he was going. Now he found himself at the foot of a great rock, and a cold shiver ran through his frame, for he recognised it as the rock called _Izinyo_, "The Tooth." It was the rock of slaughter--"the tooth that eats," as Vunawayo had grimly put it.

For various reasons he had always avoided this locality. He had no sort of an inclination to explore it--very much the reverse--and he feared lest in doing so he might unconsciously be offending the superst.i.tions of the people. Now, thus brought by chance to its very base, he looked up at it with a cold, creepy sensation of shuddering awe. He contemplated it much as a Liberty, Equality and Fraternity "citizen"

during the thick of the Reign of Terror, may have contemplated the guillotine, as an inst.i.tution with which he might any day be called upon to cultivate a much closer acquaintance.

He looked down at the shattered bones, then up at the cliff. This was the mode of death then. The victims were taken to the summit of this latter-day Tarpeian rock and hurled therefrom. But as he looked something seemed to be flapping softly against the face of the cliff high overhead. Ropes? _Reims_? Were people then _hanged_ from the brow--not merely thrown over? Hanging was not a Zulu method of slaughter. Gerard was more mystified than ever.