The Ruined Cities of Zululand Part 13

"We had better look out. See they have awoke, and are getting into line ready to charge us."

In fact the brutes seemed very savage, and so soon as they perceived the intruders on their solitude, they charged down the glen. Scrambling up a rock, the danger was easily avoided. The herd pa.s.sed on except one old cow with its young one, who halted after having gone some twenty yards, and turning deliberately round returned, gazing with apparently great curiosity at the white men. It was impossible to pa.s.s; and there stood the great lumbering animal fairly mounting guard over the two who, perched on the rock, were only wishful to be left alone.

There was nothing for it, however, but to get rid of the troublesome visitor; so, leaning the rifles on the flat rock on which they were lying, by agreement both aimed for the centre of the forehead. The two reports seemed as one, as for a moment the rhinoceros stood firmly, and then fell over into the river, dyeing the water with blood. It was a great size, measuring close upon twelve feet in length, and ten in girth, while the horns were so nearly matched that there was not a quarter of an inch difference between them. The openings of several caves were to be seen, and near one there appeared to have been some fight lately, for blood, evidently quite fresh, was lying about.

To this cave the two climbed, entering very cautiously. Chance had again favoured them, for there lay the leopard quite dead. Bones of different kinds were heaped about, showing that for a time at least it had been the abode of wild animals. It was about twenty feet high, and there were some curious carvings on the walls, the entrance having evidently been scarped down by the hand of man. Close to the doorway were two colossal carvings, as if to guard the mouth of the cave. Each represented the figure of a nearly naked warrior, having a covering only round the loins; and each held in his hand two spears, and not having any shield--in this widely differing from the present race. The faces of these figures seemed of an Arab type. There was no trace of door, but some broken remains would seem to indicate that the entrance had once been walled up, while close by lay a slab of stone bearing a tracing on it of the figure of the African elephant. There were many similar caverns here and there in the mountain-side.

"The sun is sinking, Wyzinski," said Hughes, "It will be impossible to retrace our way in the darkness, and the moon does not rise until eleven o'clock; we had better stay where we are."

"I am tired out," replied the missionary. "I don't doubt but that these caverns have once been the graves of the dead belonging to yonder city.

This may well serve for ours, only we must contrive a fire."

"Yes, or we may have the young leopard back, if Umhleswa's Spanish rifle has not done for him. We have still half an hour of daylight: the branches dragged down by the elephants lie in heaps down yonder, and are dry."

The half hour sufficed, a fire was lit at the entrance of the cave on the ledge outside, and the missionary, lying down, was soon buried in sleep.

The day had been very hot, and what with the excitement, fatigue, and want of nourishment, the two were tired out. Still Hughes determined to watch, as heaping wood on the fire, he placed his rifle on his knees, and leaned back in a sitting posture against the rock. Night came on; the cries of the animals began to be heard, and the jackals soon found out the carca.s.s of the rhinoceros. The stars were very brilliant, and the soldier sat thinking of the past, and peopling in imagination those fantastic ma.s.ses of fallen ruin which had once at that hour rang with bustle and merriment. The wind came in hot puffs, making the date and palmyra leaves rustle as they waved to and fro; the noise of the stream breaking over the fallen masonry was very monotonous, and soon the sentry found himself dozing. He rose, heaped fresh wood on the fire, looked out from the ledge into the night, listened to the cracking of the branches, which told him that elephants were not far off, and then again sat down.

The moon rose, silvering with its beams the finely-cut leaves of the tall palmyra and the broken ruins, shining on the human figure at the entrance of the cave, and gleaming on the bright barrel and lock of the English rifle; but the soldier slept on his post; the jackals fought over the carrion, the fire burned lower and lower, and finally went out.

Day was dawning, when a loud shout close to the mouth of the cavern woke both the soldier and the missionary, but only to find themselves surrounded by a band of the Amatonga warriors fully armed, while the savage eyes and filed teeth of their chief Umhleswa, seemed to give a more vindictive expression than ever to his repulsive face.

Volume 1, Chapter XI.

UMHLESWA'S BARGAIN.

The following day the whole kraal was in commotion, Umhleswa summoning the braves of the tribe around him in council, the white men not being deprived of their arms, but very closely watched. The a.s.sembly was a noisy one. On the one hand the native superst.i.tions invested the ruins with a sacred character, and the Amatonga chief had been placed where he was to prevent any access to them by Europeans. There could not be a doubt that the whole tribe had been guilty of negligence, their chief included, and that they were responsible to the king of Manica for what had happened. On the other, Masheesh, as the representative of his chief, loudly proclaimed the white men to be under Mozelkatse's protection, and demanded their safety, threatening a dire revenge if anything happened to them. The anger of so powerful and fierce a chief as Mozelkatse was to be dreaded. Umhleswa, too, was an ambitious man, and was not contented with his position as chief of a petty tribe. He coveted firearms, and these he could only obtain from the whites.

Without those arms he could do nothing, and the way to procure them was certainly not by putting to death the first white men who came among them. Umhleswa was cruel, vindictive, and unscrupulous, and he had, without hesitation, told the white men a deliberate untruth to hinder their seeking for the sacred ruins. His chance wound and subsequent insensibility upset his calculations; still he was very much averse to shedding their blood.

There was, however, a warrior of the tribe second only to himself in power--a man of another stamp, and famed for personal courage and deeds of daring. Between Sgalam and Umhleswa there had always been rivalry, and, on this occasion, the Amatonga brave took an entirely different view of the whole matter, openly blaming Umhleswa's conduct, and demanding the death of the white men as the only means of securing the safety of the tribe.

The result was long doubtful, and what between the chief's arguments and Masheesh's threats, the balance seemed in favour of clemency. The council was noisy, and divided in opinion. Umhleswa had just been showing in eloquent words the injustice of dooming to death men who had acted from ignorance, pointing out that they could not have known the sacred nature of the place they had invaded; and he seemed to be carrying with him the feelings of the tribe as they all squatted round in the inclosure on the hill-top, when Sgalam, roused to a last effort, strode straight up to Luji, who was listening open-mouthed, and laying his hand on the man's shoulder, "Here is one of their head-men," he said, with violence; "ask him if the white chiefs were not warned, ay, even in Mozelkatse's camp. Should they go free, Sgalam himself will denounce the folly in the council inclosure of Manica."

The baboon, seeing a hand laid on Luji, and doubtless thinking harm was meant him, at once flew at the orator, making his teeth meet in the man's arm, and chattering wildly.

The powerful savage, with one blow, dashed the animal to the ground, Luji, who was fairly roused, being in a great rage, threatening the chief with the white men's vengeance. A scene of confusion ensued, but Sgalam's eloquence decided the matter, and the verdict was death; the council breaking up without fixing when and in what manner the punishment was to be inflicted.

In the interior of the hut a.s.signed to the Europeans that night, all was quiet, and the two occupants were sound asleep. There was no door, but only a narrow entrance, across which a naked savage was sleeping, several others being thrown here and there outside, also fast asleep.

Midnight was long pa.s.sed, when a noise was heard near the opening, and the moonlight was for a moment obscured by two bodies pa.s.sing. Calling to Wyzinski, the soldier, who slept lightly, seized his pistols, but the voice of Masheesh was heard, speaking in low tones, as he stepped over the body of the sleeping sentry, followed by the second figure. It was not dark, the moon shining brightly outside, and Umhleswa's face and form was not one to be easily mistaken. He was naked save at the waist, his body smeared with oil, but wearing no distinctive mark of any kind, while his broad, flat nose, high cheek-bones, receding forehead, sharp filed teeth, and shining body, gave him even a more repulsive look than usual in the faint moonlight. Outside all was quiet save the usual cries of the jackals and hyenas hovering round the kraal, and the heavy breathing of the sleeping guard.

Seating himself on some skins, while Masheesh squatted down near the entrance, Umhleswa spoke.

"Have the white chiefs no fear of death," he asked, "that they sleep soundly?"

"No," replied the missionary, using the Zulu dialect; "we do not believe in it at your hands. We were travelling through the land, our safety insured by Mozelkatse's word. You sent for us and we came, consequently besides the safeguard of the king of the Matabele we have yours."

"If Mozelkatse's word be scorned," added the Matabele brave, "the land between the Suave and the Zambesi shall be dyed red with Amatonga blood, and the a.s.segai of Masheesh shall find the heart of their chief. The country shall be desert, and the tribe live only in the remembrance of the past."

"I have not come to the dwelling of the white men to hear this," replied Umhleswa, scornfully. "Will they promise, by their G.o.d, not to go near the fallen huts if set free?"

Both hesitated, for the desire to explore those ruins was strong in their minds, and both were willing to risk life to do so.

"We will make Umhleswa rich with presents, we will hunt for him the elephant and the rhinoceros, if he will not only allow us to see the ruined huts, but aid us with his men to lay them bare."

The dark eyes of the savage glistened at the thought of the presents, and he mused for several minutes, the silence being so deep that the breathing of the sleeping men could be distinctly heard outside. He spoke at last, but slowly--

"It may not be; send Umhleswa arms for his tribe; make him powerful enough not to heed the anger of the chief of Manica, and the fallen huts are the white men's. Do they know that death has been p.r.o.nounced against them, and do they know the kind of death they must meet?"

"It matters not what," replied the missionary; "we have faced it too often to fear it in any form."

"Death!" hissed out the savage, his eyes gleaming, and his white teeth shown in the half light, "by fire,--slow, but sure death. Will the white chiefs promise?"

"We promise," replied the missionary.

"Will they pay a ransom?" continued the savage.

"We have nothing to give; but we will return with presents."

The chief pointed to the rifles and pistols.

"Umhleswa would gladly have these, and when the white men return with more, he will take them also."

"They shall be yours, chief, when we cross the frontier, not before."

"Will the G.o.d of the white man send rain when his children ask for it?"

he inquired.

"If in his great power and infinite knowledge he thinks it is necessary," replied the missionary, a little jesuitically.

"Then," continued Umhleswa, "it is agreed. The white men promise not to hanker after the fallen houses, but to cross the frontier near the Zambesi, to give each a rifle, also that when they return they will bring a rich present for Umhleswa, giving him the means to resist the chief of Manica, and to laugh at his anger."

"It is agreed," replied the missionary.

"The white man speaking our language answers for his brother?" asked the savage.

"He shall answer for himself," replied the missionary.

Turning to the soldier, Wyzinski explained the terms of the bargain, pointing out that they were completely in the chief's power, and that he himself was fully determined to organise a party, and return to the ruins, in which case the protection of the savage would be valuable.

At the other end of the hut a violent discussion was going on between the Matabele brave and the Amatonga warrior, the former declaring that the white men must be brought back to Mozelkatse's country, the other remaining quite unmoved.

Hughes at once saw the truth of Wyzinski's explanation, and though he did not like to part with an old friend, made up his mind to do so, the more readily because he saw that Umhleswa could equally be in possession of the rifles by killing the whole party. He therefore rose, crossed to where the chief sat, and gave his hand in token of ratification.

"Good," said Umhleswa, rising; "and now let the white men sleep in peace." Stepping over the figures of his rec.u.mbent braves, the chief took his way in the moonlight, through the huts, even the dogs remaining silent as he pa.s.sed.

It was nearly dawn, and Masheesh having thrown himself down on the ground to sleep, the two white men, greatly relieved, sat discussing their future prospects. The freshness of the coming day had made itself felt already, the moonlight was growing more and more feeble, and still they sat talking of many things.

"We shall have plenty left to send the Matabele back a rich man," said the missionary.

"And as for Luji, I left his full pay and a handsome 'Bucksheesh' with my relative on the Umvoti," answered Hughes.