The Ruined Cities of Zululand Part 19

"Indeed," replied the other, "I am little likely to forget it. I shall always think it was the excitement, and the prostration consequent on the hunt, which so nearly consigned me to an African grave."

"Tell me the tale," cried Isabel. "I long to hear your adventures among the tribes of the interior. It seems so strange for us to meet here on this great African river."

The conversation was carried on in French; and the soldier told of their travels; told how the baboon had first been found; how it had lived in the camp, and how it had died. The chess-players were disturbed by the silvery peals of laughter which rang round them as Hughes related, with some humour, the incident of the powder-flask; and Dona Isabel's dark eyes had been fixed for a long time on the speaker's face ere the tale was finished, and the sun sank beneath the horizon, the stars peeping out, while the fire-flies came floating around, and the cool puffs of the sea breeze swept across the river.

"Sing for us, Isabel," said Dom Francisco, as he checkmated his antagonist, at the same time rising and making him a stately bow.

Dona Isabel took her guitar, and the sweet tones of her voice rang out among the trellised vines and over the broad river, dying away on the plains beyond, where the howl of the jackal was just making itself heard.

"You will give me my revenge, Senhor Maxara," asked the Commandant.

"Nay, Dom Isidore, not possible--at least, until you do me the high honour of becoming my guest in our own land. We must leave to-morrow evening."

"And the Dona Isabel," asked Mujaio. "Is she, too, in such a hurry to leave Senna?"

"The Dona Isabel must abide by her father's decision," she replied; "but she may have a word to say to Dom Maxara on the subject."

Rising, Isabel took her father's arm, and leading him towards the river side, seemed to urge something, to which he would not consent.

"Impossible, Isabel; wholly so. The brig is an English trader, bound for the Cape, and takes us only as pa.s.sengers. Her captain cannot delay beyond the stipulated day; but come, we will do our best."

"My daughter, Dom Isidore has been urging our stay at Senna for some days longer, but I am forced to say nay. You, gentlemen," continued the ceremonious old n.o.ble, bowing first to the missionary, then to the soldier, "seek to return to the Cape; will you so far honour my daughter and myself as to accompany us?"

The soldier's face flushed with pleasure. It was just what he could have desired. Wyzinski courteously declined, urging that they must wait until the "Alert" gun brig should touch at Quillimane, as they were without funds, and unable to pay their pa.s.sage to the Cape.

A stately wave of the hand from Dom Francisco followed this matter-of-fact declaration, which wounded the soldier to the quick. He almost hated Wyzinski, and yet the determination had been come to that morning, on hearing of the advent of the "Alert."

"The brig 'Halcyon' waits us at Quillimane," persisted the n.o.ble. "She is chartered by my government to convey me, its envoy, to the Cape, and can take no pa.s.sengers, but is bound to receive my suite and guests.

Will the senhors honour us by becoming the latter?"

"And you may, indeed, help us," interposed Isabel, fixing her dark eyes on the missionary. "What shall we do on board an English brig, with no one to understand us. But will not the senhor be too weak if we leave to-morrow?"

As she stood there, with the stars s.h.i.+ning upon her, and the fire-flies playing like an aureole round her head, it occurred to Hughes that he was strong enough to follow her anywhere. The missionary looked at him inquiringly.

"Every day will bring me strength," he replied; "and I shall be very glad to get to the sea once more. Senhor Dom Francisco Maxara, I accept your kind and generous offer, with many thanks."

"And I also," joined in Wyzinski.

"Then, Senhor Commandant, we will start to-morrow evening. I shall leave my staff here until the surveys, estimates, and plans be completed, and you shall have your revenge when you come home."

"All shall be in readiness," replied Mujaio, as he took a whistle from his neck, and sounded a shrill call. A boat shot across the stream from the fort; the noise of the oars straining in the rowlocks was heard, and the bowman jumped ash.o.r.e, holding the boat's painter in his hand.

"Good-night, gentlemen," said the n.o.ble. "I shall have much business to transact with the Senhor Commandant to-morrow, and may not see you. My daughter, Dona Isabel, will hope to have that pleasure in my absence.

The smaller of the two boats allotted us you will look upon as yours."

Moving towards the river, his daughter on his arm, the stately Portuguese took off his broad-brimmed hat most courteously. Senhor Mujaio followed, having first handed the missionary the silver whistle.

"When you require the boat you have only to use this. Good-night, gentlemen."

A dark spot shot off from the bank into the starlight; the noise of the oars was again heard, and then the sound of a merry Portuguese air, in the chorus of which even the boatmen joined, though the soft, silvery female voice told who was the princ.i.p.al singer. Then the dark shadow thrown across the river received the boat, and all was silent. With a sigh of gratification, Hughes threw himself back on the cus.h.i.+ons.

"Well, there is our future provided for," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Who would have thought of meeting such a divine creature here, Wyzinski? Fancy such a jewel shut up in that crumbling old fort. Why, the Amatongas even could take it."

"There is a much more warlike tribe here to the north, named the Landeens, who have taken it more than once," replied the missionary.

"And might do so again," mused the other, "this very night."

"Don't you think you might utilise your light infantry education?" asked Wyzinski.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean if you were to run away, as you did from the hippopotamus."

"What, run away from the Landeens?"

"No, from the lady," laughed Wyzinski; "I think it would be the wisest plan."

"Don't be a fool, Wyzinski; I am not strong enough to bear chaffing."

"But quite strong enough to go down the stream--of course I don't mean the stream of life, but of the Zambesi--with Dona Isabel de Maxara?"

The captain of the gallant 150th did not reply, but fell into a musing mood. Some Portuguese cigarettes lay on the table near the chessmen.

The night was cool; and it was pleasant, looking over the flowing river, and watching the twinkling lights flas.h.i.+ng from the windows and embrasures of the fort. The cry of the jackal was heard from time to time; a distant splash told of the hippopotami; and then the moon rose, tinging the stream with its rays, and lighting up the islands on its bosom. The well-known conical hill of Baramuana became distinctly visible; and far away to the northward, the faint, ghostlike outline of the Morumbala range could with difficulty be traced; while the flat country round, closely covered with forest growth, looked like a dark blot in the moonlight. The lights twinkled and then went out in the fort; the noise in the wretched houses of Senna gradually ceasing.

"And what are your intentions, Wyzinski, on your arrival at the Cape?"

asked Hughes, after a long silence.

"To organise a party; get the support of the English Government, if possible; but, whether or not, to return to the Amatonga, and by means of the ambition of their chief, Umhleswa, fully to explore the ruins now lying buried there. Will you join me?"

"No, Wyzinski; I have had enough of African life. I long for Europe and its civilisation."

"Say for Portugal and its water-melons, and I shall understand you better."

"Nay," answered the soldier, dreamily; "this fever has weakened me, and I have my regiment to think of. I must shake it off, or all hopes of advancement will be taken from me."

"You are quite right," replied the missionary. "Concentrate your thoughts on that, and don't think of the Dona Isabel; that haughty old n.o.ble would as soon dream of the sun for her bridegroom, as of a captain of the 150th."

The soldier sighed; and Wyzinski, using the whistle, the boat was soon once more at the island, and Senna, its fort, commandant, garrison, and guests, buried in deep sleep, even with the fear of the treacherous Landeens before their eyes.

Volume 2, Chapter I.

ELEPHANT HUNTING ON THE s.h.i.+RE RIVER.

Two boats have been mentioned as intended for the use of the party descending the Zambesi River. The one was a simple ordinary pinnace, but the second and larger boat had evidently been fitted out for special use, and was in fact that appropriated to the not unfrequent voyages of the commandants of the two forts of Tete and Senna. Pulling eight oars, its speed was considerable, when rowing, as in the present instance, down stream, and it was so broad in the beam as to be able to stow away luggage as well as pa.s.sengers. A light wooden framework had been constructed, so as to fit on either gunwale aft, forming a cover something resembling that of a modern English wagonette, with windows let into the side. Divans and cus.h.i.+ons served for seats, while handsome mirrors ornamented every spare corner, thus making of the roomy boat a pleasant sleeping place, enabling its occupants to escape the pest of mosquitos, incidental to the banks of the Zambesi.

Leaving Senna late, the party dropped lazily down the broad river. The moonlight was pleasant enough; and from time to time Isabel's voice, accompanying her guitar, rang out on the night air, while many a tale of European and African life whiled away the night. Morning dawned; the beams of the rising sun tipping the tamarind trees on the banks of the s.h.i.+re as the grapnel was dropped under the lee of a small island, just where the river poured its waters into the Zambesi. The men were sent ash.o.r.e to pitch a tent on the right bank, and thus night was turned into day on the bosom of the broad river. That afternoon the tent was standing under the shelter of a group of mashango trees, its canvas sides being raised to admit the air; and dinner, which, with its delicacies of fish and vegetables, seemed a banquet to men who had for so long been forced to live on venison, was served under its shade.

Several bottles of Bordeaux stood under there, too, swathed in wet towels, just where the warm wind was the strongest, cooling by evaporation. In front, the river, now sweeping onward, a broad majestic stream, swollen by the waters of the s.h.i.+re flowing from their sources in the vast watershed of central Africa to the north. Groups of cocoa-nut and palmyra grew here and there; the gum copal threw its shadow over the glancing water; and large ebony trees of monstrous growth, thickly covered with mantling creepers, bent over the stream. There, too, was the singular palm tree, to be met with often on the s.h.i.+re, which sends up its stem, dividing many times, and each one forming a fan-like top of curiously cut leaves, like giant fingers to the hand of a Cyclops; and there was the prosopis tree, long known to the settler on the s.h.i.+re's banks for the fitness of its wood for boat-building. Beyond lay the plain, one or two small kraals dotting it here and there, the patches of sugar-cane, maize, and banana showing tokens of unusual industry and civilisation. Cattle, too, were moving lazily about in the rich pasturage, or standing grouped under the shade, while far away the blue ridges of the Morumbala mountains closed the view. The day had been cool, and a slight breeze just blew out the folds of the heavy Portuguese flag, waving from the stern of the larger boat. Its cus.h.i.+ons had been removed and placed inside the tent, and the guitar lay neglected on the ground, its fair owner listening to the soldier's tale of the Matabele hunt and the rhinoceros, as she twisted indolently the stalk of a splendid water-lily, gathered before landing. Between Dom Francisco and the missionary was the chess-board, but both were listening too attentively to pay much attention to the game; while the boatmen and attendants were seated in small knots round the tent discussing the remainder of the dinner, emptying half-empty bottles, or laughing, talking, and tale-telling in opposition to the parrots'

screaming among the branches.