A Frontier Mystery Part 19

"They were hardly in the field at all, Baas," he said in an undertone, and excellent English. "Zulu n.i.g.g.e.r one d.a.m.n great big liar."

The speaker being some shades darker in colour than any Zulu there present I could hardly restrain a laugh. Falkner couldn't. He guffawed outright. The chief looked angry.

"Steady, Sewin," I warned. "You're spoiling everything." Then to Magebe. "We had better all go and look what has been done. Then we can settle it."

The mealie crop was only just over the rise, so we were there very soon.

I had told Falkner to come too, fearing he might get into more mischief if left behind: and yet it was almost as bad having him, for he eyed the two Zulus with a sort of resentful contempt, more than once expressing a desire to knock their qualified heads together.

Even as Jan Boom had said, the damage proved to be very slight; but Magebe, an old man and avaricious, set to work to make the most of it.

Half his crop was ruined and so forth. I must pay him two oxen.

Of course I had no intention of doing anything of the sort, so we adjourned to the waggons again to talk it over. There the discussion became long and heated, notwithstanding the fact that I opened it by filling them up with a great deal of black coffee and sugar. Nonguza, who did most of the talking, and I felt sure would claim the lion's share of the spoil whatever it might be, was especially curt and offensive. I got sick of it at last.

"Here," I said, spreading a new green blanket on the ground, and piling upon it a couple of big butcher knives--which Zulus dearly love--some strings of black and white beads, a few bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and a goodly length of roll tobacco. "This is more than twice the damage my oxen have done. So now, Magebe, take it, and I will send one of my drivers with these two," pointing to the two young Zulus who had explained matters, "and he will bring back the oxen."

But Magebe objected that this was not enough, no, not nearly enough.

"There it is. Take it or leave it. If you leave it, then we leave the Zulu country--walk out of it, for we cannot drag our waggons. Then, when the Great Great One--he who sits at Undini--is called upon to make good the loss of two spans of oxen, two waggons and the whole of their contents--to the Englishmen whose oxen were taken--were taken by Nonguza, the induna whom he sent to keep order here on the boundary, what will he say, that Lion--what will he do? Tell me that. What will he do?"

"I know nothing of your oxen, Umlungu," said Nonguza, sullenly. "It is not I who have taken them."

"Not you? Ha! When an induna of the King is present, is he greater than only the head of a kraal--a large kraal certainly--or is he less?

Tell me that, Nonguza?"

It was a good game of bluff to play, and I was about at the end of my patience. I held trumps and I knew my hand, for I knew perfectly on what errand this chief was there. Now he turned and gave an order to those who had lately been threatening us, and I knew that the game was won. Yet even then, as I noted the look of sullen vindictiveness that fled swiftly across the chief's face, I was not inclined to exult, for I was well aware that he would go a good way to be even with me yet, and in the then unsettled state of the border it would be strange if some opportunity of making himself disagreeable did not afford itself.

"Well, I'm sick of all this jaw with a couple of snuffy n.i.g.g.e.rs, Glanton," growled Falkner. "What's going to be done?"

"Oh shut your silly head," I said, irritably, for of course an unconciliatory tone tells its own tale even though no word is understood. "I suspect your readiness to bash all and everybody is at the bottom of the whole bother."

"Well, if a brute comes at me brandis.h.i.+ng a stick with a k.n.o.b like a cricket ball I've got to do something, haven't I?" he answered, lighting his pipe and slouching away in the sulks.

I was in no better humour, to tell the truth, but laid myself out to do the civil to Nonguza, by way of smoothing his ruffled feathers. Then, as time went by, and I was beginning to feel a little anxious once more, to my intense relief my ears caught a well-known sound, the trampling of hoofs to wit, and lo--coming over the rise were my oxen, driven at a run by those who had taken them. I gave orders at once to inspan, returning a curt negative to Magebe's inquiries as to whether I would not stop and trade. I was going _kwa_ Majendwa, I answered. There no mistake would be made as to who I was.

So we marched forth with all the honours of war, but as the whips cracked, and the spans tugged out in response I noticed that the cloud of armed Zulus watching us was increased by others coming over the ridge--part of Nonguza's impi--and thought we should be lucky if we escaped further trouble at the hands of these. It was a bad beginning to our trip--in the temper the people were evidently then in--yes, a bad beginning.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

TWO OF A TRADE.

When Dolf Norbury learned that another white man was coming to Majendwa's country on trading intent, his first remark was that he was d.a.m.ned if he should. This statement he followed up with the use of absolutely unprintable language for the s.p.a.ce of many minutes. His first act was to shy a bottle at the head of his informant, who ducked in time to avoid disastrous contact with the same, and then to make him exceedingly drunk with the contents of another bottle, not yet reduced to its last use--as a missile to wit. This by way of compensation.

The process had another effect, that of making the injured man talk. He for his part was a young Zulu of no particular account, and what he stated was perfectly true, he went on to declare. The white man was a trader known as Iqalaqala, and with him was another white man, a great fighter, who could knock men senseless with his fists even as one might do with a large and heavy stick. He who spoke knew, for he had seen it done--not once only, either. At this Dolf Norbury's language grew vehement and sultry again, and was interlarded by many aspirations after just one glimpse of the man who could knock _him_ senseless or knock him anything else. Only just one glimpse, that was all. The next thing he did, by way of relieving his feelings was to start in and thrash the nearest of his native wives--of which he had several--she, unfortunately for her, being the one of least family standing, and therefore the least likely to raise resentment on the part of the relatives--or others, a thing which is bad for trade. Then he opened a bottle of "square face,"

took a very big drink, and putting the bottle in a pocket or his leather coat went round to the chief's hut.

"I have news, Mawendhlela," he began, when he found himself inside.

"But"--with a look at some others who were seated there--"it will keep."

Not long was it before these took the hint, and stole out, one by one.

The chief's eyes twinkled as he noted the familiar bulge in the pocket of his visitor.

"_Au_! it is cold," he said, pretending to s.h.i.+ver, "and I am getting on in years and need warmth."

"This will give it you," said the white man, producing the bottle.

The chief's eyes sparkled as he watched the gurgling rush of the potent liquid into the calabash drinking vessel. Then he tossed off half of it with a gasp of contentment.

"That is indeed warm--yes, warm," he said.

"And good. But there will soon be no more."

"No more? Now why, Udolfu?"

"Because I am going--going away."

"Going away? Now that cannot be."

"It can and it is. There is no longer room for me here. There is a cow at hand who will give you more milk than I can, but not such milk as this--oh no!"

"Ha!"

"It is Iqalaqala who is the cow that lows at the gate. Iqalaqala does not trade in strong drink--neither will he bring you any guns or cartridges or powder and lead. His trade is the trade for women--beads, coloured cloth, and such."

"M-m! Why then, Udolfu, there is still room for you here, for Iqalaqala can do the women's trade and you can still do that for men--guns and cartridges--and drink like this--like this--which warms--ah, ah, which warms," added the chief finis.h.i.+ng his allowance of "square face" and pus.h.i.+ng his calabash meaningly towards the other.

"But I will not. There is no room for two here. I will have all the trade or none."

Mawendhlela's face fell. He was a man who liked his comfort and the enjoyment of a daily modic.u.m of "square face" gin, or Natal rum had become essential to this. As a chief he was not unmindful of certain plain hints on the part of those very high up indeed in the councils of the nation, to the effect that those under them were required to obtain the weapons of the white man as far as this could possibly be done. Yet here was the man who supplied him with both, threatening to withdraw.

He saw the loss of his beloved drink with dismay, and with even greater dismay he contemplated the disfavour into which he would fall with those in high quarters, if his people showed but a poor muster in the way of firearms. The while Dolf Norbury was reading his thoughts, and could gauge their drift exactly. He knew, too, that personally Mawendhlela and many of his people would gladly see the last of him--but, the above considerations were potent.

"We cannot both trade here," he repeated. "Iqalaqala must not be allowed to come. That's all."

"What can I do, Udolfu?" answered the chief helplessly. "Majendwa is a bull that roars louder than I, and he has the ear of the Great Great One himself. It is to Majendwa you must talk."

"Majendwa?" repeated the white man, with a scowl as though the very name was unpalatable to him--and, indeed, it was--"Majendwa? _Au_! his kraal is far enough away. But here, you are chief, you, Mawendhlela. And for some days the people have been talking of the coming of Iqalaqala!

Well, he must not come."

They looked at each other for a little while in silence. Then the chief spoke.

"I can do nothing, Udolfu," he repeated. "But you--_au_! you white people can do everything. And I do not want a white man who only brings trade for women."

"Then you leave it to me?" said the trader, reaching over the square bottle and replenis.h.i.+ng the calabash.

"It is nothing to me," said Mawendhlela, carefully extracting a c.o.c.kroach which had fallen from the thatch into his liquor, and throwing it into the fire. "No more than that--" as the insect crackled up.

Dolf Norbury chuckled, and took a big drink himself. The life of another man, a fellow countryman--or, it might be of two men--was no more to him than that of the burnt insect. They understood each other.