The White Shield Part 19

Now, _Nkose_, I am about to tell of the strange and momentous events that next befell; for upon reaching my home that night, which you will remember was at some little distance from the great kraal, I found my family and followers in a state of wild consternation and grief. The little white girl was lost!

She had not been wandering, not even playing outside with the other children. When last seen she was creeping through the door of the hut wherein she usually dwelt--that of Fumana, the youngest of my wives--and this hut she had never been seen to leave. When last seen it was shortly before the setting of the sun.

This was a matter to be turned inside-out, and that speedily, to which end I called up all those concerned, and questioned them one by one; the children who had last been with her, my wives, and the Bakoni slave-girls. But while my two younger wives were half-mad with grief-- for they loved the little one--Nangeza only laughed evilly, saying that it could be but a small thing to a mighty chief like myself the loss of a wretched little whelp of the Amabuna: for thus she would often speak to anger me, knowing that I always held Kwelanga to be not of the Amabuna at all, but of a far greater race.

"So, woman!" I replied, pointing my stick at her menacingly, "it may be a small matter to myself, but it will be a weighty one for all here concerned, for did not the King give Kwelanga into our care? Ha! the alligators have been robbed of their food to-night--it may be that to-morrow they will be full."

I could see fear upon the faces of those who heard my words; but again Nangeza laughed evilly. I was resolved now that the end of such doings had come. The morrow would show.

"Now to the search!" I cried. "The little one may have wandered abroad and have sunk down to sleep in the forest. She may not be far."

"Perhaps yonder moves her bed," said Nangeza, with her black laugh, as the wild howling of a hyena sounded very near. "While such are moving about it is little enough will be found of any child who has sunk down to sleep in the forest, and it has long been night."

A murmur of approval greeted these words, for few among us liked to move about at night. And the voices of the hyenas and other beasts wailing dismally through the forest sounded as the ravenings of ghost animals scenting the blood of those who still lived as men. But for such considerations I cared little then. I gave my orders, and no man there but preferred to face the ghost animals to facing me having disobeyed them. So we set out, by twos and threes, on our search.

There was a half-moon low down in the heavens, and by its light we searched--ah, yes, how we searched! We hunted hither and thither like wild dogs questing a scent, beneath the dark shades of the forest trees, where the beasts would howl dismally across our path, and the rustle of huge serpents fleeing away in the brake would make our hearts leap--not knowing what evil beings of the night were abroad. We searched over the openness of the plain, and among the rugged rocks where we had found the white _isa.n.u.si_. We searched indeed far out beyond any distance such a little child could travel. But we searched in vain.

Not only through the night did we search, but well on into the next day.

Sometimes our hearts would chill as we saw something white, like a skull or bones, lying away from us, but on drawing near it would prove to be a stone, or perchance the skull of a kid or a buck, devoured by wild animals. I sent runners to all the outlying kraals around us but these returned bearing no news, and at last so thoroughly had we searched that I was constrained to believe that it was as Nangeza had so evilly suggested--the little one had wandered away from the kraal, and, having lost herself, had been carried off or devoured by wild animals.

Now my own heart was sad and sore, for, _Nkose_, I loved this little creature, with the eyes of heaven and hair like the sun, whom I had saved from the spears of our young men, and who had come to look upon me as her father; and, indeed, she would sometimes place her tiny white hand upon my great dark one and laugh, and ask whether hers would grow black, too, when she became old. And now I should see her no more; hear her rippling, joyous laughter never again--ah, _Nkose_, my heart was very sore. But my younger wives, Nxope and Fumana, they made terrible moan, far more so than they would have made over child of their own blood.

It came about, however, that some there might have even greater reason to make moan, and that on behalf of themselves; for at day-dawn on the third morning after the disappearance of Kwelanga an armed force stood at the gate of my kraal, and in a loud voice summoned those within the huts to come forth in the King's name.

Now, many of these, looking upon the armed men, felt themselves already dead, deeming that Umzilikazi had sent to "eat up" my kraal, by reason of the manner in which its trust had been fulfilled; nor was I myself for the moment at ease.

"Greeting, Ngubu!" I said. "What is the will of the Great Great One?"

"This, son of Ntelani," answered the leader of the armed band, that same Ngubu who had headed the party in pursuit of me that time I had fled with Nangeza, and who was present when I slew Njalo-njalo; "this--that thou betakest thyself at all speed to the Black Elephant, who would confer with thee. That for thee. For these, they must go with us, every one, to the last man, woman, and child."

"Whither, Ngubu?" I asked, troubled. "Into the Dark Unknown?"

"Not so, Untuswa. Into the presence of the King."

They looked relieved at this I thought, though it might be but the lengthening out of their agony, for the a.s.segais of the "eaters-up" are swifter than the teeth of the alligators. And so they started, hemmed in by the spears of the warriors, while I alone strode on in advance, by no means easy in my mind because of what was to befall, for some, a.s.suredly, would look into darkness long before that night.

A little way outside the great kraal Kwa'zingwenya was a gra.s.sy mound, crested by two large and spreading trees, and from this the plain sloped away, smooth and open, to the brink of the cliff overhanging the Pool of the Alligators. Beneath the shade of these trees Umzilikazi was wont to sit sometimes throughout the whole day, hearing and settling disputes, talking over the affairs of the nation, or it might be reviewing one or two of the young regiments practising drill upon the open plain before him. Here now I found him.

"Well, Untuswa? And so there have been _tagati_ doings at your kraal?"

he said, when I had saluted. "Where is Kwelanga?"

"Now are all our hearts sore, Black Elephant," I answered, "for search has been diligently made, but in vain.

"Yet I gave her into your keeping, son of Ntelani. There has been _tagati_ herein, and some shall die."

"The will of the Great Great One is the delight of his children," I replied. "Lo--now here are they who must answer for this business."

Now there came in sight across the plain the whole company of my people, surrounded by the spears of the warriors who custodied them. All, as they drew near, bent low before the King, shouting aloud the _Bayete_, and on every face was stamped varying stages of fear and dread.

"Here has been _tagati_ at work," said the King, after eyeing them in silence for a few moments. "I think, Untuswa, the women it was who had the care of Kwelanga?"

"That is so, Black Elephant," I answered.

"There are thy three wives and two Bakoni slave-girls--five in all,"

went on the King. "Five women, and they are not able to custody one little child! Ha! If a woman is unable to do this, of what use is she?

Not to give us the aid of her counsels in war," with a frown at Nangeza. "Clearly these are of no use at all. Away with them! The alligators are hungry!"

But before the slayers could spring forward, my two younger wives flung themselves on the ground at the King's feet.

"Spare us, father!" they wailed.

"She who is gone was more to me than my own children," howled Fumana.

"Our own children will die of grief for loss of her," groaned Nxope.

"Spare us, Great Great One, that we may never rest until she is found,"

cried Fumana.

"No _tagati_ is there among us two, Father--among us two," screamed Nxope.

"What mean you--witch? Ha, Nangeza, _inkosikazi_ of Untuswa! Hast thou nothing to say, no tears for Kwelanga--for thine own life?"

While the others had thus been bemoaning and praying for mercy, Nangeza was watching them with contempt in her eyes, which latter would flash into the most intense hate and menace as she met my glance. Now she answered:

"I have much to say, if the King will hear it--ah, much to say;" and her glittering eyes sought my face in the triumph of their hate.

"I think we have heard enough of this babble," said Umzilikazi, with a bitter sneer; for he loved not women, deeming them, though in some ways necessary, yet of no account whatever, and only producing mischief if allowed to raise their voices at all. But even the Great Great One had reckoned without the length of Nangeza's tongue. Hardily she went on:

"There has been _tagati_ indeed; but not among us wives of Untuswa must such be sought. Ho, Untuswa! Where is the witch thou didst save alive from the slaughter of the Bakoni? Ha, ha, Untuswa, where is she?"

Now, _Nkose_, my heart turned to water within me; for such a suspicion, once implanted in the King's mind, would surely bear fruit sooner or later. And the offence was among the most deadly I could commit. But at the words, I laughed; threw back my head and laughed softly, while murmurs of amazement went up from those who heard.

"Hear you the words of this woman, Untuswa?" said the King.

"I hear them, Black Elephant."

"They are strange words, son of Ntelani. Hast thou no answer to make to them?"

"Now, my Father, who am I that I should weary the ears of the Great Great One by crossing answers with a woman in his presence?" I cried.

"That is well said," muttered Umzilikazi. Then aloud, "So, woman, where doth she dwell, this witch whom Untuswa saved alive from the slaughter of the Bakoni?"

"Upon the Mountain of Death, the mountain whereon her people were slain," said Nangeza.

"And how is she named?"

"That I know not, O Elephant; but if Untuswa ever whispers her name in his sleep, it is Fumana or Nxope you should ask, O Calf of a Black Bull," she said, in a tone full of meaning and of malice.

Now I thought and thought how Nangeza could have obtained even that amount of knowledge of my secret. Could she have followed me, stealthily, the last journey I made to the Mountain of Death? It almost seemed so. Or had she set others on to watch me? Anyhow, I felt not over-certain of seeing many more suns set.