Part 86 (1/2)
”There. You won't smoke many more pipes in this world, Lenzimbi,” he said.
The Kafirs became quite good-humoured and began to sing, or rather hum, s.n.a.t.c.hes of their war-songs as they stepped briskly out. They ceased to ill-treat their prisoner, and even showed a disposition to talk. They told him about the different engagements that had been fought between them and the colonists, and how they intended to go on fighting until every tribe had risen and joined them, and that then they would eat up the Fingo ”dogs,” and ultimately, when they had fought enough, make peace with the whites. It was of no use for him to try and persuade them that in six months' time they would be thoroughly beaten and broken up, and their chiefs either hanged or undergoing penal servitude as common convicts. They laughed him to scorn. The open air, the unending bush and impenetrable fastnesses of the rocks and caves were around them now, the white man's warnings they treated as mere fables.
Suddenly Claverton was dragged to the earth, all the Kafirs sinking silently and like shadows. A blanket was thrown over his head, enveloping him in darkness and nearly suffocating him. It was impossible for him to utter so much as a sound. A few minutes of this silent darkness and the impromptu gag was removed. Something had alarmed the savages, and they had taken these precautions. They now resumed their way, and glad indeed was the prisoner to get rid of the horrible extinguisher that had been put upon him, and breathe the fresh air again; for a Kafir blanket, all nauseous with red ochre and grease and something more, diffuseth not a balmy perfume.
Towards dawn they halted for a short rest, and now the air became piercingly cold, for they were at a considerable elevation. Great clouds worked up from seaward, and the wind arose in dull, moaning gusts, driving the grey scud along the slopes beneath, and wrapping in a misty veil the brow of a lofty cliff which every now and then frowned down upon their way. Then, as it grew lighter, Claverton could just make out a town lying far away upon the plain, glimpsed between the slopes of the hills. It was King Williamstown, and at the sight he thought how happily he and Lilian had driven out of it and along that bit of road, the continuation of which he could see like a white thread winding along over the flat. He wae roused by a voice at his elbow.
”Now, white man, we are going to start again.”
Turning, he beheld the tall chief, and now, by the light of day, he recognised this man's features. It was the man whom, with two others, he had turned away from Umgiswe's out-station, on the morning of that never-to-be-forgotten ride over to Thirlestane, and whom Lilian had so much wished to see as a specimen of a real Kafir chief. He wondered if the other recognised him.
”Do you know me now, Lenzimbi?” was the quiet, but somewhat sneering question.
”Are you a rich man, Nxabahlana?” said Claverton, answering the query by another, in true native fas.h.i.+on.
The Kafir eyed him suspiciously. ”It is war-time now,” he replied, with a shrug of the shoulders; ”no one can be said to be rich in war-time.”
”True; but war does not last for ever. Some day there will be peace, and then, when the whites have taken all their cattle and the Gaikas are starving, and begging for food, supposing that Nxabahlana found he had plenty of cattle in his kraals. He would be a rich man when all his people were poor; and a rich man is always the most powerful chief.”
A gleam in the other's eyes, and the least movement of a glance in the direction of the rest, convinced the prisoner that he was understood, and he began to hope.
”Supposing, then,” he went on, ”that when all of Nxabahlana's wives had been captured and distributed among the Fingoes, or were half-starved and too weak to work, and worn out, and thin, and useless, Nxabahlana had plenty of cattle, he could buy more wives--young, and fresh, and healthy. And then, when all the chiefs of the Gaikas were deposed and in disgrace, supposing the Government were to say: 'During the war a white man, an officer in the colonial forces, was captured by the Gaikas, and his life was saved by a chief who set him free, and provided him with a horse and a guide to lead him into the colonial camp. This, then, is the chief whom we must put in Sandili's place, although he is of the house of the Great Chief, for he is our friend--and his name is Nxabahlana.'”
The eyes of the savage glistened at the prospect thus opened out before him. All Kafirs are by nature covetous, and this man's greediest instincts were powerfully appealed to. Plenty amid scarcity--wives, cattle, power--for that last consideration thrown out by the prisoner had carried more weight than he thought. He, Nxabahlana, was now disliked and distrusted by Sandili. Here, then, would be a good opportunity of securing the favour of the Colonial Government, and benefiting himself at the expense of his kinsman and chief.
”How many cattle will Nxabahlana find in his kraal, after the war, if Lenzimbi goes free?” he asked.
”One hundred fat beasts,” replied Claverton. He knew his man, and that the other would take advantage of his necessity to the utmost, so he purposely began at a low figure.
”Aow! A chief cannot buy many wives with that,” was the reply, given with a dissatisfied head-shake.
”Say one hundred and fifty, then.”
But this, too, proved too little. At length, after much haggling, which evoked many a smile from the prisoner--so strongly was his sense of humour tickled by the notion of haggling over the price of his own life, as if he was merely buying a waggon or a farm--a bargain was struck.
Two hundred head of cattle should be handed over to Nxabahlana at any time and place that worthy chose to name, and if at the close of the war Claverton's good offices should not avail to obtain for the chief a position of considerable wealth and influence, then he was to receive another hundred. In consideration whereof the Gaika agreed to release his prisoner, and, if not to conduct him within the colonial lines, at any rate to leave him in a place of safety. Not that all this was set forth in so many words--both of them knew better than that--the others might be listening. No, the negotiations were carried on in that dark undercurrent of half hints, half veiled references, which the Kafirs employ when anxious not to be readily understood by outsiders; and it will be remembered that Claverton spoke the native languages with ease and fluency, and, what in this instance stood him in almost better stead, thoroughly understood the native character.
”What if Lenzimbi should _forget_ his word, when he found himself safe among his own people?” said the savage, suspiciously. ”What if when Nxabahlana went to ask for his reward he received a bullet instead of the cattle, or was seized and thrown into the _tronk_ as a rebel? Look.
Here is a better plan. Lenzimbi shall give the money value of half the cattle now. He can turn paper into money by writing upon it.”
”Lenzimbi isn't such a fool as he looks,” was the prompt reply. ”No, my friend, you know perfectly well that you can trust me far better than I can trust you, and as for writing you a cheque now, which I suppose is what you mean, I couldn't if I would, because I've no paper or ink or anything; and I wouldn't if I could, because you know, as well as I do, that I shall keep to my side of the bargain. Besides, even if I did what you want me to, and gave you a cheque now, how the devil could you read it so as to make sure it was all right? Eh?”
This was conclusive.
”It will be difficult,” mused the Kafir, referring to the escape. ”Very difficult. Look. Yonder is the camp of your people. We shall pa.s.s very near it presently. Then, if you should find yourself free, make for it as hard as you can. There is no other chance. But until after the war is over you must keep silent about the way in which you escaped.
That is one of the conditions.”
Claverton agreed to this, and now hope ran very strong within him. He had every reason to believe that the Gaika would fulfil his word; indeed, two powerful considerations would ensure his doing so, cupidity and fear. For if he were denounced to Sandili as having even contemplated such an act of treason as the release of a prisoner, his life would not be worth a moment's purchase. After some discussion as to the best way the order was given to start, and, with their prisoner in their midst as before, the Kafirs resumed their march. Once Claverton stole a side look at the chief's face, but Nxabahlana was moody and taciturn, and when he did speak to the prisoner it was with the rough brutality he had employed at first; but this might be only a blind. Which was it to be--life or doom? Every chance now was in favour of the former, and hope ran high.
Doubtless the reader will wonder at Claverton's marvellous ill-luck in three times escaping a terrible death only to fall straight into the hands of his enemies. When the Kafirs had abandoned their search as useless, thinking that the white man was a wizard indeed, as Nxabahlana had tauntingly said, that worthy, with a dozen followers, had remained behind. Of a cynical disposition, and a very sceptic as regarded the superst.i.tions of his countrymen, that astute savage, although he had been the first to start the miraculous theory as accounting for the fugitive's disappearance, believed in it himself not one whit. He was puzzled, he admitted, but by natural causes. He would fathom the mystery yet; so he sneeringly watched the bulk of his countrymen move off, while, with a few chosen followers, he remained on the watch.
Carefully they examined the ground, but, of course, found no trace of a footmark. They searched the cave whence the fugitive had emerged, but did not venture far into it, being influenced by two considerations.