"Amazulus!" was the sullen cry.
"Yebo--Amazulus; and they lie as still as the blades of gra.s.s beneath them. Look, and think how ye would have fared, had not Sirayo fought against them. Where to-day would have been your flocks and your women?
Sirayo is a great chief; it is because he is great that Umkomaas has sent you each with a message--Umkomaas, who was drawn by these hands out of the hole. Do you think that men such as you can slay me?" and he took a stride towards them.
They fell back, looking at each other, and the old Induna lifted his hands. "It is the will of Umkomaas and the headmen in council, O chief."
"Learn--Sirayo cannot be slain. See these wounds--the blood yet drips from them--these scars; they tell you that Sirayo cannot be slain unless he so wishes." He let his fierce gaze dwell on them, and his giant form seemed to tower above them. "Let this white man go, and to-night you may do the will of the chief; but if harm befalls my friend, my spirit will return; you will hear your cattle moan in the night, and in the morning they will be dead."
"Never!" said Hume, who had followed the strange speech without difficulty. "I will not take my life on such terms."
"Hu-em! my day has pa.s.sed and the night comes. Of what use is it that we should both die? Take the road to the forest while there is light, and the dread of me will keep these men quiet till I give them the sign."
"And they will follow me up!"
"What say you? can the white man go? Remember my words: Sirayo living is not to be so feared as Sirayo dead."
"Ay, he can go; the chief said nothing concerning him."
"Go, my friend, and when you grow old, see that you have children about you. It is not well to be alone then."
"I stay with you, chief," said Hume quietly.
"Is that the last word?"
"Yes."
"It is a fight, then;" and the big Zulu, throwing back his head, began to shout of his deeds, while he stamped on the rock in a sort of dance, a dance that grew quicker, winding up with a terrific bound in the direction of the men. They did not wait for him, but turned and fled, and Sirayo stood looking after them in amazement.
"You frightened them," said Hume with a laugh.
The chief shook his head, took a pinch of snuff, and smiled grimly.
"Ay," he said; "they will have some lies to tell the council. You see it was as I said: they would like us better if we went away. I cannot frighten them with words when they come again. Why stay, since they don"t want us, and you cannot carry that rock away with you?"
Hume laid his hand on the carved head of the serpent, and looked gloomily across the river, then at the deserted stretch of the valley on the near side. Its desolation struck him, and he called his companion"s attention to it.
"How is it that this side of the valley is deserted, while beyond there are so many? The ground looks rich, and the gra.s.s is good."
"It is some folly of the witch-doctors, from what I have heard."
Under cover of the night they went back to the ruins, and there they found the old witch-woman alone, sitting smoking over the fire.
"I thought," she said, "you would have been crow"s meat before this.
The witch-doctors smelt you out last night. They doctored some warriors; how is it you escaped?"
"Oh, they were old women. They came, but I shook my fingers at them, and they ran."
"Ho, ho! if they"d been old women they would not have run. So they ran; and you--why did you not run also?"
"We have come for the stone of fire, old mother."
"Yinny! That is where the _amapagati_ dance and make their medicine.
No one can touch the rock and live."
"We have touched it. The _amapagati_ are fools; but surely if they touch it now that we claim it, they will die."
The old dame grinned.
"See," she said. "I know. You cannot frighten me with such things.
But, as you say, the wise men are fools; they have made this side of the valley a fear to the people. Oh, I know their tricks--how they would p.r.i.c.k cattle, when they strayed on this side, with a snake"s tooth, and then tell the people the deed was done by the fetich, the great snake-spirit. Ay, they have slain men too, and girls who went to the river for water have disappeared."
"If that is so," said Hume, "it would be better if the snake rock were removed."
"Eweh, O red eyes--and the _amapagati_ as well. They have beaten me.
Let them die, I say."
Hume gave a bit of tobacco to her, and as she filled her pipe he shot a significant look across at Sirayo.
"It is not well for an old woman to be here without good food and warm shelter. You should have a hut in the kraal," said Sirayo.
"They killed my son when he brought me food one night," she said hoa.r.s.ely; "and they threaten to smell out my daughter if I leave these rocks--the sons of dogs and earth-pigs!"
"Soh! we will talk over this in the morning. In the meantime go you to the river, and call out that we have gone."
"But you will stay and slay them?"
"We have said it."
"Oh ay, I will go. They have grown fat on lies; now I will repay them.
I will show you this night where they keep their girls, all young and fat, the he-goats that they are."
When she had gone, Hume immediately pointed out that they could turn the superst.i.tious fears of the people to their own advantage.
"Well, for my part," said Sirayo, "I am curious about these girls. If they have put up long with the company of snuffy old men, they will know how to receive a man and a warrior;" and he stretched his limbs.
The old woman, having done her mission by shouting until someone heard her, returned, and led them up the mountain, where, in a kloof whose narrow entrance was almost hidden by huge rocks, they found a small kraal and saw the light of fires.
The old woman clapped her hands and called out:
"Come and see what presents I have brought you, children!"
A door was opened and three girls crept out, laughing, one of them, with her naked toe, pushing the half-burnt logs on to the smouldering coals.
"What is it, mother?"
"Guess, my children."
"A young kid," said one, smacking her lips.