Finished, H. Rider Haggard [e reader txt] 📗

how his servants have served his guest,” and I lifted my pistol, waiting till the first stick touched me to put a bullet through the bully on the ground.

“There is no need,” said a deep voice that proceeded from the draped man of whom I have spoken, “for the king has come to see for himself.”

Then the blanket was thrown back, revealing Cetewayo grown fat and much aged since last I saw him, but undoubtedly Cetewayo.

“Bayete!” roared the mob in salute, while some of those who had been most active in the tumult tried to slip away.

“Let no man stir,” said Cetewayo, and they stood as though they were rooted to the ground, while I slipped my pistol back into my pocket.

“Who are you, White Man?” he asked, looking at me, “and what do you here?”

“The King should know Macumazahn,” I answered, lifting my hat, “whom Dingaan knew, whom Panda knew well, and whom the King knew before he was a king.”

“Yes, I know you,” he answered, “although since we spoke together you have shrunk like an oxhide in the sun, and time has stained your beard white.”

“And the King has grown fat like the ox on summer grass. As for what I do here, did not the King send for me by Goza, and was I not brought like a baby in a blanket.”

“The last time we met,” he went on, taking no heed of my words, “was yonder at Nodwengu when the witch Mameena was tried for sorcery, she who made my brother mad and brought about the great battle, in which you fought for him with the Amawombe regiment. Do you not remember how she kissed you, Macumazahn, and took poison between the kisses, and how before she grew silent she spoke evil words to me, saying that I was doomed to pull down my own House and to die as she died, words that have haunted me ever since and now haunt me most of all? I wish to speak to you concerning them, Macumazahn, for it is said in the land that this beautiful witch loved you alone and that you only knew her mind.”

I made no reply, who was heartily tired of this subject of Mameena whom no one seemed able to forget.

“Well,” he went on, “we will talk of that matter alone, since it is not natural that you should wish to speak of your dead darlings before the world,” and with a wave of the hand he put the matter aside. Then suddenly his attitude changed. His face, that had been thoughtful and almost soft, became fierce, his form seemed to swell and he grew terrible.

“What was that dog doing?” he asked of Goza, pointing to the brute whom I had knocked down and who still lay prostrate on his back, afraid to stir.

“O King,” answered Goza, “he was trying to kill Macumazahn because he is a white man, although I told him that he was your guest, being brought to you by the royal command. He was trying to kill him by giving him a start of ten spears’ length and making him run to the isigodhlo (the king’s house) and beating him to death with the sticks of these men if they caught him, which, as he is old and they are young, they must have done. Only the Watcher-by-Night would not run; no, although he is so small he knocked him to the earth with his fist, and there he lies. That is all, O King.”

“Rise, dog,” said Cetewayo, and the man rose trembling with fear, and, being bidden, gave his name, which I forget.

“Listen, dog,” went on the king in the same cold voice. “What Goza says is true, for I saw and heard it all with my eyes and ears. You would have made yourself as the king. You dared to try to kill the king’s guest to whom he had given safe-conduct, and to stain the king’s doorposts with his blood, thereby defiling his house and showing him to the white people as a murderer of one of them whom he had promised to protect. Macumazahn, do you say how he shall die, and I will have it done.”

“I do not wish him to die,” I answered, “I think that he and those with him were drunk. Let him go, O King.”

“Aye, Macumazahn, I will let him go. See now, we are in the centre of the cattle-kraal, and to the eastern gate is as far as to the isigodhlo. Let this man have a start of ten spears’ length and run to the eastern gate, as he would have made Macumazahn run to the king’s house, and let his companions, those who would have hunted Macumazahn, hunt him.

“If he wins through to the gate he can go on to the Government in Natal and tell them of the cruelty of the Zulus. Only then, let those who hunted him be brought before me for trial and perhaps we shall see how they can run.”

Now the poor wretch caught hold of my hand, begging me to intercede for him, but soldiers who had come up dragged him away and, having measured the distance allowed him, set him on a mark made upon the ground. Presently at a word off he sped like an arrow, and after him went his friends, ten or more of them. I think they caught him just by the gate doubling like a hare, or so the shouts of laughter from the watching regiment told me, for myself I would not look.

“That dog ate his own stomach,” said Cetewayo grimly, thereby indicating in native fashion that the biter had been bit or the engineer hoist with his petard. “It is long since there has been a war in the land, and some of these young soldiers who have never used an assegai save to skin an ox or cut the head from a chicken, shout too loud and leap too high. Now they will be quieter, and while you stay here you may walk where you will in safety, Macumazahn,” he added thoughtfully.

Then dismissing the matter from his mind, as we white people dismiss any trivial incident in a morning stroll, he talked for a few minutes to the commanding officer of the regiment that was drilling, who ran up to make some report to him, and walked back towards the isigodhlo, beckoning me to follow with Goza.

After waiting for a little while outside the gate in the surrounding fence, a body-servant ordered us to enter, which we did to find the king seated on the shady side of his big hut quite alone. At a sign I also sat myself down upon a stool that had been set for me, while Goza, whose nose was still bleeding, squatted at my side.

“Your manners are not so good as they were once, Macumazahn,” said Cetewayo presently, “or perhaps you have been so long away from the royal kraal that you have forgotten its customs.”

I stared at him, wondering what he could mean, whereon he added with a laugh—

“What is that in your pocket? Is it not a loaded pistol, and do you not remember that it is death to appear before the king armed? Now I might kill you and have no blame, although you are my guest, for who knows that you are not sent by the English Queen to shoot me?”

“I ask the King’s pardon,” I said humbly enough. “I did not think about the pistol. Let your servants take it away.”

“Perhaps it is safer in your pocket, where I saw you place it in the cattle-kraal, Macumazahn, than in their hands, which do not know how to hold such things. Moreover, I know that you are not one who stabs in the dark, even when our peoples growl round each other like two dogs about to fight, and if you were, in this place your life would have to pay for mine. There is beer by your side; drink and fear nothing. Did you see the Opener of Roads, Goza, and if so, what is his answer to my message?”

“O King, I saw him,” answered Goza. “The Father of the doctors, the friend and master of the Spirits, says he has heard the King’s word, yes, that he heard it as it passed the King’s lips, and that although he is very old, he will travel to Ulundi and be present at the Great Council of the nation which is to be summoned on the eighth day from this, that of the full moon. Yet he makes a prayer of the King. It is that a place may be prepared for him, for his people and for his servants who carry him, away from this town of Ulundi, where he may sojourn quite alone, a decree of death being pronounced against any who attempt to break in upon his privacy, either where he dwells or upon his journey. These are his very words, O King:

“‘I, who am the most ancient man in Zululand, dwell with the spirits of my fathers, who will not suffer strangers to come nigh them and who, if they are offended, will bring great woes upon the land. Moreover, I have sworn that while there is a king in Zululand and I draw the breath of life, never again will I set foot in a royal kraal, because when last I did so at the slaying of the witch, Mameena, the king who is dead thought it well to utter threats against me, and never more will I, the Opener of Roads, be threatened by a mortal. Therefore if the King and his Council seek to drink of the water of my wisdom, it must be in the place and hour of my own choosing. If this cannot be, let me abide here in my house and let the King seek light from other doctors, since mine shall remain as a lamp to my own heart.’”

Now I saw that these words greatly disturbed Cetewayo who feared Zikali, as indeed did all the land.

“What does the old wizard mean?” he asked angrily. “He lives alone like a bat in a cave and for years has been seen of none. Yet as a bat flies forth at night, ranging far and wide in search of prey, so does his spirit seem to fly through Zululand. Everywhere I hear the same word. It is—‘What says the Opener of Roads?’ It is—‘How can aught be done unless the Opener of Roads has declared that it shall be done, he who was here before the Black One (Chaka) was born, he who it is said was the friend of Inkosi Umkulu, the father of the Zulus who died before our great-grandfathers could remember; he who has all knowledge and is almost a spirit, if indeed he be not a spirit?’ I ask you, Macumazahn, who are his friend, what does he mean, and why should I not kill him and be done?”

“O King,” I answered, “in the days of your uncle Dingaan, when Dingaan slew the Boers who were his guests, and thus began the war between the White and the Black, I, who was a lad, heard the laughter of Zikali for the first time yonder at the kraal Ungungundhlovu, I who rode with Retief and escaped the slaughter, but his face I did not see. Many years later, in the days of Panda your father, I saw his face and therefore you name me his friend. Yet this friend who drew me to visit him, perhaps by your will, O King, has now caused me to be brought here to Ulundi doubtless by your will, O King, but against my own, for who wishes to come to a town where he is well-nigh slain by the first brawler he meets in the cattle kraal?”

“Yet you were not slain, Macumazahn, and perhaps you do not know all the story of that brawler,” replied Cetewayo almost humbly, like one who begs pardon, though the rest of what I had said he ignored. “But still you are Zikali’s friend, for between you and him there is a rope which enabled him to draw you to Zululand, which rope I have heard called by a woman’s name. Therefore by the spirit of that woman, which still can draw you like a rope, I charge you, tell me—what does this old wizard mean, and why should I not kill him and be rid of one who haunts my heart like an evil vision of the night and, as I sometimes think, is an umtakati, an evil-doer, who would work ill to me and all my House, yes, and to all my people?”

“How should I know what