Part 9 (1/2)
Heedless of her malice and abuse, she headed off the ”Worn-out-old-Cow,”
whom she knew I detested, from my presence. She saw personally to my bandages, as well as to the cooking of my food, over which matter she had several quarrels with the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Scowl, who did not like her, for on him she never wasted any of her sweet looks. Also, as I grew stronger, she sat with me a good deal, talking, since, by common consent, Mameena the fair was exempted from all the field, and even the ordinary household labours that fall to the lot of Kafir women. Her place was to be the ornament and, I may add, the advertis.e.m.e.nt of her father's kraal. Others might do the work, and she saw that they did it.
We discussed all sorts of things, from the Christian and other religions and European policy down, for her thirst for knowledge seemed to be insatiable. But what really interested her was the state of affairs in Zululand, with which she knew I was well acquainted, as a person who had played a part in its history and who was received and trusted at the Great House, and as a white man who understood the designs and plans of the Boers and of the Governor of Natal.
Now, if the old king, Panda, should chance to die, she would ask me, which of his sons did I think would succeed him--Umbelazi or Cetewayo, or another? Or, if he did not chance to die, which of them would he name his heir?
I replied that I was not a prophet, and that she had better ask Zikali the Wise.
”That is a very good idea,” she said, ”only I have no one to take me to him, since my father would not allow me to go with Saduko, his ward.”
Then she clapped her hands and added: ”Oh, Mac.u.mazahn, will you take me?
My father would trust me with you.”
”Yes, I dare say,” I answered; ”but the question is, could I trust myself with you?”
”What do you mean?” she asked. ”Oh, I understand. Then, after all, I am more to you than a black stone to play with?”
I think it was that unlucky joke of mine which first set Mameena thinking, ”like a white ant in its tunnel,” as Saduko said. At least, after it her manner towards me changed; she became very deferential; she listened to my words as though they were all wisdom; I caught her looking at me with her soft eyes as though I were quite an admirable object. She began to talk to me of her difficulties, her troubles and her ambitions. She asked me for my advice as to Saduko. On this point I replied to her that, if she loved him, and her father would allow it, presumably she had better marry him.
”I like him well enough, Mac.u.mazahn, although he wearies me at times; but love-- Oh, tell me, _what_ is love?” Then she clasped her slim hands and gazed at me like a fawn.
”Upon my word, young woman,” I replied, ”that is a matter upon which I should have thought you more competent to instruct me.”
”Oh, Mac.u.mazahn,” she said almost in a whisper, and letting her head droop like a fading lily, ”you have never given me the chance, have you?” And she laughed a little, looking extremely attractive.
”Good gracious!”--or, rather, its Zulu equivalent--I answered, for I began to feel nervous. ”What do you mean, Mameena? How could I--” There I stopped.
”I do not know what I mean, Mac.u.mazahn,” she exclaimed wildly, ”but I know well enough what you mean--that you are white as snow and I am black as soot, and that snow and soot don't mix well together.”
”No,” I answered gravely, ”snow is good to look at, and so is soot, but mingled they make an ugly colour. Not that you are like soot,” I added hastily, fearing to hurt her feelings. ”That is your hue”--and I touched a copper bangle she was wearing--”a very lovely hue, Mameena, like everything else about you.”
”Lovely,” she said, beginning to weep a little, which upset me very much, for if there is one thing I hate, it is to see a woman cry. ”How can a poor Zulu girl be lovely? Oh, Mac.u.mazahn, the spirits have dealt hardly with me, who have given me the colour of my people and the heart of yours. If I were white, now, what you are pleased to call this loveliness of mine would be of some use to me, for then-- then-- Oh, cannot you guess, Mac.u.mazahn?”
I shook my head and said that I could not, and next moment was sorry, for she proceeded to explain.
Sinking to her knees--for we were quite alone in the big hut and there was no one else about, all the other women being engaged on rural or domestic tasks, for which Mameena declared she had no time, as her business was to look after me--she rested her shapely head upon my knees and began to talk in a low, sweet voice that sometimes broke into a sob.
”Then I will tell you--I will tell you; yes, even if you hate me afterwards. I could teach you what love is very well, Mac.u.mazahn; you are quite right--because I love you.” (Sob.) ”No, you shall not stir till you have heard me out.” Here she flung her arms about my legs and held them tight, so that without using great violence it was absolutely impossible for me to move. ”When I saw you first, all shattered and senseless, snow seemed to fall upon my heart, and it stopped for a little while and has never been the same since. I think that something is growing in it, Mac.u.mazahn, that makes it big.” (Sob.) ”I used to like Saduko before that, but afterwards I did not like him at all--no, nor Masapo either--you know, he is the big chief who lives over the mountain, a very rich and powerful man, who, I believe, would like to marry me. Well, as I went on nursing you my heart grew bigger and bigger, and now you see it has burst.” (Sob.) ”Nay, stay still and do not try to speak. You _shall_ hear me out. It is the least you can do, seeing that you have caused me all this pain. If you did not want me to love you, why did you not curse at me and strike me, as I am told white men do to Kafir girls?” She rose and went on:
”Now, hearken. Although I am the colour of copper, I am comely. I am well-bred also; there is no higher blood than ours in Zululand, both on my father's and my mother's side, and, Mac.u.mazahn, I have a fire in me that shows me things. I can be great, and I long for greatness. Take me to wife, Mac.u.mazahn, and I swear to you that in ten years I will make you king of the Zulus. Forget your pale white women and wed yourself to that fire which burns in me, and it shall eat up all that stands between you and the Crown, as flame eats up dry gra.s.s. More, I will make you happy. If you choose to take other wives, I will not be jealous, because I know that I should hold your spirit, and that, compared to me, they would be nothing in your thought--”
”But, Mameena,” I broke in, ”I don't want to be king of the Zulus.”
”Oh, yes, yes, you do, for every man wants power, and it is better to rule over a brave, black people--thousands and thousands of them--than to be no one among the whites. Think, think! There is wealth in the land. By your skill and knowledge the amabuto [regiments] could be improved; with the wealth you would arm them with guns--yes, and 'by-and-byes' also with the throat of thunder” (that is, or was, the Kafir name for cannon).[*] ”They would be invincible. Chaka's kingdom would be nothing to ours, for a hundred thousand warriors would sleep on their spears, waiting for your word. If you wished it even you could sweep out Natal and make the whites there your subjects, too. Or perhaps it would be safer to let them be, lest others should come across the green water to help them, and to strike northwards, where I am told there are great lands as rich and fair, in which none would dispute our sovereignty--”
[*--Cannon were called ”by-and-byes” by the natives, because when field-pieces first arrived in Natal inquisitive Kafirs pestered the soldiers to show them how they were fired.
The answer given was always ”By-and-bye!” Hence the name.-- EDITOR]