Part 19 (1/2)
She turned her head aside, and when she looked up again I saw that she was weeping, really weeping this time, not just making her eyes swim, as she did before.
”Of course they will come to a bad end, Mac.u.mazahn,” she went on in a soft, thick voice, ”for I and all with whom I have to do were 'torn out of the reeds' [i.e. created] that way. And that's why I won't tempt you to run away with me any more, as I meant to do when I saw you, because it is true, Mac.u.mazahn you are the only man I ever liked or ever shall like; and you know I could make you run away with me if I chose, although I am black and you are white--oh, yes, before to-morrow morning. But I won't do it; for why should I catch you in my unlucky web and bring you into all sorts of trouble among my people and your own? Go you your road, Mac.u.mazahn, and I will go mine as the wind blows me. And now give me a cup of water and let me be away--a cup of water, no more.
Oh, do not be afraid for me, or melt too much, lest I should melt also.
I have an escort waiting over yonder hill. There, thank you for your water, Mac.u.mazahn, and good night. Doubtless we shall meet again ere long, and-- I forgot; the Little Wise One said he would like to have a talk with you. Good night, Mac.u.mazahn, good night. I trust that you did a profitable trade with Umbezi my father and Masapo my husband. I wonder why such men as these should have been chosen to be my father and my husband. Think it over, Mac.u.mazahn, and tell me when next we meet. Give me that pretty mirror, Mac.u.mazahn; when I look in it I shall see you as well as myself, and that will please me--you don't know how much. I thank you. Good night.”
In another minute I was watching her solitary little figure, now wrapped again in the hooded kaross, as it vanished over the brow of the rise behind us, and really, as she went, I felt a lump rising in my throat.
Notwithstanding all her wickedness--and I suppose she was wicked--there was something horribly attractive about Mameena.
When she had gone, taking my only looking-gla.s.s with her, and the lump in my throat had gone also, I began to wonder how much fact there was in her story. She had protested so earnestly that she told me all the truth that I felt sure there must be something left behind. Also I remembered she had said Zikali wanted to see me. Well, the end of it was I took a moonlight walk up that dreadful gorge, into which not even Scowl would accompany me, because he declared that the place was well known to be haunted by imikovu, or spectres who have been raised from the dead by wizards.
It was a long and disagreeable walk, and somehow I felt very depressed and insignificant as I trudged on between those gigantic cliffs, pa.s.sing now through patches of bright moonlight and now through deep pools of shadow, threading my way among clumps of bush or round the bases of tall pillars of piled-up stones, till at length I came to the overhanging cliffs at the end, which frowned down on me like the brows of some t.i.tanic demon.
Well, I got to the end at last, and at the gate of the kraal fence was met by one of those fierce and huge men who served the dwarf as guards.
Suddenly he emerged from behind a stone, and having scanned me for a moment in silence, beckoned to me to follow him, as though I were expected. A minute later I found myself face to face with Zikali, who was seated in the clear moonlight just outside the shadow of his hut, and engaged, apparently, in his favourite occupation of carving wood with a rough native knife of curious shape.
For a while he took no notice of me; then suddenly looked up, shaking back his braided grey locks, and broke into one of his great laughs.
”So it is you, Mac.u.mazahn,” he said. ”Well, I knew you were pa.s.sing my way and that Mameena would send you here. But why do you come to see the 'Thing-that-should-not-have-been-born'? To tell me how you fared with the buffalo with the split horn, eh?”
”No, Zikali, for why should I tell you what you know already? Mameena said you wished to talk with me, that was all.”
”Then Mameena lied,” he answered, ”as is her nature, in whose throat live four false words for every one of truth. Still, sit down, Mac.u.mazahn. There is beer made ready for you by that stool; and give me the knife and a pinch of the white man's snuff that you have brought for me as a present.”
I produced these articles, though how he knew that I had them with me I cannot tell, nor did I think it worth while to inquire. The snuff, I remember, pleased him very much, but of the knife he said that it was a pretty toy, but he would not know how to use it. Then we fell to talking.
”What was Mameena doing here?” I asked boldly.
”What was she doing at your wagons?” he asked. ”Oh, do not stop to tell me; I know, I know. That is a very good Snake of yours, Mac.u.mazahn, which always just lets you slip through her fingers, when, if she chose to close her hand-- Well, well, I do not betray the secrets of my clients; but I say this to you--go on to the kraal of the son of Senzangakona, and you will see things happen that will make you laugh, for Mameena will be there, and the mongrel Masapo, her husband. Truly she hates him well, and, after all, I would rather be loved than hated by Mameena, though both are dangerous. Poor Mongrel! Soon the jackals will be chewing his bones.”
”Why do you say that?” I asked.
”Only because Mameena tells me that he is a great wizard, and the jackals eat many wizards in Zululand. Also he is an enemy of Panda's House, is he not?”
”You have been giving her some bad counsel, Zikali,” I said, blurting out the thought in my mind.
”Perhaps, perhaps, Mac.u.mazahn; only I may call it good counsel. I have my own road to walk, and if I can find some to clear away the thorns that would p.r.i.c.k my feet, what of it? Also she will get her pay, who finds life dull up there among the Amasomi, with one she hates for a hut-fellow. Go you and watch, and afterwards, when you have an hour to spare, come and tell me what happens--that is, if I do not chance to be there to see for myself.”
”Is Saduko well?” I asked to change the subject, for I did not wish to become privy to the plots that filled the air.
”I am told that his tree grows great, that it overshadows all the royal kraal. I think that Mameena wishes to sleep in the shade of it. And now you are weary, and so am I. Go back to your wagons, Mac.u.mazahn, for I have nothing more to say to you to-night. But be sure to return and tell me what chances at Panda's kraal. Or, as I have said, perhaps I shall meet you there. Who knows, who knows?”
Now, it will be observed that there was nothing very remarkable in this conversation between Zikali and myself. He did not tell me any deep secrets or make any great prophecy. It may be wondered, indeed, when there is so much to record, why I set it down at all.
My answer is, because of the extraordinary impression that it produced upon me. Although so little was said, I felt all the while that those few words were a veil hiding terrible events to be. I was sure that some dreadful scheme had been hatched between the old dwarf and Mameena whereof the issue would soon become apparent, and that he had sent me away in a hurry after he learned that she had told me nothing, because he feared lest I should stumble on its cue and perhaps cause it to fail.
At any rate, as I walked back to my wagons by moonlight down that dreadful gorge, the hot, thick air seemed to me to have a physical taste and smell of blood, and the dank foliage of the tropical trees that grew there, when now and again a puff of wind stirred them, moaned like the fabled imikovu, or as men might do in their last faint agony. The effect upon my nerves was quite strange, for when at last I reached my wagons I was shaking like a reed, and a cold perspiration, unnatural enough upon that hot night, poured from my face and body.
Well, I took a couple of stiff tots of ”squareface” to pull myself together, and at length went to sleep, to awake before dawn with a headache. Looking out of the wagon, to my surprise I saw Scowl and the hunters, who should have been snoring, standing in a group and talking to each other in frightened whispers. I called Scowl to me and asked what was the matter.
”Nothing, Baas,” he said with a shamefaced air; ”only there are so many spooks about this place. They have been pa.s.sing in and out of it all night.”