Part 12 (1/2)

”Behold, now,” said the Molimo in his still voice, pointing at the dead Matabele with his finger; ”do I speak lies, or is it true that this man shall not look more upon his king's face? Well, as it was with the servant, so it shall be with the lord, only more slowly. It is the decree of the Munwali, spoken by the voice of his Mouth, the Molimo of Bambatse. Go, children of Lobengula, and bear with you as an offering this first-fruit of the harvest that the white men shall reap among the warriors of his people.”

The thin voice died away, and there was silence so intense that Benita thought she heard the sc.r.a.ping of the feet of a green lizard which crept across a stone a yard or two away.

Then of a sudden it ended. Of a sudden the two remaining Matabele turned and fled for their lives, and as, when dogs run, a flock of sheep will wheel about and pursue them, so did the Makalanga. They grabbed at the messengers with their hands, tearing their finery from them; they struck them with sticks, they pounded them with stones, till at length two bruised and bleeding men, finding all escape cut off, and led perhaps by some instinct, staggered back to where Benita stood horrified at this dreadful scene, and throwing themselves upon the ground, clutched at her dress and prayed for mercy.

”Move a little, Miss Clifford,” said Meyer. ”Three of those brutes will not weigh heavier than one upon my conscience.”

”No, no, you shall not,” she answered. ”Mambo, these men are messengers; spare them.”

”Hearken to the voice of pity,” said the old prophet, ”spoken in a place where pity never was, and not in vain. Let them go. Give mercy to the merciless, for she buys their lives with a prayer.”

”They will bring the others on us,” muttered Tamas, and even old Mr.

Clifford shook his head sadly. But the Molimo only said:

”I have spoken. Let them go. That which will befall must befall, and from this deed no ill shall come that would not have come otherwise.”

”You hear? Depart swiftly,” said Benita, in Zulu.

With difficulty the two men dragged themselves to their feet, and supporting each other, stood before her. One of them, a clever, powerful-faced man, whose black hair was tinged with grey, addressing himself to Benita, gasped:

”Hear me. That fool there,” and he pointed to his dead companion, ”whose boasting brought his death upon him, was but a low fellow. I, who kept silence and let him talk, am Maduna, a prince of the royal house who justly deserve to die because I turned my back upon these dogs. Yet I and my brother here take life at your hands, Lady, who, now that I have had time to think, would refuse it at theirs. For, whether I stay or go does not matter. The impi waits; the slayers are beneath the walls.

Those things which are decreed will happen; there, yonder old Wizard speaks true. Listen, Lady: should it chance that you have cause to demand two lives at the hands of Maduna, in his own name and the name of his king he promises them to you. In safety shall they pa.s.s, they and all that is theirs, without toll taken. Remember the oath of Maduna, Lady, in the hour of your need, and do you, my brother, bear witness to it among our people.”

Then, straightening themselves as well as they were able, these two sorely hurt men lifted their right arms and gave Benita the salute due to a chieftainess. This done, taking no note of any other creature there, they limped away to the gate that had been opened for them, and vanished beyond the wall.

All this while Meyer had stood silent; now he spoke with a bitter smile.

”Charity, Miss Clifford, said a certain Paul, as reported in your New Testament, covers a mult.i.tude of sins. I hope very much that it will serve to cover our remains from the aasvogels, after we have met our deaths in some such fas.h.i.+on as that brute promised us,” and he pointed to the dead man.

Benita looked at her father in question.

”Mr. Meyer means, my dear, that you have done a foolish thing in begging the lives of those Matabele. It would have been safer for us if they were dead, who, as it is, have gone off burning for revenge. Of course, I understand it was natural enough, but----” and he hesitated and stopped.

”The chief did not say so,” broke in Benita with agitation; ”besides, if he had, I should not have cared. It was bad enough to see one man killed like that,” and she s.h.i.+vered; ”I could not bear any more.”

”You should not be angry at the fellow's death, seeing that it was what he said of you which brought it upon him,” Meyer replied with meaning.

”Otherwise he might have gone unharmed as far as I was concerned. For the rest, I did not interfere because I saw it was useless; also I am a fatalist like our friend, the Molimo, and believe in what is decreed.

The truth is,” he added sharply, ”among savages ladies are not in place.”

”Why did you not say that down at Rooi Krantz, Jacob?” asked Mr.

Clifford. ”You know I thought so all the while, but somehow I was over-ruled. Now what I suggest is, that we had better get out of this place as fast as we can--instantly, as soon as we have eaten, before our retreat is cut off.”

Meyer looked at the oxen which had been outspanned: nine were wandering about picking up what food they could, but the five which were supposed to have been bitten by tetsefly had lain down.

”Nine worn-out and footsore oxen will not draw the waggon,” he said; ”also in all probability the place is already surrounded by Matabele, who merely let us in to be sure of the guns which their spies must have told them we were carrying. Lastly, having spent so much and come so far, I do not mean to go without what we seek. Still, if you think that your daughter's danger is greater within these walls than outside of them, you might try, if we can hire servants, which I doubt. Or possibly, if any rowers are to be had, you could go down the Zambesi in a canoe, risking the fever. You and she must settle it, Clifford.”

”Difficulties and dangers every way one looks. Benita, what do you say?”