“It is good; it is wise!” exclaimed Umbezi. “Masapo,” he called to that warrior, “if you wish to fight, pray do not think of me. I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I promise proper burial to any who fall. Only you had best be swift, for Saduko is walking away all this time. Come, you and your people have spears, and the gate stands open.”
“Am I to go without my meat in order to knock that hyena on the head?” asked Masapo in a brave voice. “No, he can wait my leisure. Sit still, my people. I tell you, sit still. Tell him, you Macumazahn, that I am coming for him presently, and be warned to keep yourself away from him, lest you should tumble into his hole.”
“I will tell him,” I answered, “though I know not who made me your messenger. But listen to me, you Speaker of big words and Doer of small deeds, if you dare to lift a finger against me I will teach you something about holes, for there shall be one or more through that great carcass of yours.”
Then, walking up to him, I looked him in the face, and at the same time tapped the handle of the big double-barrelled pistol I carried.
He shrank back muttering something.
“Oh, don’t apologise,” I said, “only be more careful in future. And now I wish you a good dinner, Chief Masapo, and peace upon your kraal, friend Umbezi.”
After this speech I marched off, followed by the clamour of Masapo’s furious attendants and the sound of Mameena’s light and mocking laughter.
“I wonder which of them she will marry?” I thought to myself, as I set out for the wagons.
As I approached my camp I saw that the oxen were being inspanned, as I supposed by the order of Scowl, who must have heard that there was a row up at the kraal, and thought it well to be ready to bolt. In this I was mistaken, however, for just then Saduko strolled out of a patch of bush and said:
“I ordered your boys to yoke up the oxen, Inkoosi.”
“Have you? That’s cool!” I answered. “Perhaps you will tell me why.”
“Because we must make a good trek to the northward before night, Inkoosi.”
“Indeed! I thought that I was heading south-east.”
“Bangu does not live in the south or the east,” he replied slowly.
“Oh, I had almost forgotten about Bangu,” I said, with a rather feeble attempt at evasion.
“Is it so?” he answered in his haughty voice. “I never knew before that Macumazahn was a man who broke a promise to his friend.”
“Would you be so kind as to explain your meaning, Saduko?”
“Is it needful?” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Unless my ears played me tricks, you agreed to go up with me against Bangu. Well, I have gathered the necessary men–with the king’s leave–they await us yonder,” and he pointed with his spear towards a dense patch of bush that lay some miles beneath us. “But,” he added, “if you desire to change your mind I will go alone. Only then, I think, we had better bid each other good-bye, since I love not friends who change their minds when the assegais begin to shake.”
Now, whether Saduko spoke thus by design I do not know. Certainly, however, he could have found no better way to ensure my companionship for what it was worth, since, although I had made no actual promise in this case, I have always prided myself on keeping even a half-bargain with a native.
“I will go with you,” I said quietly, “and I hope that, when it comes to the pinch, your spear will be as sharp as your tongue, Saduko. Only do not speak to me again like that, lest we should quarrel.”
As I said this I saw a look of relief appear on his face, of very great relief.
“I pray your pardon, my lord Macumazahn,” he said, seizing my hand, “but, oh! there is a hole in my heart. I think that Mameena means to play me false, and now that has happened with yonder dog, Masapo, which will make her father hate me.”