Nada the Lily. H. Rider Haggard
there, too, I should have been killed, had not this chanced, since the other two men, having stayed one instant by their dead fellows, came on against me mad with rage. For at that moment the gate of the kraal opened, and through it ran a party of soldiers dragging a prisoner by the arms. After them walked a great man, who wore a leopard skin on his shoulders, and was laughing, and with him were five or six ringed councillors, and after them again came a company of warriors.
The soldiers saw that killing was going on, and ran up just as the slayers reached us.
“Who are you?” they cried, “who dare to kill at the gate of the Elephant’s kraal? Here the Elephant kills alone.”
“We are of the children of Makedama,” they answered, “and we follow these evildoers who have done wickedness and murder in our kraal. See! but now two of us are dead at their hands, and others lie dead along the road. Suffer that we slay them.”
“Ask that of the Elephant,” said the soldiers; “ask too that he suffer you should not be slain.”
Just then the tall chief saw blood and heard words. He stalked up; and he was a great man to look at, though still quite young in years. For he was taller by a head than any round him, and his chest was big as the chests of two; his face was fierce and beautiful, and when he grew angry his eye flashed like a smitten brand.
“Who are these that dare to stir up dust at the gates of my kraal?” he asked, frowning.
“O Chaka, O Elephant!” answered the captain of the soldiers, bending himself double before him, “the men say that these are evildoers and that they pursue them to kill them.”
“Good!” he answered. “Let them slay the evildoers.”
“O great chief! thanks be to thee, great chief!” said those men of my people who sought to kill us.
“I hear you,” he answered, then spoke once more to the captain. “And when they have slain the evildoers, let themselves be blinded and turned loose to seek their way home, because they have dared to lift a spear within the Zulu gates. Now praise on, my children!” And he laughed, while the soldiers murmured, “Ou! he is wise, he is great, his justice is bright and terrible like the sun!”
But the two men of my people cried out in fear, for they did not seek such justice as this.
“Cut out their tongues also,” said Chaka. “What? shall the land of the Zulus suffer such a noise? Never! lest the cattle miscarry. To it, ye black ones! There lies the girl. She is asleep and helpless. Kill her! What? you hesitate? Nay, then, if you will have time for thought, I give it. Take these men, smear them with honey, and pin them over ant-heaps; by to-morrow’s sun they will know their own minds. But first kill these two hunted jackals,” and he pointed to Baleka and myself. “They seem tired and doubtless they long for sleep.”
Then for the first time I spoke, for the soldiers drew near to slay us.
“O Chaka,” I cried, “I am Mopo, and this is my sister Baleka.”
I stopped, and a great shout of laughter went up from all who stood round.
“Very well, Mopo and thy sister Baleka,” said Chaka, grimly. “Good-morning to you, Mopo and Baleka—also, good-night!”
“O Chaka,” I broke in, “I am Mopo, son of Makedama of the Langeni tribe. It was I who gave thee a gourd of water many years ago, when we were both little. Then thou badest me come to thee when thou hadst grown great, vowing that thou wouldst protect me and never do me harm. So I have come, bringing my sister with me; and now, I pray thee, do not eat up the words of long ago.”
As I spoke, Chaka’s face changed, and he listened earnestly, as a man who holds his hand behind his ear. “Those are no liars,” he said. “Welcome, Mopo! Thou shalt be a dog in my hut, and feed from my hand. But of thy sister I said nothing. Why, then, should she not be slain when I swore vengeance against all thy tribe, save thee alone?”
“Because she is too fair to slay, O Chief!” I answered, boldly; “also because I love her, and ask her life as a boon!”
“Turn the girl over,” said Chaka. And they did so, showing her face.
“Again thou speakest no lie, son of Makedama,” said the chief. “I grant thee the boon. She also shall lie in my hut, and be of the number of my ‘sisters.’ Now tell me thy tale, speaking only the truth.”
So I sat down and told him all. Nor did he grow weary of listening. But, when I had done, he said but one thing—that he would that the dog Koos had not been killed; since, if he had still been alive, he would have set him on the hut of my father Makedama, and made him chief over the Langeni.
Then he spoke to the captain of the soldiers. “I take back my words,” he said. “Let not these men of the Langeni be mutilated. One shall die and the other shall go free. Here,” and he pointed to the man whom we had seen led out of the kraal-gate, “here, Mopo, we have a man who has proved himself a coward. Yesterday a kraal of wizards yonder was eaten up by my order—perhaps you two saw it as you travelled. This man and three others attacked a soldier of that kraal who defended his wife and children. The man fought well—he slew three of my people. Then this dog was afraid to meet him face to face. He killed him with a throwing assegai, and afterwards he stabbed the woman. That is nothing; but he should have fought the husband hand to hand. Now I will do him honour. He shall fight to the death with one of these pigs from thy sty,” and he pointed with his spear to the men of my father’s kraal, “and the one who survives shall be run down as they tried to run you down. I will send back the other pig to the sty with a message. Choose, children of Makedama, which of you will live.”
Now the two men of my tribe were brothers, and loved one another, and each of them was willing to die that the other might go free. Therefore, both of them stepped forward, saying that they would fight the Zulu.
“What, is there honour among pigs?” said Chaka. “Then I will settle it. See this assegai? I throw it into the air; if the blade falls uppermost the tall man shall go free; if the shaft falls uppermost, then life is to the short one, so!” And he sent the little spear whirling round and round in the air. Every eye watched it as it wheeled and fell. The haft struck the ground first.
“Come hither, thou,” said Chaka to the tall brother. “Hasten back to the kraal of Makedama, and say to him, Thus says Chaka, the Lion of the Zulu-ka-Malandela, ‘Years ago thy tribe refused me milk. To-day the dog of thy son Mopo howls upon the roof of thy hut.’ Begone!” (1)
(1) Among the Zulus it is a very bad omen for a dog to climb the roof of a hut. The saying conveyed a threat to be appreciated by every Zulu.—ED.
The man turned, shook his brother by the hand, and went, bearing the words of evil omen.
Then Chaka called to the Zulu and the last of those who had followed us to kill us, bidding them fight. So, when they had praised the prince they fought fiercely, and the end of it was that the man of my people conquered the Zulu. But as soon as he had found his breath again he was set to run for his life, and after him ran five chosen men.
Still, it came about that he outran them, doubling like a hare, and got away safely. Nor was Chaka angry at this; for I think that he bade the men who hunted him to make speed slowly. There was only one good thing in the cruel heart of Chaka, that he would always save the life of a brave man if he could do so without making his word nothing. And for my part, I was glad to think that the man of my people had conquered him who murdered the children of the dying woman that we found at the kraal beyond the river.
CHAPTER V. MOPO BECOMES THE KING’S DOCTOR
These, then, my father, were the events that ended in the coming of me, Mopo, and of my sister Baleka to the kraal of Chaka, the Lion of the Zulu. Now