'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War
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CHAPTER NINE.
A STARTLING SURPRISE.
Nature is rarely sympathetic. The day dawned, fair and lovely, upon thenight of terror and brooding peril. A few golden rays, dartinghorizontally upon the green, undulating slopes of the pleasantKaffrarian landscape--then the sun shot up from the eastern skyline.Before him the white mist, which had settled down upon the land a coupleof hours before dawn, now rolled back in ragged folds, leaving a sheenycarpet of silver dew--a glittering sparkle of diamond drops upon treeand shrub. Bird voices were twittering into life, in many a gladsomeand varying note. Little meer-kats, startled by the tread of the horse,sat upon their haunches to listen, ere plunging, with a frisk and ascamper, into the safety of their burrows. A tortoise, his neckdistended and motionless, his bright eye dilated with alarm, noiselesslyshrank into the armour-plated safety of his shell, just in time to avoidprobable decapitation from the falling hoof which sent his protectiveshell rolling half a dozen yards down the slope. But he now ridingabroad thus early, had little attention to give to any such trivialsights and sounds. His mind was fully occupied.
No sleep had fallen to Eustace's lot that night. Late as it was whenthey retired to rest, fatiguing and exciting as the events of the dayhad been, there was no sleep for him. Carhayes, exasperated by thewrongs and rough treatment he had received at the hands of his barbarousneighbours, had withdrawn in a humour that was truly fearful, exactingunceasing attention from his wife and rudely repulsing his cousin'soffer to take Eanswyth's place, in order that the latter might take somemuch-needed rest. A proceeding which lashed Eustace into a white heatof silent fury, and in his own mind it is to be feared he defined theother as a selfish, inconsiderate, and utterly irredeemable brute.Which, after all, is mere human nature. It is always the other fellowwho is rather worse than a fiend. Were we in his shoes we should besomething a little higher than an angel. That of course.
Unable to endure the feverish heat of restlessness that was upon him,with the first glimmer of dawn Eustace arose. One of his horses hadbeen kept up in the stable, and having saddled the animal he issuedforth. But the horse was a badly broken, vicious brute, and like thehuman heart was deceitful and desperately wicked, and when to theinherent villainy of his corrupt nature was superadded the tangiblegrievance of having to exchange a comfortable stable for the fresh, notto say raw, atmosphere of early dawn, he resolved to make himself asdisagreeable as possible. He began by trying all he knew to buck thesaddle off--but fruitlessly. He might, however, be more successful withthe rider. So almost before the latter had deftly swung himself intohis seat, down again went the perverse brute's head, and up went hisback. Plunging, rearing, kicking, squealing, the animal managed towaste five minutes and a great deal of superfluous energy, and to incursome roughish treatment into the bargain, for his rider was as firm inthe saddle as a bullet in a cartridge, and moreover owned a stout cropand a pair of sharp spurs, and withal was little inclined to stand anynonsense that morning from man or beast.
But the tussle did Eustace good, in that it acted with bracing effectupon his nerves, and having reduced the refractory steed to order, heheaded for the open _veldt_, not much caring where he went as long as hewas moving. And now as the sun rose, flooding the air with a mellowwarmth, a great elation came upon him. He still seemed to feel thepressure of those lips to his, the instinctive clinging to him in thehour of fear. He had yielded to the weird enchantment of the moment,when they two were alone in the hush of the soft, sensuous night--alonealmost in the very world itself. His better judgment had failed him atthe critical time--and for once his better judgment had been at faultall along--for once passion was truer than judgment. _She had returnedhis kiss_.
Then had come that horribly inopportune interruption. But was itinopportune? Thinking things over now he was inclined to decide that itwas not. On the contrary, the ice must be broken gently at first, andthis is just the result which that interruption had brought about.Again, the rough and bitter words which had followed upon it could only,to one of Eanswyth's temperament, throw out in more vivid contrast thenectar sweetness of that cup of which she had just tasted. He had notseen her since, but he soon would. He would play his cards with amaster hand. By no bungling would he risk the game.
It was characteristic of the man that he could thus reason--could thusscheme and plot--that side by side with the strong whirl of his passion,he could calculate chances, map out a plan. And there was nothingsordid or gross in his thoughts of her. His love for Eanswyth was pure,even noble--elevating, perfect--but for the fact that she was bound byan indissoluble tie to another man.
Ah, but--there lay the gulf; there rose the great and invinciblebarrier. Yet, why invincible?
The serpent was abroad in Eden that morning. With the most sweetrecollection of but a few hours back fresh in his heart, there restedwithin Eustace's mind a perfect glow of radiant peace. Many a word,many a tone, hardly understood at the time, came back to him now withstartling clearness. For a year they had dwelt beneath the same roof,for nearly that period, for _quite_ that period, as he was forced to ownto himself, he had striven hard to conquer the hopeless, the unlawfullove, which he plainly foresaw would sooner or later grow too strong forhim. But now it had overwhelmed him, and--she had returned it. Thescales had fallen from his eyes at last--from both their eyes. What avery paradise was opening out its golden glories before them. Ah, but--the barrier between them--and that barrier the life of another!
Yet what is held upon more desperately frail tenure than a life? Whatis more easily snapped than the cord of a life? It might have been doneduring the past night. By no more than a hair's-breadth had Carhayesescaped. The savages might on the next occasion strike more true. Yes,assuredly, the serpent was abroad in that Eden now--his trail a trail ofblood. There was something of the murderer in Eustace Milne at thatmoment.
Mechanically still he rode on. He was skirting a high rounded spur.Rising from a bushy valley not many miles in front were several threadsof blue smoke, and the faint sound of voices, with now and then the yelpof a dog, was borne upon the silent morning air. He had travelled somedistance and now not far in front lay the outlying kraals of Nteya'slocation.
A set, ruthless look came over his fine face. Here were tools enoughready to his hand. Not a man among those clans of fierce and truculentbarbarians but hated his cousin with a hatred begotten of years offriction. On the other hand he himself was on the best of terms withthem and their rulers. A little finessing--a lavish reward, and--well,so far he shrank from deliberate and cold-blooded murder. And as thoughto cast off temptation before it should become too strong for him, hewrenched round his horse with a sudden jerk and rode down into a wildand bushy kloof which ran round the spur of the hill.
"Never mind!" he exclaimed half aloud. "Never mind! We shall have abig war on our hands directly. Hurrah for war, and its gloriouschances!--Pincher, you fool, what the deuce is the matter with you?"
For the horse had suddenly stopped short. With his ears cocked forwardhe stood, snorting violently, trembling and backing. Then with afrantic plunge he endeavoured to turn and bolt. But his master's handand his master's will were strong enough to defeat this effort. At thesame time his master's eye became alive to the cause of alarm.
Issuing from the shade of the mimosa trees, seeming to rise out of thetangle of long, coarse herbage, were a number of red, sinuous forms.The ochre-smeared bodies, the gleaming assegai blades, the brawny,muscular limbs still bedecked with the barbarous and fantasticadornments of the night's martial orgy, the savage and threateningaspect of the grim, scowling countenances looked formidable enough, notmerely to scare the horse, but to strike dismay into the heart of therider, remembering the critical state of the times.
"Stop!" cried one of the Kafirs peremptorily. "Come no farther, whiteman!"
With a rapid movement two of them advanced as if to seize his bridle.
"Stop yourselves!" cried Eustace decisively, covering the
pair with arevolver.
So determined was his mien, and withal so cool and commanding, that thesavages paused irresolute. A quick ejaculation rose from the wholeparty. There was a flash and a glitter. A score of assegais werepoised ready for a fling. Assailants and assailed were barely a dozenyards apart. It was a critical moment for Eustace Milne. His life hungupon a hair.
Suddenly every weapon was lowered--in obedience to a word spoken by atall Kafir who at that moment emerged from the bush. Then Eustace knewthe crisis was past. He, too, lowered his weapon.
"What does this mean, Ncanduku?" he said, addressing the new arrival."Why do your people make war upon me? We are not at war."
"_Au_!" ejaculated several of the Kafirs, bringing their hands to theirfaces as if to hide the sarcastic grin evoked by this remark. Headdressed shrugged his shoulders.
"Fear nothing, Ixeshane," [The Deliberate] he replied, with ahalf-amused smile. "No harm will be done _you_. Fear nothing."
The slight emphasis on the "you" did not escape Eustace's quick ear,coming as it did so close upon his recent train of thought.
"Why should I fear?" he said. "I see before me Ncanduku, the brother ofNteya, my friend--both my friends, both chiefs of the House of Gaika. Isee before me, I say, Ncanduku, my friend, whom I know. I see before mealso a number of men, fully armed, whom I do not know."
"_Hau_!" exclaimed the whole body of Kafirs, who, bending forwards, hadbeen eagerly taking in every word of this address.
"These armed men," he continued, "have just threatened my life. Yet, Ifear nothing. Look!"
He raised the revolver, which he now held by the barrel. In a twinklinghe threw open the breech and emptied the cartridges into his hand.Another emphatic murmur rose from the Kafirs at this strange move.
"Look!" he went on, holding out the empty weapon towards them in onehand, and the half dozen cartridges in the other. "You are more thantwenty men--armed. I am but one man--unarmed. Do I fear anything?"
Again a hum went round the party--this time of admiration--respect.Eustace had played a bold--a foolhardy stroke. But he knew his men.
"_Whau_, Ixeshane!" exclaimed Ncanduku. "You are a bold man. It isgood that I have seen you this morning. Now, if you are going home,nobody will interfere with you."
"I am in no hurry, Ncanduku," replied Eustace, who, for purposes of hisown, chose to ignore this hint. "It is a long while since I have seenyou, and many things have happened in that time. We will sit down andhold a little _indaba_." [Talk.]
So saying, he dismounted, and flinging his bridle over a bush, he walkedat least a dozen yards from the horse and deliberately seated himself inthe shade, thus completely placing himself in the power of the savages.He was joined by Ncanduku and two or three more. The other Kafirs sankdown into a squatting posture where they were.
"First we will smoke," he said, handing his pouch to the Gaika chief."Though I fear the contents won't go very far among all our friendshere."