CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
VOLCANIC.
"I hope the brute won't turn obstreperous, Vidler," said the magistrateof Esifeni to the clerk of the court, as the two met on the verandah."'Pon my soul it isn't fair to stick us in such a position. Here weare, with three or four police, stuck away in the thick of a perfecthotbed of rebellion, and expected to keep it in order."
The other shrugged, but said nothing. He was fully alive to thedifficulties of their position. The "brute" referred to was no less apersonage than Sapazani, who was expected that morning to answer to asummons with regard to certain matters, specially ordered by the ChiefCommissioner.
"This country's being run on the wrong tack altogether," went on themagistrate. "Here's a tinpot township with three or four stores, asmany more tin houses, and a Methodist chapel, and the Residency. Soundsbig, don't it, Vidler? especially when there's wind enough to blow outthe Union Jack we delight to fly from the pole in the garden. And allthe force we've got to back it up is four police. Why, we're only hereon sufferance. It isn't fair that a man with a wife and family shouldbe forced to live at the mercy of that ruffian Sapazani."
The magistrate of Esifeni was not a timid man, but the monotony of lifeat his remote post rather tended to make him "nervy." Of late,moreover, he had seen and heard enough to make him anxious, and thelargest thorn in his side was named Sapazani.
Between himself and the chief there existed a latent hostility which,never failed to peep out more or less whenever they met. Of late theyhad met rather more often than either wanted, but official duty requiredit; otherwise Downes would gladly have treated Sapazani on the principleof giving an organ-grinder sixpence to go to the next street.
"Wonder if that's him," said the clerk, shading his eyes to gaze at adistant cloud of dust coming over the rise, for the township wassituated in a shallow, open hollow. "Yes, it is," he went on, "and he'sbringing a regular impi with him as usual."
The magistrate frowned.
"Damn him," he said. "I'm always giving him hints about that, and byway of taking them he turns up next time with a bigger crowd still.It's done for impudence, Vidler."
"I'm afraid it is, sir. But in this case we mustn't forget that ourforce consists of four police, two of whom happen to be just now absent;and, incidentally, that you have a wife and family."
"Quite right, Vidler, quite right. I'll keep my temper, somehow," headded, half savagely, half weariedly.
His subordinate was doubtful on this point, but forbore to say so. Theday was abominably oppressive, and the hot wind from the north rakedeverything. It was the worst possible sort of day for the transactionof a difficult and delicate _indaba_, when both parties to the same werein a state of mutual friction.
The Zulus were now within recognising distance. Sapazani was clad in awell-cut riding suit of Bedford cord, with boots and spurs, but therewas nothing between the sun and the shine of his head-ring, and he rodea good horse. Undhlawafa and a few others were also mounted, and thencame a string of followers, clad mostly in a long military surtout. AsVidler had said, it seemed a regular impi, for there certainly could nothave been much less than a hundred.
"There's one point on which Sapazani and I agree," said the magistrate,as he watched the approach of the _cortege_, "but not for the samereason, and that is obliging these fellows to wear clothes when theycome into a township. It facilitates concealed weapons, but a chap withnothing but a _mutya_ on has nowhere to conceal anything."
There was a stretch of grass between the Court House and the main road.Here the chiefs dismounted and came forward. Some dozen perhaps werethere, the main body of their followers squatting themselves a littledistance away. They gave the salute civilly but coldly--
"_Nkose_!"
This was calculated to start the talk wrong, Downes holding that, asrepresenting the British Government, he ought to be given the saluteroyal, "_Bayete_."
The magistrate was seated in the verandah, with a table in front of himcovered with papers; on his right was the clerk, and two members of theNatal Police stood on the other side. But before everything had beengot into order Sergeant Meyrick had remarked to Trooper Francis--
"What's the odds we're here to draw our next month's pay, Frank?Sapazani's an awful rascal, and he don't bring a whole crowd like thathere for nothing."
"Depends upon how much Downes can keep his rag in," was the answer. Buttheir revolvers were loaded, and they had other ammunition handy.
The _indaba_ began upon small matters, a recent dispute or two as to theownership of cattle, or of land commonage, and so forth. Over the waypeople were gazing with faint curiosity at the new arrivals, and one ortwo storekeepers were trying to inveigle them into a trade. But it wasdifficult to scare up much interest in Esifeni. It was not a townshipaddicted to excitement, and Sapazani was not a popular potentate amongthe storekeepers, in that his conservative soul discouraged the purchaseof European goods on the part of his people.
In the preliminary questions Undhlawafa did most of the talking,referring now and then to the chief, who had been accommodated with achair by virtue of his rank. Then the magistrate said--
"Come we now to a weightier matter--"
He was interrupted, brusquely, unexpectedly.
"I talk not before my own dogs," said Sapazani, with a wave of the handtowards the court induna who was standing at the end of the verandah,the same man who had brought him a summons to his own kraal, alsotowards two native constables who were hanging on the offskirts. Thetone was curt, peremptory, not to say haughty. The magistrate stared atthe speaker, frowned, then said, sarcastically--
"Is this my court or has Sapazani suddenly been chosen to represent theGovernment instead?"
But the chief's face underwent no change. He returned the official'sgaze with a straight, haughty stare.
"I talk not before my own dogs," he repeated.
Downes was nonplussed.
"Well, if you prefer it, come within my own room," he said. But theother curtly refused. He did not know what trap might have been laidfor him there. Once out of sight of his people and where was he?Certainly between four walls anything might happen, outside, well--heknew where he was.
"If I talk I talk here," he declared. "Otherwise I go home."
Downes was speechless with rage--we have said that the day wasabnormally hot and oppressive, and that these two men, whenever theymet, invariably got upon each other's nerves. But he haply rememberedthe burden of his remarks to Vidler. The whole township was practicallydefenceless. No arms were visible certainly, but more than anuncomfortable suspicion was upon his mind that they were there all thesame. It was a case for making the best of it. The while Vidler hadmade the slightest perceptible sign to the court induna that he shouldwithdraw as though of his own accord, and with him the two nativeconstables.
"Go easy, sir," he whispered warningly to his superior, in an undertone.The latter pulled himself together.
"Talk we now of Pandulu," he said.
"Pandulu?" echoed Sapazani.
"Yes. What of him?"
"Who is Pandulu?"
And Undhlawafa and the remainder of the group looked at each other, andrepeated, "Who is Pandulu?"
"He is a man from Natal," answered the magistrate. "He has been seennear your kraal, Sapazani, he and Babatyana, who is wanted by theGovernment. Where are these men?"
"Pandulu? Babatyana? Men from Natal?" repeated the chief. "Now,_Nkose_, this is like talking through a bullock's skin. No _Amakafula_have been at my kraal."
"I said not _at_ thy kraal, but near it," was the short reply. "Now achief is responsible to Government for all that happens within the tribewhich he rules--under the Government. Under the Government," repeatedDownes emphatically.
"Yet even a chief is not as the white man's God. He does not knoweverything," was the sneering reply. "I would ask--why does theGovernment allow its own people in Natal to come over into Zululand atall? We need no _Ama
kafula_ in this country. Why does it allow them tocome here? Is it that it cannot prevent them?"
And something of their chief's sneer was echoed among the group, in theshape of a smothered laugh.
"Prevent them?" retorted Downes. "A man of your intelligence, Sapazani,must know that the Government has the power to sweep this land from endto end if necessary until there is not a man left alive in it."
"The Government? Which Government?" answered the chief, with his headon one side. "The Government of Natal or the Government of the GreatKing beyond the sea?"
"Both Governments. Both work together. The question is childish."
"Both work together," repeated Sapazani, still with his head on oneside. "_Au_! That is strange. Because when the men down in Natal wereordered to be shot for killing two of the _Nongqai_ the King'sGovernment prevented it."
"That was only until they had inquired further into it," answered themagistrate. "But they were shot--were they not?"
"We have _heard_ so."
There was a note of incredulity about this reply which was exasperating.Perhaps it was intended to be.
"So it will be with every one who defies the Government, no matter whohe may be," concluded Downes, magisterially, as though clinching theargument.
"_Nkose_," replied Sapazani, outwardly polite, though subtly sneering,"I would ask why the Great King has withdrawn all his soldiers fromhere. Is it because he is angry with the white people here?"
Murmurs of assent ran through the attendant group. Downes thought todetect the cloven foot. Those infernal Ethiopian preachers had beenaround disseminating that very idea, he remembered.
"It is not," he answered decisively. "It is because he trusts all hissubjects--black as well as white. But should any such show themselvesunworthy of his trust their punishment will be swift and terrible."
"But, _Nkose_, it will take a long time to bring soldiers from acrossthe sea," persisted Sapazani, speaking softly.
"There are enough on this side of the sea to do it all," said Downes."More than enough. Now take warning, Sapazani. You are not loyal. I,your magistrate, can see that, have seen it for some time past. You aresheltering these disaffected men--Pandulu and Babatyana." Here Sapazanismiled to himself as he thought of the "shelter" he had afforded to thefirst named. "If this is done it will mean but one thing, that you arethoroughly disloyal to the Government. Well, the fate of a disloyalchief is banishment or death; at any rate, banishment, never to return."
Here Sapazani smiled again to himself as he thought of the head of theroyal house, who had been banished but had long since returned. Thatsmile exasperated Downes still further.
"You will appear here within half-a-moon's time," he went on, "with oneor both of these men. At any rate, you will appear to--"
"_Hau_! Appear here in half-a-moon's time? _Hau_! But I will not, Olittle-dog of the King's little-dog Government. Have I nothing else todo than to wear out the road to Esifeni! I will _not_ appear inhalf-a-moon's time, _impela_!"
The interruption was startling. The chief had leaped to his feet, and,his tall form straightened and his arm thrown forward, was glaring atthe magistrate, with murder in his eyes, as his voice rose to a sullenroar of defiance.
"For every trivial thing," he went on, "I am summoned to appear atEsifeni. If a calf is sick I am summoned to Esifeni to explain it. Ifa baby dies I am summoned to Esifeni to explain it. _Hau_! I will comeno more--no more. Let the Government do what it will. I, too, havemen. I, too, have men."
His voice had now risen to a perfect roar. The group had uneasilysprung to its feet. Undhlawafa in vain tried to whisper words ofsoothing counsel to the exasperated chief, but they fell on deaf ears.The ears of the outside attendants were by no means deaf, however, andnow they came crowding up around the scene of the _indaba_. Theirattitude was silent, waiting, ominous.
Now the best of Downes came out. He did not believe he had many momentsmore to live, nor did one of those four white men; they marked the wayin which the _right_ hand of each composing that crowd was concealedwithin its owner's clothing. The hot fit of temper had left him, and hesat there confronting the enraged chief with the dignity of one who feltas an upholder of the Great British Empire at all risks to himself.Above and beyond the threatening half-circle he could see the flag ofthe Empire drooping limply over the roof which sheltered his dear ones,and it flashed through his mind that these might, perhaps, be leftuninjured. Then he rose to his feet.
"Go," he said. "I talk not with a chief who talks to me in that way. Iam here alone, and these are all who are with me. But I am strong withthe strength of the whole Empire which that flag represents. Go, andreturn not to talk in this way to the representative of the King."
For one tense moment they looked each other in the eyes. Then Sapazanispoke--
"I go," he said. "When I return it will not be in this way."
He turned and, without a word of farewell, strode away. His followerswere puzzled, therefore subdued. But the bright blades concealedbeneath their clothing remained there, still bright, still undimmed.
Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion Page 25
