The Fire Trumpet: A Romance of the Cape Frontier

by Bertram Mitford

  VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FIVE.

  SANDILI.

  Never was war or outbreak more entirely without reason or provocationthan the Kafir rising of 1877-8.

  It is a well-known rule that savage races go under before theencroachments of white civilisation. The case of the native tribes inSouthern Africa is a notable exception. Far from diminishing, everyyear sees their population actually increased. And the reason need notbe sought for long. It lies in the security to life and propertyafforded these people by British rule, the quelling of intertribal wars,the breaking of the power of the chiefs, the abolition of sanguinarylaws relating to witchcraft, the opening up of a vast field for nativelabour, and the resources of civilisation brought more and more withinthe reach of the tribes, who, for their part, are not slow to availthemselves of the same. True that, as well as ploughs, and waggons, andsmithies, and schools, British rule has also conferred upon them grog.That would have come anyhow; but even as things are, in this respect thenatives are no worse than our own countrymen.

  This outbreak was devoid of a shadow of excuse. The different locationsoccupied by these tribes were fair and fertile tracts of country. Theyhad no encroachments to complain of on the part of the colonists, fortheir territory was jealously secured to them--good pasturage, fertilelands, and well watered withal. For their surplus population there waeabundance of work to be obtained in the colony, and whatever propertythey might accumulate it was beyond the power of any hostile tribe ortyrannical potentate to wrest from them. Yet they were not content.And the reason thereof does not require much seeking.

  They were thorough savages. They had great martial traditions. Formore than twenty years their warrior energies had found no outlet. Sucha state of things could not be suffered to continue.

  Not all, however, were of this mind. Broadly speaking, public opinionwas divided into two factors. The first consisted of old and elderlymen, who owned property and had something to lose, and, moreover, havingactually fought, knew that war was not all beer and skittles. Thesecond consisted of young men, who, owning nothing, had the same tolose; who had only _heard_ of fighting, and consequently imagined thatwar _was_ all beer and skittles. And the voice of the latter factioncarried the day.

  As was right and proper the first to take the initiative were theGcalekas in the Transkei, the tribe ruled by Kreli, Chief Paramount ofall the Amaxosa divisions. These proceeded to organise a series ofraids against the Fingoes, whose emancipation from serfdom to themselveshad long been a sore point. Matters became serious. The Fingoes wereBritish subjects and must be protected accordingly.

  The High Commissioner, then newly appointed, proceeded to the border.Settlers' meetings were held to discuss the important matter of defence,and deputations waited upon the Governor to a considerable extent. HisExcellency was hopeful and reassuring in his replies, and, winninggolden opinions by his courtesy and decisiveness, he passed on into theTranskei with the object of conferring with the Paramount Chief inperson. That astute savage, however, plumed himself on being too old abird to be caught upon so obviously limed a twig. While at large, hewas safe. At large, therefore, he would remain. So he returned allmanner of evasive replies, even the timeworn native excuse of illness.It became a case of Mohammed and the mountain, with the difference thatin this case, whereas Kreli would not go to the High Commissioner, itwas morally impossible that His Excellency should go to Kreli. Heaccordingly returned to the colony, and preparations were at once madefor the inevitable campaign.

  Even then it was hoped that hostilities would be confined to theTranskei--hoped, but not believed. The Gcalekas were a warlike tribe,who could put many thousands of fighting men into the field. It wouldbe a troublesome matter to subdue them, for they had long been prepared,and were well supplied with food. But if the tribes within the colonialborder--the Gaikas, Hlambis, Emigrant Tembus, but especially the firstnamed--should join them, then the war would become a formidable affair,and, in all probability, a matter of years. Whether this state ofthings came about or not will appear in the course of this narrative,which it closely concerns.

  To-day, however, all seems peaceful enough as the sun beats down uponthe rolling plains and silent kloofs of British Kaffraria, with unwontedforce for a spring day. His rays also fall upon two equestrians, whoare leisurely traversing the mimosa-dotted dales, as led by thecapricious windings of a somewhat tortuous track. Two equestrians, whoare riding very close beside each other, and whose attention seemssomewhat unequally divided between the surrounding scenery and eachother's eyes, to the advantage of which mattereth not. Indeed, soengrossed are they in each other's conversation, that the tread of hoofsbehind entirely escapes them; but an expression comes over their faces,of anger on one, and of--well--not best pleased on the other; and theylook over their shoulder as a rough voice exclaims: "Ahem!--er--how d'yedo?" The last time we saw those two persons, they were together in agarden, some time about the hour of sunrise; and they were absurdlyhappy. They look equally happy now, as side by side they ride leisurelyalong, this grand afternoon. To them, at this moment, all thesurroundings are as the sights and sounds of Paradise; for they aretogether and alone. More than a week has passed since the sun rose uponthat knitting together of two severed hearts, that transformation of twosorrowing lives into, as it were, one of joy; more than a week of long,happy days, so perfect in their unbroken, blissful peace, that to thewanderer it seemed as if he had "cast" his old self and taken a freshpersonality--that the old loveless existence and restless longing forexcitement could never have belonged to him at all, but to some otherbeing, so all-satisfying was this new atmosphere of peace. And onLilian the outward change wrought was marvellous. As by magic the sadexpression had given place to one of sunny contentment, and there was asweet, tender curve in her lips, and the colour of perfect healthreturned to her cheek, as no longer grave she moved about the house andgarden, trilling out little snatches of song, with a soft love-light inher eyes which rendered her more irresistibly charming than ever she hadbeen in the old time. And now the two were returning from one of thoselong rides which they had been in the habit of taking together duringthose halcyon days of love deferred but now requited to the full, whenthat horribly grating voice burst upon them:

  "Ahem! Er--how d'ye do?" And red-bearded Joe Marshall, overtakingthem, doffed his slouch hat to Lilian, and shook hands with her escort,as he reined in his raw-boned nag by the side of the latter.

  "Hallo, Marshall! Where have you dropped from?"

  "Oh, I've just been making a round. I'm going home now. Won't you comeround by my place, and rest a bit? 'Tisn't far. No? Ah, well, it'shardly worth your while, perhaps, so near home." For honest Joe couldsee pretty plainly that the two would prefer his room to his company,though they had conscientiously, at least, suffered no indication ofsuch preference to escape them. "How are the Paynes?"

  "Flourishing. Any news?"

  "N-no. Kreli won't meet the Governor. Says he's sick. But that's allan excuse, you know."

  "Yes; we heard that. Anything fresh?"

  "N-no," said Marshall again, with a dubious glance towards Lilian."Nothing certain, at least. Some more fellows round me gone intolaager, that's all."

  "H'm. I'm inclined to think with Payne, that the scare's all bosh,"said Claverton. "Look at the one four years ago. That all ended insmoke. Why shouldn't this?"

  Lilian, too, remembered that time; nor was she ever likely to forget it.A soft light came into her eyes, and she wished mightily that Marshallwas not with them.

  "Well, I dunno," rejoined that worthy. "It may, and it mayn't. Weshall see, and very soon. Why, who's this?"

  They looked up. The track they had been following merged into awaggon-road, and about a hundred yards in front of them stood a lowthatched building. It was a native trading-store. Not this, however,but the sight of a characteristic group, drew forth the remark. Seatedon the ground, with his back against the wall, was a Kafir, an old man,with a full
white beard, and a face which might have been at one timepleasing and intelligent. A blanket was thrown over his shoulders, andhis lower limbs were encased in a pair of ancient trousers, from whosetattered extremities projected his bare, dusty feet, one of which wasdeformed. He was surrounded by a group of his compatriots; some inEuropean attire, others in blankets only, and red with ochre; somesitting, some standing, some running in and out, but all jabbering.

  "Why, I declare?" exclaimed Marshall, in surprise. "If it isn'tSandili! What on earth can the old blackguard be doing here?"

  "Sandili?" cried Lilian. "The chief? Oh, do let's go and talk to him."

  "We will," agreed Claverton. "Prepare for an interview with royalty."

  The Kafirs stopped jabbering for a minute to stare in astonishment atthe party as it rode into their midst, then went on harder than ever.It was as Marshall had said. This old savage, with nothingremarkable-looking about him, unless it were that his countenance worean air of semi-drunken stupidity--for he had been imbibing freely,according to his wont--was none other than Sandili, the chief of thepowerful and warlike Gaika tribe, who, of all the Amaxosa race, had, informer wars, ever been the most formidable of the colonists' foes.

  "He says he's glad to see us," explained Claverton, as having conferredfor a little with the old chief, he turned, in response to hiscompanion's inquiring glance. "In a minute he'll be even more glad.Look," and he emptied half the contents of his tobacco-pouch into thechief's hands, who immediately instructed one of his followers to fillhis pipe, and looked quite benevolently at the donor.

  "Why, how delighted he is with it!" said Lilian, watching theinteresting individual before her, with a curious glance.

  "Yes, but unless I mistake, he'll want farther delighting directly,"answered Claverton. "The principle of extending the proverbial inch tothe ditto ell, is thoroughly well understood in Kafirland."

  And sure enough the old fellow began making signs and pointing to hismonth, after a few words in his own language.

  "What does he say?" asked Lilian.

  "Just what I told you. He's thirsty, and wants sixpence to get adrink."

  "Old blackguard," said Marshall. "He's got quite as much grog on boardalready as is good for him."

  Lilian laughed. "Only think of a great chief like him, asking forsixpence like a crossing-sweeper," she said.

  The Kafirs standing around had stopped their conversation, and weregazing admiringly at Lilian, with many a half-smothered exclamation ofastonishment. They had seen many white women on the farms, and whenthey had visited King Williamstown; but never had they seen any morebewitchingly lovely than this one, who sat there looking down on theirchief.

  Claverton produced a sixpence and handed it to one of the attendants,who disappeared into the store, which was also a canteen, shortlyreturning with a measure of the ordinary bad brandy sold to the natives.This Sandili drained without a pause, and looked up again at the group,remarking that it was good.

  "Oh, what can be the matter?" exclaimed Lilian, in a frightened tone, asa hubbub of angry voices arose within the store; and before she couldreceive an answer, a brawny red Kafir suddenly shot out of the door,reeling forward with a quick yet uneven gait suggestive of artificialpropulsion, and half-a-dozen others, with excited "whouws!" also emergedand stood around the door, as if expecting something.

  They had not long to expect, for the evicted savage, having staggered adozen yards, polled himself together and stood shaking his kerries atsome one inside, as with flashing eyes he hurled a torrent of abuse atthe unseen antagonist. But a bottle, which came whizzing through theopen door, hit him on the shoulder, cutting his eloquence suddenlyshort, and, deeming discretion the better part of valour, he sneakedround the angle of the wall, muttering and growling, while the othersstood looking on in dead silence.

  "Don't be frightened, Lilian," said Claverton, reassuringly, noting thatshe was growing rather pale. "It's only a fellow been kicked out by thestorekeeper, probably for making himself a nuisance. It's a thing thathappens every day."

  "But he looks as if he'd kill him. I never saw a man look soferocious," she faltered.

  "Oh no, he won't," answered Claverton, with a laugh. "In half an hourhe'll sneak round, and ask for a drink to make it square again. That'swhat they do."

  "Really?" she said, still with a misgiving.

  "Really. There won't be a vestige of a row, so don't be in the leastafraid. Look. What do you think old Sandili is saying?"

  "What?"

  "That he never saw a white woman who was really pretty until thismoment. And faith, I agree with him."

  Lilian laughed, and flushed softly; not so much at the old savage'scompliment as at her lover's endorsement of it.

  "Eh--what?" cried Claverton, who was listening to something Sandili wassaying. "Fancy spoiling that pretty speech. The old brute?"

  "What does he say?"

  "He says that _you_ haven't given him anything, and must give himsixpence. I told him you would do nothing of the sort."

  "But I will. I should like to, just for the fun of the thing," shelaughed. "Only, tell him he mustn't drink it; he must buy tobacco orsomething else with it. He looks awfully tipsy already."

  This Claverton duly translated, and the old savage nodded assent--ofcourse as a mere matter of form--and Lilian gave him the sixpence withher own hand. Then he looked up at Marshall and made the same request;but that worthy, who had been watching the proceedings with disapproval,growled out, with something very like an oath, that "the old blackguardwould get nothing out of him."

  "He's going away now," said Claverton. "We'll watch him start. Iimagine there'll be some difficulty in getting him under weigh."

  And there was. For when his horse was brought round--a sorry quadruped,with ragged caparisonings in keeping with those of its owner--behold,the old chief was so much the worse for liquor that, when helped intothe saddle, he would have tumbled off on the other side but for thetimely support of one of his followers, who was ready to hand. Then twoothers mounted, one on each side of their exalted ruler, and thussupporting him, rode off, the whole trio swaying and lurching from sideto side; for the supporters were only a degree less "screwed" than thesupported. About thirty followers, mounted and on foot, brought up therear, chattering, shouting, and laughing, as they went.

  "There goes the Great Chief of the Gaikas," remarked Claverton,ironically, as they stood gazing after the receding party; "the man uponwhose nod it depends as to whether the colony will be swamped in war, orwhether the outbreak will be just an abortive affair in the Transkei, tobe settled by the Police. And--look at him!"

  "Drunken brute!" growled Marshall. A tall man, with grizzled hair andbeard, now strolled up to them. It was the storekeeper. "Evenin'," hesaid, laconically, doffing his hat as he caught sight of Lilian. "Iheard some one talking outside; but there were too many of those chapswithin, and I couldn't get away for a minute, or they'd have looted theplace. Hello, Joe! Where're you from?"

  "Been the rounds. What was up with that nigger jes' now?"

  "Oh, I kicked him out. He kept plaguing me to give him some 'bacca--said he was Sandili's brother. I told him to clear, or, if he wasSandili himself, I'd kick him out. And I did."

  "Aw, aw!" guffawed Joe. "But I say, Thompson, you don't seem to layyourself out much to amuse the chief!"

  "Who? Sandili? Oh, no. He often comes here. I just give him a glassof grog and a bit of 'bacca, and let him sit down and make himself happytill he goes. I never bother about him. He cadges a lot of `tickeys',"(threepenny-bits) "out of his fellows. They come here to get a drink,and then the old rascal makes them `stand' him instead."

  Marshall guffawed again. "I say," he said, "those chaps are making ajolly row. Why don't you clear them out?"

  "Where?" said the trader, turning. "Oh, they'll go when they're tired."

  "They" being a group of Kafirs, sitting round the man lately ejected,who was declaiming violently, and waxing
more excited every moment, ashe flung his arms about and brandished his sticks, and his languagebecame more and more threatening. Claverton, who foresaw a row, wasdivided between a wish to get Lilian away and reluctance to desert acountryman under the circumstances; but the first consideration wasparamount.

  "Well, we must be going. Good day to you," he said, shaking hands withthe trader. "Good day, Marshall. Are you coming?"

  "N-no; I think I'll rest a bit longer."

  Just then the whole party, numbering perhaps a dozen, walked up toThompson, the injured individual in advance. The latter, in aninsulting and aggressive tone, demanded a sovereign in satisfaction forhis wrongs.

  Calmly eyeing the braggart and the muttering group behind him, thestorekeeper lighted his pipe and repeated his order to quit.

  "No, we won't!" roared the savage. "We'll roast you in your own_winkel_ [shop] before long. Only wait a bit." And then the othersbegan all talking at once, louder and louder, and in a threatening andexcited way, pressing closer and closer upon the two white men.

  "Got a revolver, Joe? That's right; so have I. Always carry it inthese troublous times. Now then, Umsila; off you go--you and all therest of them."

  The Kafirs, who saw that both the white men were armed, drew back, and,still muttering and threatening, they began to depart. Then, with loudjeering laughter and many threats, they started off at a trot along theplain, sending forth a long, resounding whoop upon the evening air. Itwas taken up by the kraals on the hillsides, and echoed farther andfarther, fainter and fainter, till it died in the distance. The two menlooked at each other.

  "I say, Thompson, if I were you I should pack up my traps and clear outof this," said Marshall.

  Lilian was rather silent as they rode away from the place. The sight ofthat fierce-looking, loud-talking group of angry savages confronting thetwo white men had frightened her, and then the voices rose more violentin tone.

  "Don't be afraid, dear," said her companion, tenderly, "Those two areperfectly well able to take care of themselves, and Jack Kafir barks agreat deal more than he bites. They're all right."

  "Yes, I know," she replied, trying to smile. "I am so easilyfrightened."

  "For your own sake I wish you were not, otherwise I like it, and itseems rather to suit you. But now, only think what a lot you'll have totell them. Why, you've had an interview with no end of a big chief;and--well, it's a pity that row should have come in just in time tospoil the recollection of the ride, but it was really nothing."

  Suddenly arose that wild, weird whoop; and turning their heads, theycould see the Kafirs bounding along the hillside waving their karossesand gesticulating, and calling to each other as they ran.

  "There, I told you so," he went on. "They've had enough `jaw,' and nowthey're going home."

  But a gloom seemed to have fallen upon Lilian's spirits. To her, inthose fierce, dark forms bounding along the distant ridge, and in theweird, savage cry--like the gathering cry of a host--pealing forth andechoing in sudden answer from point to point till it died away againstthe purple slopes of the far mountains, there was something terrible, asthough it pictured forth an earnest of the coming strife--and the smilefaded from her lips.

  "Oh, Arthur, can they do nothing to avert this dreadful war?"

  "I'm afraid not, dearest. The only thing--if only it's done--will be tonip it in the bud. Let them break out, and then give them a crashingdefeat at the start."

  "And--you will have to go?"

  He was silent for a moment. "Yes," he said at length, "I don't see howI can sit still when the whole country turns out to a man."

  "Of course not; you must go. I shall have to spare you for a time--darling. It will be only for a time, won't it?" she said, beseechingly.

  "It will. There isn't a shadow of danger for me. I truly believe Ibear a charmed life for some reason or other, a reason I think I'vediscovered," he added, meaningly. "But I've had so many narrow shaves--more than fall to the lot of most people--that I have become a bit of afatalist."

  A sudden impulse seized her. "Arthur, I'm going to tell you something Inever told you before." And then she told him the events of that nightat Seringa Vale, shortly before Mr Brathwaite's death. "Now do you seewhy I said I thought you were dead? But you'll laugh at the whole thingas a mere fancy."

  He showed no disposition to laugh; his face wore a grave, even a solemnlook.

  "When was this?" he asked.

  She told him the exact day and hour.

  "Lilian," he said, very solemnly, "it was you and no other agencywhatever that saved my life--saved it for yourself. Therefore, it iscertain that it is not to be taken now, yet awhile." And awestruck, shelistened as he told her how he had lain fevered at the very point ofdeath in the Matabili hut, and that the sight of her had sent him intothat soothing sleep which was the turning-point.

  And then, as they drew near home, and the soft light faded from thelofty Kei hills, between which the river flowed far down in the silentgloom between its frowning krantzes, the calming effects of the hour wasupon these two. The present was very, very sweet. They had had a briefperiod of perfect happiness, after the years of dreary waiting, and now,if separation was to come, it would not be for long, and they would lookforward hopefully to the time when, the disturbances over, peace shouldbe restored.

  That night Claverton and his host were sitting out on the _stoep_smoking their pipes, the rest of the party having long since retired.The conversation throughout the evening had turned upon the state ofaffairs, and now the same topic held.

  "By-the-bye," said Payne, "there was a strange nigger here this evening,a deuced fine-looking fellow, but an infernal scoundrel, I suspect. Heasked if he might sleep at the huts, and I let him."

  "Why did you?"

  "Well, you see, it would have done no good to turn him away. If he's upto mischief he'd carry it out anyhow; and if he isn't, well, there's noharm done."

  "H'm. Marshall seems in a bit of a funk. He told me a couple of yarnsto-day about fellows whose servants had warned them to clear. I shouldthink that trick's played out, though."

  "Dunno. You'll still find people to believe in it. The niggers, ofcourse, make it pay. Jack, in his capacity of old and faithful servant,warns his Baas. His Baas believes him. Henceforth Jack has a high oldtime of it, and, provided he is careful in the yarns he invents, may goon to the end of the chapter. For my part, I don't believe in anynigger's fidelity. You can't trust one of them."

  "Except my chap, Sam," said Claverton.

  "Ah, that's different. He's away from his own country, you see; andthen you and he have chummed it for ever so long in places where he haslearnt to depend on you."

  It was a still, clear night, the sky seemed crowded with stars, and theair was warm and balmy for the time of year. Scarce a sound wasaudible, save that now and again the faintest possible echo of a savagesong was borne from some kraal many miles across country. Otherwisethere was a stillness that might be felt, and the voices of the two men,subdued as they were, sounded almost loud.

  "Hallo! What the deuce is that?" said Payne, suddenly. For there arosea terrific clamour from the dogs at the back of the house. There was apreliminary "woof" as those vigilant guardians first scented intrusion;then the whole pack dashed off violently, and showing a very decidedfixity of purpose, towards an angle of the high quince hedge whichbounded the garden--baying savagely.

  Both men rose to their feet.

  "They've got something there, I'll swear," said Claverton in a low tone."Wonder what."

  "Very likely a prowling nigger," answered Payne. "We'll just get outour shooting-irons and go and see."