John Ames, Native Commissioner: A Romance of the Matabele Rising

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  OF PERIL AND FEAR.

  Nidia's sleep had been dreamless and profound, wherefore when she awokethe next morning she felt rested and refreshed. A shudder of repulsionran: through her as her gaze made out the hideous adornments of hergrisly sleeping apartment--the skulls and bones and stuffedsnake-skins--but she felt no real fear. Even the human mask, lookingsufficiently horrible in the semi-darkness of the hut, failed to inspireher with the wild panic terror which the wizard had confidently reckonedupon. Waking up amid such gruesome surroundings would, he calculated,produce such a shock upon her nerves as to render her frantic withterror, and this was one of the little refinements of cruelty he hadpromised himself. But she had gone through too much real peril, hadlooked on horrors too material to be scared by such mere bogeydom as afew skulls and bones.

  She lay for a little while longer thinking out the position. Thoughnaturally not a little anxious and a trifle uneasy, she was far fromrealising the desperate nature of her position, and that the very manshe trusted in as protector and guide was an arch-rebel who hadinstigated and participated in more than one treacherous and wholesalemurder. She supposed they had brought her here for the reason this manhad given--for better security--and that to-day he would guide hersafely to Sikumbutana.

  To this end she rose. A snuffling noise outside the door of the hutattracted her attention, then a low growl. Some kraal cur, was all thethought she gave it. She opened the door and went outside. The sun waswell up, and the birds were twittering in the thorn thicket, but ofthose who had brought her there she saw no sign. The ashes of the fireover which Shiminya had squatted lay white and dead, but of himself andthe other there was no sign. But the animal she had heard was lyingacross the entrance of the kraal. She surveyed it with some curiosity.If this was a dog she had never seen one like it before. It was morelike the pictures she had seen of a hyaena.

  She went back into the hut to put on her straw hat, for the sun was hot.The fact of having the hat with her reminded her of the signal escapeshe herself had had from the massacre which had overwhelmed theHollingworths. But that she had felt moved to take a stroll thatafternoon she would have shared their fate. Then she upbraided herself.Was it not selfish to feel any sort of satisfaction under suchcircumstances? Ah, but--life was life, and death was ghastly andterrible--and she was alive.

  As she came forth again the brute lying across the entrance opened itsyellow eyes and snarled. She called to it in a soothing tone, whichcaused it to snarl louder. The sun waxed hotter and hotter, yet somehowshe preferred the shadeless glare to the dour interior of the hut. Whathad become of the two natives? She felt instinctively that they werenot in the other huts, therefore they must be absent. But on whaterrand? She began to feel more and more uneasy.

  The sun mounted higher and higher, and still no sign of their return.Were they, after all, treacherous? Yet why had they not murdered her atfirst? They could so easily have done so. But perhaps they had gone tofetch some more of their countrymen to enjoy the spectacle of seeing herput to death.

  With such fears did poor Nidia torment herself. Then suddenly shebecame alive to the fact that a little more of this sort of speculationwould utterly unnerve her. So she resolved by an effort of will to putsuch imaginings far from her, and as an initiative in that direction shewould try to find something to eat, for she was growing hungry.

  Rising, she went to one of the huts. The recumbent beast snarled sothreateningly that she half turned. Would it fly at her? She lookedaround for a stick or a stone. There was nothing of the sort in sight.Still looking over her shoulder she undid the fastenings of the door.The brute lay snarling, but made no move to attack her.

  The interior of the hut was close and frowsy, but looked as if it wereused more as a store-room than for purposes of habitation, for it waspiled up with all manner of odds and ends--blankets, rolls of "limbo,"looking-glasses, boots, hats, shirts, and articles of native clothingand adornment, all jostled up together--even a camp wash-basin and jug.The latter looked inviting. If only she could find some water. Ah,here was some! A large calabash when shaken gave forth a gurglingsound, and in a moment Nidia was plunging her face into a mostrefreshing basinful.

  Further investigation revealed some cold boiled mealies. They wereinsipid and uninviting fare, and the bowl containing them was not overclean; still, they were something to eat, and poor Nidia was becomingvery hungry. So she devoured them before pursuing her investigationsfurther.

  Ha! what was this? Meat it seemed like, and it was wrapped in a damprag. Well, a steak done over the coals would not come in badly justthen, she thought, reflecting how fortunate it was she had once takenlessons in a cookery school. She even smiled to herself as she picturedher dusky entertainers returning to find her in the middle of thebreakfast, which certainly _they_ had been at no pains to provide.

  She undid the damp cloth. Yes; it was meat, uncooked meat--and then--She dashed the whole to the ground, and stood, with distended eyeballs,gazing at what lay there, the very personification of staring horror.

  For there lay upon the ground two human hands--arms, rather--for theywere attached to the forearm, which had been disjointed at the elbow.They were clearly those of a native, albeit turned almost white, asthough from the action of water. This was what the damp rag hadcontained, these two sodden maimed limbs of a human being.

  But with the discovery an idea suddenly struck root in Nidia's mindwhich seemed to turn her to stone, so appalling was it in itslikelihood. Were these people cannibals--secret cannibals, perhaps?The smaller of the two men had, at any rate, a totally different look toany other native she had ever seen. This, then, was why she had beenbrought here, was being kept here. This, too, accounted for the absenceof her custodians. They had gone to fetch others to share in theirfeast--that feast herself.

  Utterly beside herself now with the horror of this dreadful thought, shedashed from the hut--one idea in her mind--to get away from this awfulplace at whatever cost. But there was another who entertained differentideas concerning the disposal of her movements, and that was the wolf.

  For as she approached the gap in the circular fence which constitutedthe exit, the brute lay and snarled. She talked soothingly, thenscoldingly, as to a dog. All to no purpose. It lifted its hideoushead, and snarled louder and more threateningly. But it would not budgean inch, and she could only pass through that gap over its body.

  Perfectly frantic with desperation, Nidia tore a thorn bough from thefence; and, advanced upon the beast. It crouched, snarling shrilly;then, as she thrust the spiky end sharply against its face, it sprang ather open-mouthed, uttering a fiendish yell. But for the bough she wouldhave had her throat torn out; as it was the sharp spines served as ashield between her and the infuriated brute, which, with ears thrownback and fangs bared, squirmed hither and thither to get round thisthorny buckler--its eyes flashing flame, its jaws spitting foam. Thestruggle could not last for ever. Her strength was fast leaving her,and in her extremity a wild shriek of the most awful terror and despairpealed forth from the lips of the unhappy girl. Then another andanother.

  What was this? Unheard by the combatants because drowned by the savageyells and snarls of the one and the terrified screams of the other,there was a tearing, crashing sound at the upper end of the enclosure.A man dashed through the thorny fence--a white man--hatless and withclothes well-nigh in tatters--pale as death, his right hand grasping asword-bayonet. Without a moment's hesitation he made straight at theinfuriated beast, darting such a stab with his weapon that had it gonehome the wizard's "familiar spirit" would have needed a successor. Thequick movements of the animal, however, turned the blade aside--result adeep ugly gash along the ribs. But seeing it had no longer to deal witha badly frightened woman, but a strong, determined man, the skulkingnature of the beast came uppermost even in the midst of its fury. Witha shrill yelp of pain and fear, it fell off, and, turning, fled throughthe entrance like a strea
k of lightning.

  The girl dropped the thorny bough and faced her rescuer, with a burst ofhalf hysterical laughter. One exclamation escaped her--

  "John Ames!"

  Wonder, delight, relief--all entered into the tone. In the extremity ofher fear and exhaustion conventionality was lost sight of--formalityforgotten. The name by which she had been accustomed to designate himalone with her friend, to think of him alone with herself would out.Not another, word, though, could she utter. She stood there breathless,panting, a mist before her eyes, after the violence of her exertions,the extremity of her fear.

  "Don't try and talk," he said--"simply rest."

  She looked at him--still panting violently--shook her head, and smiled.She was physically incapable of speaking after her exertion. But eventhen a contrast rose vividly before her--this man now, and when she hadlast seen him. They had bidden him good-bye, she and her relative, inthe front door of the hotel at Wynberg, cordially--and conventionally--mutually expressing the wish to meet again soon up-country. Now, herehe stood, having dropped, as it were, from the clouds, to come to heraid in her moment of sore need. And his appearance--haggard, unshaven,hatless, his clothes in tatters; yet it seemed to her sufficient at thismoment that he was here at all. For some little while they sat insilence. Then he said--

  "If you are sufficiently rested, tell me how it is you are here--in thisplace."

  "Oh yes; I can talk now. But--oh, what would I have done with thathorrible fiend of an animal but for you? I should have been torn topieces."

  "Strange, too, how it got here. I know the sort of beast. It in a kindof mongrel hyaena--Lupiswana, the natives call it. Ah! Now I begin tosee."

  This as if a sudden idea had struck him. But again he repeated hisrequest that she should tell him her experiences. And this she did--from the murder of the Hollingworths right on.

  "And so you were coming to me for refuge?" he said, for she had made nosecret of that part of it either. "It was well indeed you did not, forI only escaped through the fidelity of my own servant. I will tell youall about it another time. I must take care of you until we fall inwith a patrol. We shall have to keep closely in hiding, you know. I amonly a fugitive like yourself. The whole country is up in arms, but itis only a question of time and--"

  A bullet hummed over the speaker's head, very near, simultaneously withthe crash of a firearm, discharged from the entrance of the enclosure,where a small lean native stood already inserting another cartridge inthe breach of his smoking rifle. But John Ames was upon him with atiger spring, just in time to strike up the barrel and send the bullethumming into space.

  "No, no! You don't go like that," he said in Sindabele, gripping theother's wrists. The savage, small and thin, was no match for the tallmuscular white man; yet even he was less puny than he appeared and wasstriving for an opportunity to slide, eel-like, from that grasp, andmake good his escape. "_Gahle, gahle_! or I will break your wrists."

  Then the native gave in, whining that Jonemi was his father, and he shotat him in mistake, seeing him in his kraal. He had retired there inpeace, in order to keep out of all the trouble that was being made.

  "Yes; thou knowest me, and I know thee, Shiminya," was the answer. "Inthe mean time I will take thy rifle--which belongs to the Government--and cartridges. That's it. Now, go and sit over there, and if thoumovest I will shoot thee dead, for I can shoot better than thou."

  The discomfited sorcerer, now the odds were against him, did as he wastold, turning the while to Nidia and adjuring her to speak for him. Hiswas the kraal that had taken her in. He had housed and fed her. Thisvery day he had intended to take her to Sikumbutana. He had gone forthto see that the way was clear so that he might do so in safety, and,returning, had found Jonemi, whom, mistaking for some plunderer, he hadfired at.

  Nidia, of course, understood not a word of this, but John Ames had letthe rascal's tongue run on. He more than suspected Shiminya to be aninstigator of the murder of the Inglefields, and was sure that he wasaware of it. For the rest, it certainly seemed as he had said. Nidia'sown tale was in keeping. They had been somewhat rough in their mannerto her, but had given her food and shelter, and had done her no seriousharm. As for her ghastly find within the hut, John Ames had speedilyquieted her fears on that head. This Shiminya was a wizard of note, andportions of the human anatomy were occasionally used by such in theirdisgusting and superstitious rites.

  "We have need of many things which thou hast in thy huts, Shiminya," hesaid, "for we are going to leave thee, and return to Sikumbutana"--thiswith design. "I, for instance, have no hat, and my clothes are torn. Ineed further thy rifle, or rather the rifle of Government, and all thecartridges thou hast. Rise, therefore, and show us where such may befound. But first I will bind thy hands."

  The countenance of the sorcerer, which had brightened up, fell at this.Nidia, at a word from John Ames, having searched in the huts for thenecessary thongs, the binding was effected in the most masterly manner.Then, forcing the prisoner into the hut where Nidia had made herstartling discovery, John Ames set to work to ransack the place.Luckily, it was a very store-house of European goods, which Shiminya,being of an avaricious turn, had exacted from his clients and dupes andkept hoarded up here. Most of the articles of wear, though of coarseand shoddy make, were new; and, best of all, there were four packets ofMartini-Henry cartridges stowed away in the thatch; for here was one whoknew where to look for that kind of contraband goods.

  "I am now going to kill thee, Shiminya," said John Ames, when he hadselected, not all he wanted, but all he would be able to carry.

  The wizard looked scared, for well he knew how richly he deserved deathat the hand of every white man in the land, and this one he believed tobe quite capable of carrying out his threat. But the cunning rogueshrewdly played upon his best stop, and kept reiterating all he had donefor the _inkosikazi_ when she had appealed to him for protection,frightened and exhausted and alone.

  "Yet it is necessary that I should slay thee, Shiminya, for althoughthou hast done this for the _inkosikazi_, I know that thou lovest menot; and if I spare thee, how long will it be before thou art running infront of Madula's people, and crying, `This way hath Jonemi gone'?"

  And turning to Nidia, he asked her to go outside, saying that he wouldjoin her in a moment. Then, being alone with his captive, he took up aheavy knobkerrie.

  "Now, Shiminya. Thy death is near," he said, raising the club.

  But the wizard was another instance to the contrary of the cut-and-driedidea that cruelty and cowardice are bound to go hand in hand. Nofurther appeal for mercy did he make. Not a word did he utter. With alast look of hate glowing in his snaky eyes, he put forth his skull, asthough to meet the blow. But the other lowered his weapon.

  "I give thee thy life, Shiminya," he said. "Should the time ever come,remember that thy life lay within my hand and I gave it thee."

  The wizard murmured assent. Of a truth he felt that the jaws of Deathhad been opened very wide before him, and then closed.

  "But I trust thee not, so I will leave thee here bound," went on JohnAmes. "It will not be long ere thy people find thee out."

  He tied his prisoner fast by the feet to the pole of the hut, and wasjust leaving him, when Shiminya exclaimed--

  "_'Nkose_, make, I pray thee, the door very fast. Do not only tie it.Thrust also a stout stick through the fastenings."

  "Why so?" said John Ames in amazement.

  "Animals might get in. And I am helpless."

  "Lupiswana, for one?"

  "_Au_! Jonemi knows everything," replied the sorcerer, with a halfsmile.

  "I see. Yes; I will see that the door is fast. _Hlala-gahle_,Shiminya."

  "Now we must leave," he said, rejoining Nidia, and then setting to workto bar up the wizard in his own den. Then, as they stepped forth, hetold her how he had designedly caused the latter to feel himself withinthe very portal of death, in order that he might the more thoroughlyreal
ise how entirely his life had been given him. If there was any goodin the man he would appreciate this act of clemency, explained JohnAmes.

  She looked at him in admiration.

  "What an ingenious idea!" she said. "But there must be some good in himor he would have killed me when I was in his power."

  "There is that in his favour. Yet I wish I could think that he had noworse object in view in not killing you. He is one of the Abantwana'Mlimo, and I have had my eye on him for some time. The other man worea police uniform, you say? You were not able to catch his name?"

  "No. You see, I don't understand a word of the language."

  "H'm. That's a pity, for your description of him almost tallies withthat of the greatest rascal unhung, and whom I hope will not very longremain unhung."

  "This is not the way I came in by," said Nidia. "Look. I don'tremember that water-hole."

  They had gained the river-bed, and before them lay a still deep pool.But the grisly remains which lay beneath its placid waters rose not upin judgment against the cruel murderer, who sat bound in his own den upabove; and little did they who now passed it dream of the shriekingtragedy of which it had more than once been the scene in the dead ofnight. And the wizard? At that moment even he was beginning to tasteof some of the terror which he had delighted in meting out to hishelpless victims, for he himself was now helpless, and the evil beasthaving returned, and being by some mysterious instinct aware of thefact, was tearing and scratching and growling at the fastenings of thehut door in order to get at its more evil master, who, for his part, inspite of the extra precaution, was momentarily growing more and moreanxious lest it should succeed. One taste of white flesh he hadpromised his "familiar"! The probability was that ere the day shouldclose it would have gorged its fill of black.