CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
IN STATE OF SIEGE.
There can be no doubt but that, during the period of the rising, andespecially during the earlier half of the same, the township of Bulawayowas a very uncomfortable place indeed.
The oft-recurring scares, necessitating the crowding of, at any rate,the bulk of its inhabitants into the laagers at night, contributed inthe main to this. With instances of the fell unsparing ferocity whichattended the rebel stroke--sudden, swift, and unexpected--fresh in themind of everybody, citizens were chary of exposing themselves and theirfamilies to a like visitation. Private residences straggling over thesurburban stands were abandoned for the greater security of thetemporary forts which had been hastily but effectively formed out ofsome of the principal buildings in and around the township itself; andthe comfort and privacy of home-life had perforce to be exchanged for anovercrowded, hotch-potch, barrack sort of existence; men, women, andchildren of all sorts and sizes herding together, hugger-mugged, underevery conceivable form of racket and discomfort, and under the mostinadequate conditions of area and convenience. Rumour, in itsmany-tongued and wildest form, filled the air, gathering in volume, andfrequently in wildness, with the advent of every fresh batch ofrefugees. For from all sides these came flying in--prospectors, miners,outlying settlers with their families, some with a portion of theirworldly goods, others with none at all, and fortunate in having escapedwith their lives where others had not. For it soon became manifest thatsuch events as the massacre of the Hollingworths and the Inglefields,and the fight and resolute defence at Jekyll's Store, were but samplesof what had taken place--or was still going on--all over the country.Haggard fugitives, gaunt with starvation, stony-eyed with days andnights of deadly peril for close companionship, nerves shattered by themost horrible recollections, and apprehension worked up to the acutestphase thereby--continued to arrive, each and all bringing the same taleof treachery and ruthlessness and blood, deepening on every hand thegloom and anxiety of the situation--anxiety on behalf of those not yetaccounted for, mingling with an apprehensive looking forward to how itwas all going to end, and when. The necessaries of life went up tofamine prices, and then the enemy began to invest the town.
Southward, crouching lion-like, among the Matyamhlope rocks; on thenorth, occupying the site of the old Bulawayo kraal, and in possessionof the "Government" House which the presumptuous white man had erectedupon the former seat of the departed king, overhanging, like a darkcloud, the township beneath, or again making fierce dashes upon trafficwhich should attempt the eastward way, he mustered in all his savagemight--an ever-present menace. But the way to the west, for someunaccountable reason, was left open.
Those in charge of the safety of the township had their hands full.They might sally forth in force, as they frequently did, with the objectof rolling back the danger that threatened; an object sometimesaccomplished, sometimes not, for the rolling back was not invariably allon one side. But whichever way the attempt would go, the wily foe wassure to be in position again almost immediately, whence, massed aroundthe very edifice that symbolised the domination of those threatened, thedefiant thunder of his war-song would reach their ears.
Of all the narrow escapes from the widespread massacre which at thattime were in everybody's mouth, none perhaps commanded general attentionso much as that of Nidia Commerell. It was so fraught with the dramaticelement, being in fact not one escape, but a series of them. Herpersonality, too, imparted to it an additional interest; this refinedand attractive girl, brought up amid every comfort, suddenly to bethrown by rude contrast from the luxurious appointments of her peacefulEnglish home into the red surroundings of massacre and of death. Again,the circumstances of her wanderings appealed strongly to the romanticside, and people looked knowingly at each other, and pronounced JohnAmes to be a singularly fortunate individual--would be, at least, wereit not for the fact that nobody knew whether he was alive or dead;indeed, the latter contingency seemed the more probable.
There was one to whom Nidia's reappearance was as little short ofrestoration to life for herself, and that one was Mrs Bateman, for toher the girl was more than all the world put together--far more than herown husband, and she had no children. When the first tidings of theoutbreak, and the massacre of the Hollingworths, had come in, the poorwoman had been simply frantic. The fact that Nidia had not beenincluded in the tragedy, but had disappeared, brought with it smallcomfort. She pictured her darling in the power of brutal savages, orwandering alone in the wilderness to perish miserably of starvation andexhaustion; perhaps, even, to fall a prey to wild animals. Was it forthis she had allowed her to leave her English home "for a peep into wildlife," as they had put it when the much debated question had arisen?Not even the dreadful task of breaking the news to Nidia's relativesoccurred to her now, her grief was too whole-hearted, too unmixed. Herhusband came in for a convenient safety-valve, though. Why had heinduced either of them to come near such a hateful country? He was thereal murderer, not these vile savages; and having with admirable andusual feminine logic clapped the saddle on the wrong horse to herheart's content, and caused that estimable engineer mildly to wish hehad never been born, she hunted him off with one of the relief forces,together with every man she could succeed in pressing into her service.Indeed, it used to be said that, could she have had her way, just aboutevery available man in Bulawayo would have been started off on thatparticular search, leaving all the other women and children, herselfincluded, to take their chance. And then, when her grief had reachedthe acutest pitch of desperation, the missing girl had been found.Thenceforward nothing mattered. The place might be attacked nightly byall the Matabele in Rhodesia for all she cared. She had got her darlingback again.
Back again--yes. But this was not the same Nidia. The bright sunnyflow of spirits was gone, likewise the sweet equanimity and caressing,teasing, provocative little ways. This Nidia had come back so changed.There was a tired, hunted look in her eyes, a listlessness of speech andmanner such as might have suited her twenty years thence, after anindifferent experience of life _interim_, but now was simply startlingas a contrast. She talked but little, and of her escape and the mannerof it, seemed to care to talk least of all. The part John Ames hadborne in that escape she took care to make widely known, but when alonewith her friend reference to him had the effect of causing her to burstinto tears in the most unexpected and therefore alarming fashion. Thisseemed not unnatural. The terrible experiences the poor girl had gonethrough were calculated to unhinge her; nor was it strange she shouldgrieve over the tragic fate which had almost certainly overtaken the manwho had been her sole guide and protector during those terrible days,whose sagacity and resource had brought her in safety through everyperil that threatened. It was in the nature of things she should sogrieve, even had they not been on very friendly terms before. There wasnothing for it but time, thought Susie Bateman--time and change ofscene; and with a view to the latter she hinted at the advisability ofrisking the journey down-country, for, strange to say, the enemy hadrefrained from intercepting the coach traffic on the Mafeking road.This proposal, however, was met by Nidia with a very decided negative.
These two were fortunately exempt from the crowding and discomfort ofthe laagers, through the fact that the house owned by the absent Batemanwas situated within about a stone's throw of one of the latter. Shouldoccasion really arise, they would, of course, be obliged to take refugetherein; but in the mean time they could afford to ignoreunsubstantiated scares, for there were not wanting those who made it--literally in some instances--a labour of love to keep extra and specialwatch over this particular household. Moseley and Tarrant, forinstance, who were among the defenders of the township; Carbutt, thetall, good-looking man who had figured prominently in the fight atJekyll's Store; and several others. Leave it to them, had been theirassurance. If real necessity arose, they would see to it that the twoladies should be within the laager in ample time. Meanwhile they needtake no notice of the ordina
ry regulation scare, but just sit still inpeace and quietness.
They were thus sitting a few days after Nidia's return, when the latterstartled her friend by an apparently insane proposal. "Let's go for abike ride, Susie; a real good long one."
"Great Heavens! Is the child mad? Why, we'd run into those hatefulblack wretches before we'd gone a couple of miles. They're all round usthick as bees. Why, we could see them no further than Government Houseonly this morning."
"That's just the way I wanted to go. It would be such fun to see hownear we could get, and then skim away downhill again. They'd look sosold."
"Haven't you had enough of that sort of thing yet, Nidia? If I had beenthrough one-tenth of what you have, I'd never want to go adventuring anymore."
"Perhaps I've contracted a taste that way now," was the reply, with aweariful laugh. "But anything rather than sit still as we are doing. Iwant a little excitement--a stirring up."
The other stared in wild amazement. Was the child really going off herhead? she thought again. But a knock on the open door announced theadvent of visitors, and lo! two men bronzed and coatless, according tothe fashion in Rhodesia, swept off their broad-brimmed hats and entered.They were, in fact, Tarrant and Carbutt, and at sight of them Nidiabrightened up somewhat.
"Well, and what's the latest in the way of scares?" she began, after theexchange of greetings.
"None at present, Miss Commerell," replied Carbutt. "Things are slack.We shall have to go and have another slap at the niggers up yonder, tokeep the rust off. They are getting altogether too cheeky, squattingaround Government House its very self."
"That'll make a little excitement," said Nidia. "We can watch yourdeeds of derring-do from here through the glasses."
"Heavens, no!" said Mrs Bateman, with fervour. "I don't want to see orhear anything more of those dreadful wretches, except that they've allbeen shot."
"By the way, there is a small item in the way of the latest," saidTarrant, carelessly. "Another man has rolled in who had been given upas a dead 'un."
"Yes. Is it anybody we know?" asked Nidia, quickly.
"I rather think it is," returned Tarrant, watching her face yet whilenot seeming to. "Ames of Sikumbutana."
Nidia caught her breath with a sort of gasp, and her whole face lit up.
"Not John Ames?" she cried, as though hanging on the answer. Then, asTarrant nodded assent, "Oh, I am glad!"
And then all of Nidia's old self seemed to return. She poured forthquestion upon question, hardly waiting to be answered. How had heescaped? Where was he, and when was he coming to see her? and so on--and so on.
"He's rather close on the subject, Miss Commerell," Tarrant replied."He has a yarn about being chevvied by niggers and tumbling over a_dwala_, and lying unconscious--and then some niggers who knew himpiloting him in. He asked after you the first thing, just as if you hadnever been away from here; and the odd part of it is, he didn't seem inthe least surprised to hear you were safe and sound, and quite allright."
But the oddness of John Ames' lack of astonishment did not strike Nidiajust then. She talked on, quite in her old way--now freely, too--on thesubject of her escape and wanderings, making much of the humorous sidethereof, and more of the judgment and courage and resource of her guide.Her voice had a glad note about it; a very carol of joy and reliefseemed to ring out in every tone. Ever unconventional, it neveroccurred to her to make the slightest attempt to disguise her feelings.If she was glad that the man who had done so much for her had returnedsafe and sound, it was not in her to conceal that fact.
"Phew! she's giving away the show," Tarrant was thinking to himself."That first shot of mine _re_ John Ames was a plumb centre. I'll havethe crow over old Moseley now. Lucky John Ames!"
But at heart he was conscious of a certain not altogether to becontrolled sinking. He was not without a weakness for Nidia himself;now, however, in a flash he recognised its utter futility, and was fartoo much a man of the world not to realise that the sooner he curedhimself of it the better.
Upon one other the change in Nidia's manner was not lost, and thediscovery struck Susie Bateman with such wild amazement that she atfirst refused to entertain it. Here, then, lay the secret of the girl'sfits of depression and generally low spirits. Such were not due to herrecent terrible experiences. She had been secretly grieving on accountof the man who had shared them, or why this sudden and almost miraculousrestoration which the news of his safety had effected? She recalled herhalf-playful, half-serious warning to Nidia during their earlieracquaintance with this man--a warning more than once repeated, too.That had been out of consideration for the man; but that it should everhave been needed on Nidia's own account--oh, Heavens! the idea wasghastly, if it were not so incredible Nidia, who had renounced airilythe most alluring possibilities more than once, now to throw herselfaway upon a mere nobody! Nidia, who had never taken any of themseriously in her life, to succumb in this fashion! No, it could not beallowed. It could be nothing but the result of propinquity, and dangermutually shared. She must be saved from this at all costs. And thenthe good woman recognised uneasily that John Ames would be rather adifficult person to defeat, once he had made up his mind to opposition.Ah! but she had one card to play, one weapon wherewith to deal a blow towhich one of his mould would be peculiarly vulnerable.
The while she watched Nidia closely. But for the discovery she hadmade, she would have rejoiced to see her darling so completely her oldself, all brightness and animation as she chatted away with the twovisitors; now that very gladsomeness was as a poisoned and rankling dartto the dismayed observer, for it confirmed all her direst suspicions.Susie Bateman's Christianity was about on a par with that of the averageBritish female, in that she would have looked sourly askance at anybodywho should refuse to attend church, yet just then she would have given agreat deal to learn that Tarrant's report was erroneous, and that JohnAmes was at that moment lying among the granite wilds of the Matopos, aslifeless as the granite itself, with half a dozen Matabele assegaisthrough him.
Such aspirations, however, were as futile as they usually are, and thebest proof of the truth of Tarrant's story lay in the real objectivepresence of the subject thereof; for hardly had the two men departedwhen they were replaced by a third--even John Ames him-self.
John Ames, Native Commissioner: A Romance of the Matabele Rising Page 25
