Page 9 of The Induna's Wife


  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  GEGESA'S TALE.

  For several days I went about as usual, to the eyes of men showing nodifference in my converse and behaviour. At first all would watch mefurtively, as though to observe what effect my loss would have on me, ifany; but this soon ceased as they saw no difference, and indeed this wasnot strange, for it is not our custom to allow ourselves to be affectedby the loss of a woman, more or less. There were plenty more women inthe nation, and I, Untuswa, the second commander of the King's hosts,could take as many wives as I chose. The King had given me thisparticular wife, and if he chose to take her from me, openly orsecretly, who might run his will against the will of the Great GreatOne, at whose word we held our lives?

  So men looked at it, but I--well, I looked at it from another point ofview. That the King's hand moved behind the matter I could see by theuniform silence with which it was treated, nor could I even overhear somuch as the "darkest" of talking among any of the people. But I wasawaiting my time, and to allay suspicion I took a new wife. She wasyoung and good-tempered, and was a daughter of Xulawayo, an induna ofrank, and a commander of high standing in the army, by reason of whichhe demanded much cattle in _lobola_ for her, all of which I paid himwithout objection. This astonished him greatly, nor could he sleep forthree nights for wishing he had demanded more. But I had an object inview, which was to bind so influential a leader as Xulawayo more closelyto me against the time for striking my blow.

  Now of this I never lost sight for a moment. Carefully I sounded my ownfollowers, and lost no opportunity of rendering myself popular among thearmy at large. Yet the game was a terribly risky one, and I felt as aman might who attempts to walk on a ridge of rock no wider than anassegai blade, with the depth of a whole mountain on either side. Butthe game was worth the risk, for I was playing for a throne and forrevenge.

  Now and again the King would rally me.

  "Taking new wives at last, Untuswa?" he would say. "_Whau_! but youhave been long content with old ones. How often have I told you thatwomen are like a bowl of _tywala_: delightful and stimulating whenfresh; but, when stale, sour and injurious, and the sooner thrown awaythe better."

  And I would laugh pleasantly at the royal wit, and send _lobola_ for yetanother girl, this one, as before, the daughter of an influentialfighting induna; but, for all that, the loss of Lalusini was none theless present in my mind, and the desire for my projected vengeance grew,the longer that vengeance was delayed.

  Two things, however, I observed, and these did not look well for myplot. One was that never now would Umzilikazi commune with me alone asin the old friendly manner of former days; the other that he neverappeared without a strong body-guard in attendance, fully armed, andcomposed of young warriors chosen from houses whose fidelity to theHouse of Matyobane was beyond suspicion, they being themselves of thatHouse. But my time was coming, and that I knew, for the verydesperation and assurance of a man who values not his own life.

  There were times when, looking upon the _muti_ bag--Lalusini's last giftto me, which I ever wore--I felt moved to open it. But her words wereexplicit. It was only to be opened in the very last extremity, and suchextremity I felt had not yet been reached. So I forebore.

  And now, _Nkose_, there befell one of those occurrences which willbefall even the wisest and coolest and most experienced of any of uswhen least we look for it, which are destined to alter all our mostcarefully laid plans, for there is ever some moment in life when thewisest and most carefully thinking man is no better than a fool. Andthis is how it came about.

  One evening I was walking back, along the river bank, to my kraal,alone--thinking, as ever, upon my now fast ripening scheme--when I heardmy name called out in a quavering croak. Turning, I beheld theshrivelled figure of an old crone, perched upon a point of rockoverhanging a long deep reach. Beside her was a bundle of sticks shehad been gathering.

  "Give me snuff, Untuswa, O Great Fighter," she cried, stretching out abony claw. "Give me snuff from that pretty box stuck in your ear, for Ihave none."

  I stepped aside, and, taking the horn tube from the lobe of my ear,poured half its contents into her skinny old hand, and as I did so Irecognised in the old witch one who had an evil repute among us for_Umtagati_; indeed, it was reported that she had been "smelt out" andkilled in the time of Tshaka, but had somehow managed to come to lifeagain, and had not been interfered with since because of our customunder which no one can be killed twice.

  She was very, very old--so old that beyond a wisp or two of white woolher scalp was entirely bald. Her limbs were mere bits of stick, towhich even her few rags of clothing would hardly cling. Looking at hersquatting there, I thought she would make an exact mate for old Gasitye,as I had seen him in the _tagati_ cave, squatting in like fashion; and Imust have laughed at the thought, for she said, with some show of fire:

  "Laugh, Untuswa, laugh, I am old and shrivelled, am I not? But that isa complaint you will never suffer from. Oh, no! Oh, no!"

  "What mean you, mother?" I said, pausing as I was about to continue onmy way, for there was that in her words which fitted not well in with mythoughts just then. "I am a fighting man, and such may reasonably notlive to grow old."

  "Ah, ah! A fighting man. Thou art more. He who would sit in the seatof the mighty is hardly likely to die of old age," she answered slowly,poking her head forward with a meaning chuckle.

  "Now," I thought, "this old witch knows too much. I will just drop herover into the river and make _her_ safe."

  But before I could do so, she again croaked out:

  "What will you give to know something, Untuswa? What will you give meif I tell you that which you would most like to learn?"

  The blood seemed to stand still within me at the words. "That which Iwould most like to learn"--the secret of Lalusini's disappearance, ofcourse. I strove to restrain all semblance of anxiety, but the dim eyesof the old hag seemed to pierce my thoughts through and through.

  "If it is indeed something I would like to learn, mother, then will Igive anything--not too great--you may choose to ask. But, beware offooling me with old women's tales."

  "Ha, ha! And the fate of the Daughter of the Great--is that an oldwoman's tale?"

  "Tell me of that, if you know it, mother," I said.

  "Ah, ah! If I know it. See now, Untuswa, I am old--so old that I am asthey of another world. And the other world moves about at night--andI--often I steal out at night and talk with those of another world."

  I murmured assent, and she went on.

  "See yon pool, Untuswa?" pointing up the river where the alligatorsdwelt, to whom were cast those whom the King had doomed to die. "Often,at night, I go out and sit over that pool that I may talk with theghosts of them who have died there; and they come creeping up, thoseghosts of dead men, all dripping and bloody, as though fresh from thealligators' jaws. Ha! and we have such talks, I, old Gegesa, and thoseghosts of dead men--yes, and of women, too, Untuswa--of women, too;" andshe paused with a shrill cackle, and leered at me. "There was thyformer _inkosikazi_, Nangeza, she who died there, and she came up andtalked with me, saying she should soon have fitting company in the landof ghosts, for it was not healthy to be the _inkosikazi_ of Untuswa.And just then I heard steps--the footsteps of men--although it wasnight, and the neighbourhood of the pool was one of fear and of death.So I hid myself, Untuswa--crept away behind a stone which the moon threwinto a black shadow, and this is what I saw. Four great, fierce lookingmen came down to the brink of the rock which overhangs the pool, and intheir midst was a woman--"

  "A woman!" I echoed, staring at her.

  "_Eh-e_! a woman--tall and shapely and beautiful, _as a daughter of theGreat_."

  "What then?"

  I hissed the words rather than uttered them. Again that blood-wavesurged around my brain. I knew what was coming--knew the worst.

  "What then? This," went on the hag. "They led her to the brink of thepool, and were about to throw her in. But she s
poke, and her voice wasfirm and sweet, as the wind's whisper. `Lay not hands on me,' she said,`for I come of the greatest the world ever saw.' Then they refrained,and the foremost said, `Go in thyself, then, Daughter of the Great, forit is the word of the King. It is our lives or thine.' Then she lookedfor one moment in front of her, the moon full on her face, and droppedquietly over. And I heard the splash and the rush through the water, asthe alligators seized their meat, even as I have often heard it. Butwhile the moon was on her face, I knew her."

  "Who was she?" I whispered.

  "Lalusini, the daughter of that Great One, the founder of all nations.Thine _inkosikazi_, Untuswa."

  "And the men, who were they?"

  "They were chief among the King's slayers."

  "Their names? Did you not know them, Gegesa?"

  "Did I not know them? Ah, ah! who is there I do not know?" And shetold me the names of all four, and I laid them up in my memory; for Ithought how I would have those slayers let down by thongs over the edgeof the rock so that the alligators might eat them piece by piece--mightcrunch off first a foot, then a leg, and so on, as they dangled there.Oh, what vengeance should be mine!

  "But how do I know this is true, thou witch?" I said. "How can I tellit is not all a made-up story?"

  "What have I to gain by making it up? Have I not rather to gain by nottelling it? Go home, Untuswa, and be happy with your new wives; theyare young and bright-eyed, and round, as I was once. _Yau_! Restcontent now you know Lalusini can never return. A returning_inkosikazi_ is not always welcome; ha, ha!"

  I stood gazing at her in silence, and the old hag went on.

  "Yet it is better to lose an _inkosikazi_, if by that loss you sit inthe seat of a King! Ah, ah! Untuswa; there will be food for thealligators then."

  "Meanwhile they shall have some now. You have lived too long, Gegesa,_and you know too much_. I trust not that croaking old tongue. This isthe price I pay for thy news--the price it is worth."

  So saying, I picked her up by her ragged old blanket where it wasknotted round her, and before she had time to utter a cry, tossed herclean over the brink of the rock. I heard the splash in the waterbeneath, and without troubling to look over, I turned away.

  With the blood-wave surging around my brain, I strode quickly onward.Now the mystery of Lalusini's disappearance was a mystery no more. Anylast hope I might have clung to that she might one day reappear wasshattered. She had died as my first _inkosikazi_ had died, a death ofhorror and of blood. _Whau_! but other blood should flow--should flowin rivers--before many days had gone by. When the King had rid me ofNangeza I had been well pleased, for her pestilent tongue and eviltemper had gone far towards rendering life a weariness; but I had livedeven longer with Lalusini than with Nangeza, but so far from doing aughtthat should cause my love for her to decrease, Lalusini had taken carethat it should grow instead.

  By the time I reached my kraal, night had fallen. Entering my largehut, I called for Jambula the slave who had been with me in the slayingof the ghost-bull. By birth Jambula was of the Amaxosa, a numerous andwarlike people whose land is to the southward, as you know, _Nkose_.When a young man his family had been "eaten up" by order of its chief;and he, narrowly escaping with is life, had at last found refuge with atribe of Basuti, among whom we had captured him. And now I knew that ifthere was one man upon whose fidelity I could entirely reckon, that manwas Jambula.

  Having made sure that none could overhear us, to him now I opened theplot. His face lighted up with joy as he listened.

  "To-morrow, by this time, we shall both be ghosts in the shadow world,or I sit in the seat of Umzilikazi, and you among the _izinduna_ of thisnation. How like you that, Jambula?"

  "If you are dead, my father, I too am dead," he answered. "Not toosoon, either, is it to strike, for my eyes and ears have not been closedin these days, nor have those of the Great Great One. It is his life orours. The time when this place shall awaken hemmed in by thespear-points of the slayers is but a question of a few nights more orless."

  I believed this to be true, but even if it were not so it would havemade but little difference. The tale told me by old Gegesa had soinflamed my blood that I could wait no longer. Vengeance, now at once--now, before it escaped me. I could wait no more.

  A little while longer did Jambula and I whisper together. Then softlyand silently we stole forth into the night.