CHAPTER XXI.

  "THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS FROM THE NORTH."

  From where they stood the ground fell away in great wooded spurs to abroad level valley, or rather plain,--shut in on the farther side byrolling ranges of forest-clad hills. The valley bottom, green andundulating, was watered by numerous streams, flashing like bands ofsilver ribbon in the golden glow of the newly risen sun. Clustering hereand there, five or six together, were kraals, circular and symmetrical,built on the Zulu plan, and from their dome-shaped grass huts blue linesof smoke were arising upon the still morning air. Already, dappling thesward, the many coloured hides of innumerable cattle could be seenmoving, and the long drawn shout and whistle of these who tended themrose in faint and harmonious echo to the height whence they looked down.Patches of broad, flag-like maize, too, stood out, in darker squares,from the verdancy of the grass, and bird voices in glad note made merryamong the cool, leafy, forest slopes. Coming in contrast to the steamyheat, the dank and gloomy equatorial vegetation, the foul and noisomesurroundings of the cannibal villages, this smiling land of plenty didindeed offer to him who now first beheld it a fair and blithesome sight.

  But another object attracted and held the attention of the spectatoreven more than all. This was an immense kraal. It lay on the slope atleast ten miles away, but with the aid of his glass, which had beenreturned to him from among the slavers' loot, Laurence could bring itvery near indeed. The yellow-domed huts lay six or seven deep betweentheir dark, ringed fences, the great circular space in the middle--the_isigodhlo_, or inclosure of royal dwellings partitioned off at theupper end--why, the place might have been the chief kraal of Cetywayo orDingane miraculously transferred to this remote and unexplored region.

  "Lo! Imvungayo. The seat of the Great Great One--the Strong Wind thatburns from the North," murmured Ngumunye, interpreting his glance ofinquiry. "Come--let us go down."

  As the great _impi_, which up till now had been marching "at ease,"emerged upon the plain, once more the warriors formed into rank, andadvanced in serried columns--singing a war-song. Immediately the wholeland was as a disturbed beehive. Men, women, and children flocked forthto welcome them, the latter especially, pressing forward with eagercuriosity to obtain a glimpse of the white man, the first of the speciesthey had ever seen, and the air rang with the shrill, excited cries ofastonishment wherewith they greeted his appearance, and the calm,unruffled way in which he ignored both their presence and amazement.Much singing followed; the stay-at-homes answering the war-song of thewarriors in responsive strophes--but there was little variety in these,which consisted largely, as it seemed to Laurence, of exuberantreferences to "The Spider" and praise of the king.

  As they drew near the great kraal, two companies of girls, arrayed inbeaded dancing dresses, advanced, waving green boughs, and, halting infront of the returning _impi_, sang a song of welcome. Their voices weremelodious and pleasing to the last degree, imparting a singular charm tothe somewhat monotonous repetition of the wild chant--now in a softmusical contralto, now shrilling aloft in a note of pealing gladness.Laurence, who was beginning to feel vividly interested in this strangerace of valiant fighters, failed not to note that many of these girlswere of extraordinarily prepossessing appearance, with their tall,beautiful figures and supple limbs, their clear eyes and white teeth,and bright, pleasing faces. Then suddenly song and dance alike ceased,and the women, parting into two companies, the whole _impi_ movedforward again, marching between them.

  The huge kraal was very near now, the palisade lined with the faces ofeager spectators. But Laurence, quick to take in impressions, noticedthat here there were no severed heads stuck about in ghastly ornament.This splendid race, as pitiless and unsparing in victory as it wasintrepid in the field, was clearly above the more monstrous andrevolting forms of savage barbarity. Then all further reflections werediverted into an entirely new channel, for the whole _impi_--tossing theunarmed right hand aloft--thundered aloud the salute royal, then fellprostrate:

  "_Bayete!_"

  The roar--sudden, and as one man--of that multitude of voices wasstartling, well-nigh terrifying. Laurence, unprepared for any such move,found himself standing there--he alone, erect--while around him, as somuch mown corn, lay prostrate on their faces this immense company ofarmed warriors. Then he took in the reason.

  Just in front of where the _impi_ had halted rose a small cluster oftrees crowning a knoll. Beneath the shade thus formed was a group ofmen, in a half-squatting, half-crouching attitude--all save one.

  Yes. One alone was standing--standing a little in advance of thegroup--standing tall, erect, majestic--in a splendid attitude of easeand dignity, as, with head thrown slightly back, he darted his clearexpressive eyes proudly over the bending host. A man in the prime oflife--a perfect embodiment of symmetry and strength--he wore no attemptat gew-gaws or meretricious adornment. His shaven head was crowned withthe usual _isicoco_, or ring, whose jetty blackness seemed to render therich copper hue of the smooth skin even lighter, and for all clothing hewore a _mutya_ of lion-skin and leopards' tails. Yet LaurenceStanninghame, gazing upon him, recognized a natural dignity--nay, amajesty enthroning this nearly naked savage such as he had never seenquite equalled in the aspect or deportment of any other living man.Clearly this was the king--Tyisandhlu--"The Strong Wind that burns fromthe North." Removing his hat with one hand he raised the other abovehis head, and repeated the salute royal as he had heard it from thewarriors.

  The king acknowledged his greeting by a brief murmur. Then he calledaloud:

  "Rise up, my children."

  As one man that huge assembly sprang to its feet,--and the quiveringrattle of spear-hafts was as a winter gale rushing through a leaflesswood; with one voice it began to thunder forth the royal titles.

  "O Great Spider! Terrible Spider! Blood-drinking Spider, whose bite isdeath! O Serpent! O Elephant! Thunderer of the heavens! Divider of theSun! House Burner! O Destroyer! O All Devouring Beast!" These were someof the titles used--but the praisers would always bring back the _bonga_to some attribute of the spider. Laurence, who understood the system,noted this peculiarity, differing, as it did, from the Zulu practice ofmaking the serpent the principal term of praise. Finally, as by signal,the shouting ceased, and the principal leaders of the _impi_, disarming,crept forward, two by two, to the king's feet.

  Laurence was too far off to hear what was said, for the tone was low,but he judged, and rightly, that the chiefs were giving an account ofthe expedition. At length the king dismissed them, and pointing with theshort knob-stick he held in his hand, ordered that he himself should bebrought forward.

  The ranks of the warriors opened to let him through, and as, having beencareful to disarm in turn, he advanced, Laurence could not repress atightening thrill of the pulses as he wondered what fate it was, asregarded himself, that should now fall from the lips of this despot,whose very name meant a terror and a scourge.

  Tyisandhlu for some moments uttered no word, but stood gazing fixedlyupon his prisoner in contemplative silence. Laurence, for his part, wasstudying, no less attentively, the king. The finely shaped head andlofty brow--the clear eyes and oval face, culminating in a short beard,whose jetty thickness just began to show here and there a streak ofgray,--the noble stature and erect carriage, impressed him even more,thus face to face, than at a distance.

  "They say thou bearest the Sign of this nation, O stranger," began theking, speaking in the Zulu tongue, "and that to this thou owest thylife."

  "That is true, Great Great One," answered Laurence.

  "But how know we that the Sign is genuine?" continued Tyisandhlu.

  "By this, Father of the People of the Spider. Not once has it stoodbetween me and death, but twice, and that at the hands of your people."

  A murmur of astonishment escaped his hearers. But the king said:

  "When was this other time?--for such would, in truth, be something of atest."

  Then Laurence told the tale of his conflict with the Ba-gcatya warriorsbene
ath the tree-fern by the lagoon--and the murmur among the listenersdeepened.

  "I was but one man, and they were twelve," he concluded. "Twelve of thefinest warriors in the world, even the warriors of the People of theSpider. Yet they could not harm me, see you, Great Great One. They couldnot prevail against the man who held--who wore the Sign of the Spider."

  Now an emphatic hum arose on the part of all who heard--and indeed therehad been a silence that might be felt while he had been narrating histale. More than ever was Laurence convinced that in deciding to tell ithe had acted with sound judgment. He had little or nothing to fear fromthe vengeance of the relatives of those he had slain--for he had seenenough of these people to guess that they did not bear a grudge over thefortunes of war--over losses sustained in fair and open fight. And, onthe other hand, he had immensely strengthened his own case.

  "Yet, you made common cause with these foul and noisome _Izimu_,"[1]said the king, shifting somewhat his ground. "These carrion dogs, whodevour one another, even their own flesh and blood?"

  "I but spared one of their villages, O Great North Wind. For the rest,how many have I left standing?"

  "That is so," said Tyisandhlu, still gazing fixedly at his prisoner.Then he signed the latter to retire among the warriors, and, turning,gave a few rapid directions in a low voice to an attendant.

  In the result, a group of armed warriors was seen hurrying forward, andin its midst a man, unarmed--a man ragged and covered with dried blood,and with his arms ignominiously bound behind him. And wild amazement wasin store for Laurence. He had reckoned himself the sole survivor of themassacre. Yet now in this helpless and ill-treated prisoner herecognized no less a personage than Lutali.

  His body and limbs slashed with many spear-wounds--his clothing cut toribbons--his half-starved and filthy aspect--as he was hustled forwardinto the king's presence, the Arab would have looked a pitiable objectenough but for one thing. The dignity begotten of high descent andindomitable courage never left him--not for one moment. Weak as he waswith loss of blood and the pain of his untended and mortifyingwounds--the glance of his eyes, no less than the set of his keen,hawk-like face, was as proud, as fearless, as that of the king himself.

  "Down, dog!" growled the guards, flinging him forward on his face. "Lickthe earth at the feet of the Great North Wind, whose blast kills!"

  But immediately Lutali staggered to his feet, and the hell blast of hateand fury which shone from his eyes was perfectly demoniacal.

  "There is but one God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God!" he roared."Am I to prostrate myself before an infidel dog--the chief dog of a packof dogs? This for the scum!" And he spat full towards Tyisandhlu.

  An indescribable shiver of awe ran through the dense and serried ranksof armed warriors, followed by a terrible tumult.

  "_Au!_ he is mad!" cried some; while others clamoured, "Give him to us,Great Great One. We will put him to the fiery death!"

  But the king returned no word. It is even possible that his ownintrepid soul was moved to admiration by the sublime courage of thisman--his prisoner, bound, helpless, weakened--standing thus beforehim--before him at whose frown men trembled--face to face, and thusdefying him. One other who beheld it, the sight must have powerfullymoved, for with a lull in the tumult a voice rose clear and distinct:

  "Spare him, O Great Great One, for he is a brave man."

  If anyone had told Laurence Stanninghame but an hour earlier that he wasabout to commit so rash and suicidal an act as to beg the life ofanother at the hands of a grossly insulted despot, and in the face of anenraged nation, he would have scouted the idea as too weakly idiotic forwords. Yet, in fact, he had just committed that very act. Deep andsavage were the resentful growls that greeted his words. "_Au!_ hepresumes! He shares in the insult offered to the majesty of the king,"were some of the ominous mutterings that went forth.

  The king merely glanced in the direction of the speaker, and saidnothing. But Lutali, becoming aware for the first time of the presenceof his former confederate, turned towards the latter.

  "Ask not my life at the hands of these dogs, these unclean swine, Afa,"he cried;--"lo, Paradise awaits to receive the believer. I hasten to it;I enter it;" and he threw back his head fearlessly, while his eyes shonewith a fanatical glare.

  "Spare him, O king, for he is a brave man," urged Laurence again.

  "And so art thou, I think," replied Tyisandhlu, turning a somewhathaughty stare upon the speaker. Then he muttered, "Yet not this one."

  An interruption occurred; gruesome, grotesque. A number of figures,seeming to spring from no one knew where, were seen gliding forward.They were coal black from head to foot, and their faces were more likemasks than the human countenance, being bedaubed with some pigment thatgave each of them the aspect of possessing two huge goggle eyes. Butthese horrible beings seemed at first sight to have no arms and no legs,their whole anatomy being encased in a sort of black, hairy sacking,whence tails and streamers, also hairy, flapped in the air as theymoved. Hideous, indeed, they looked,--hideous and grotesque, halfreptile, half devil.

  They surrounded Lutali--all in dead silence, the guards precipitatelyfalling back to give them way. Then the king spoke, and his words weregentle and mocking:

  "Go now to thy Paradise, O believer; these will show thee the way._Hamba-gahle!_"

  He waved his hand, and, in obedience to the signal, the whole group ofblack horrors fastened upon the Arab and dragged him away. And from allwho beheld there went up a deep, chest note of exclamation that was partsatisfaction, part awe.

  The king, having received further reports and attended to other businessconnected with the army, withdrew. Laurence, watching the statelypersonality of this splendid savage retiring amid the groups of indunastowards the gate of the great kraal, felt his ever-present conjecturesas to his own fate merge in a vivid sense of interest. But Tyisandhluseemed to have forgotten his existence, for he bestowed no further wordupon him; however, he was taken charge of by Ngumunye, who assigned hima large hut within the royal kraal.

  FOOTNOTE:

  [1] Cannibals.