The Induna's Wife. Mitford Bertram

has been done before can be done again. I have struck down more of the enemies of our nation than the King himself. One royal spear—one white shield is as good to sit under as another; and—it is time our new nation sat down under its second king.”

      “Great dreams, Untúswa,” said Lalusini, with a smile that had something of sadness in it.

      “Great acts shouldst thou say rather, for I am no dreamer of dreams,” I answered bitterly. “Ha! do I not lead the whole nation in war? for, of late, Kalipe is old, and stiff in the limbs. One swift stroke of this broad spear, and the nation will be crying ‘Bayéte’ to him who is its leader in war. Ah! ah! What has happened before can happen again.”

      But here I stopped, for I was referring darkly to the death of that Great Great One, the mighty Tshaka, from whose loins my inkosikazi had sprung. Yet no anger did she show.

      “So shall we be great together at last, Lalusini, and my might in war, and thy múti combined, shall indeed rule the world,” I went on. “Ha! I will make believe to go on this tagati business, but to-night I will return in the darkness, and to-morrow—whau!—it may indeed be that the appearance of the Red Death has presaged the accession of a new King—even as those dogs, who were burnt to-day, did declare. How now for that, Lalusini?”

      “The throne of Dingiswayo is older than that of Senzangakona, and both are older than that of Matyobane,” she answered. “Yet I know not—my múti tells me that the time is not yet. Still, it will come—it will come.”

      “It will come—yes, it will come—when we two have long since been food for the alligators,” I answered impatiently. “The King’s word is that I slay this horror—this tagati thing—by the foil of the moon. What if I fail, Lalusini?”

      “Fail? Fail? Does he who rolled back the might of the Twin Stars of Zulu talk about failure? Now, nay, Untúswa—now, nay,” she answered, with that strange and wonderful smile of hers.

      “I know not. Now cast me ‘the bones,’ Lalusini, that I may know what success, if any, lieth before me against the Red Terror.”

      “The bones? Ha! Such methods are too childish for such as I, Untúswa,” she answered lightly. “Yet—wait—”

      She ceased to speak and her face clouded, even as I had seen it when she was about to fall into one of her divining trances. Anxiously I watched her. Her lips moved, but in silence. Her eyes seemed to look through me, into nowhere. Then I saw she was holding out something in her hand. Bending over I gazed. She had held nothing when we sat down nor was there any place of concealment whence she could have produced anything. But that which lay in her hand was a flat bag, made of the dressed skin of an impala. Then she spoke—and her voice was as the voice of one who talks in a dream.

      “See thou part not from this, Untúswa. Yet seek not to look within—until such time as thy wit and the wit of others fail thee—or the múti will be of no avail—nay more, will be harmful. But in extremity make use of what is herein—in extremity only—when at thy wit’s end.”

      Still held by her eyes, I reached forth my hand and took the múti bag, securing it round my neck by a stout leather thong which formed part of the hide from whence the bag had been cut. As I did so, Lalusini murmured of strange things—of ghost caves, and of whole impis devoured in alligator-haunted swamps—and of a wilder, weirder mystery still, which was beyond my poor powers of understanding—I being but a fighter and no izanusi at all. Then her eyes grew calm, and with a sigh as of relief she was herself again.

      Now I tried to go behind what she had been saying, but it was useless. She had returned from the spirit world, and being once more in this, knew not what she had seen or said while in the other. Even the múti pouch, now fastened to my neck, she glanced upon as though she had never seen it before.

      “Go now, Untúswa,” she said.

      We embraced each other with great affection, and Lalusini with her own hands armed me with my weapons—the white shield, and the great dark-handled assegai which was the former gift of the King, also my heavy knobkerrie of rhinoceros horn, and three or four light casting spears—but no feather crest or other war adornments did I put on. Then I stepped forth.

      No armed escort was to accompany me, for I must do this thing alone. But I had chosen one slave to bear such few things as I should require. Him I found awaiting me at the gate of the kraal.

      It was evening when I stepped forth—evening, the busiest and cheeriest time of the day—yet my kraal was silent and mournful as though expecting every moment the messengers of death. The cattle within their enclosure stood around, lowing impatiently, for the milking was neglected; and men, young and old, sat in gloomy groups, and no women were to be seen. These murmured a subdued farewell, for not only was I, their chief and father, about to sally forth upon an errand of horror and of gloom, but in the event of failure on my part, who should stand between them and the King’s word of doom?

      Through these I strode with head erect as though proceeding to certain success—to a sure triumph. When without the gate I turned for a moment to look back. The rim of the sinking sun had just kissed the tips of the forest trees on the far sky-line, and his rays, like darts of fire, struck full upon my largest hut, which was right opposite the great gate of the kraal. And there against the reed palisade in front of the door stood Lalusini, who had come to see the last of me, ere I disappeared into gloom and distance. Au! I can see her now, my beautiful wife, as she stood there, her tall and splendid form robed as it were in waving flames of fire, where the last glory of the dying sun fell full upon her. And through the dazzle of this darting light, her gaze was fixed upon me, firm and unflinching. Yes, I can see her now as I saw her then, and at times in my dreams, Nkose, old man as I am, my heart feels sore and heavy and broken as it did then. For as I returned her parting gesture of farewell, and plunged into the forest shades, at that moment a voice seemed to cry in my ears that I should behold her no more. In truth was I bewitched.

      “Will you not rest a while, lord, and suffer me to prepare food, for we have travelled fast and far?”

      The voice was that of my attendant slave, and it struck upon my ears as a voice from the spirit world, so wrapped up was I in the gloom of my own thoughts. Now I glanced at the sky and judged the night to be more than half through. And we had marched since the setting of the sun. But the light of the half moon was sufficient for us, for the forest trees were of low stature and we were seldom in complete darkness.

      “Rest a while? Not so, Jambúla,” I answered. “Are we not on the King’s errand? and from hence to the full of the moon is not far.”

      “The forest is loud with the roarings of strange ghost-beasts, my father; and the time of night when such have most power must already be here. And we are but two,” he urged, though with great deference.

      “And what are such to me—to me!” I answered, “I who am under the protection of great and powerful múti? Go to, Jambúla. Art thou turning fearful as time creeps upon thee?”

      “I fear nothing within touch of thy múti, father,” he answered, liking not the question.

      And then, indeed, I became alive to the meaning of the man’s words, for strange and fearful noises were abroad among the shadows on either hand, low sad wailings as of the ghosts of them that wander in darkness and pain, mingling with the savage howls of ramping beasts into whose grim bodies the spirits of many fighters had passed, to continue their fierce warring upon such as still trod this earth in the flesh. And over and above these came the mighty, muffled, thunderous roar of a lion.

      But those sounds, many and terrifying as they were, held no fears for me—indeed, they had hitherto fallen upon deaf ears—so filled was my soul with forebodings of another kind. Now, however, a quick, startled murmur on the part of my follower caused me to halt.

      Right in front I saw a huge shape—massive and shaggy—and I saw the green flash of eyes, and the baring of mighty jaws in the moonlight. Then up went