Ingonyama, with four or five _indunas_ stood at the upper end of the kraal overlooking the ceremonies. The chief was arrayed in a war-shirt of flowing hair. Over this he wore the magnificent lion's skin purchased from Dawes. It was arranged in such wise that the grinning open jaws crowned him as a head-dress, which, with the sweeping black mane falling around his shoulders, and the skin and tail, trailing far behind him on the ground, gave him a most formidable and ferocious appearance, as of course he intended it should. In his hand he held a short-handled, heavy battle-axe, and between his eyes was painted the small red disk.

He took no notice of Dawes, as the latter rode up and dismounted.

Indeed his attention was occupied with other matters, for the dance had ceased, and the warriors, forming up into companies, were marching up to where he was seated with his attendants. Then halting before their chief they began to sing, in long-drawn recitative, a series of strophes in which he was hailed by every extravagant t.i.tle, and endowed with every attribute of wisdom and valour and ferocity. This being ended, shields and weapons were raised aloft, and the companies, wheeling, filed back into the central place, and falling into their crescent formation took up the war-dance again with unabated vigour.

Ingonyama, not ill-pleased that his white "guest" should witness this testimony to his power and influence, sank back into a sitting posture, and motioned to the latter to follow his example. But Dawes pretended not to notice the invitation, and remained standing. He did notice, however, the shield-bearer holding the great white shield behind the chief, which instance of affectation of royal state he stored up for future use.

"Greeting, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, graciously, for by this time the native corruption of the trader's name had leaked out through his servants, and by it he was now known to all. "Where is your brother?"

meaning Gerard.

"Where?" repeated Dawes, taming to look round, as it were with indifferent surprise. "He should be here, though. He most have returned to the waggons for something. Still, he should be here."

It happened that just at that moment the chant of the dancing song had sunk rather low. Borne upon the still night air, faint and distant, there floated to the ears of those who were not taking part in the revelry, a long-drawn roar.

"_Igazi--pu_--_za_."

"_Hau_!" exclaimed Ingonyama, with a start, listening intently.

Again from the far hillside came the wild slogan. And now the _indunas_ echoed the astonishment of their chief. The guard on the ridge was aroused.

All manner of expressions flitted across Ingonyama's face--rage, mortification, intense puzzlement. The cry should have rung out loud and clear, considering the short distance which lay between the kraal and the ridge, whereas it sounded miles and miles away. The real fact, however, being that the first alarm was completely drowned by the noise and uproar of the war-dance, and the song in honour of the chief, and by this time the guards were far enough away in pursuit of Gerard. John Dawes felt every nerve thrill within him. The critical moment had arrived.

"Thou liest, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, and a look of stern and deadly meaning came over his features, grim and ferocious, scowling beneath the great jaws of the lion. "Thou liest, Jandosi. Thy brother has fled; _attempted_ to flee, rather," he added significantly; "for no man ever quitted the kraal of the Igazipuza without bidding farewell to its chief."

"Am I responsible for what he has done?" answered Dawes, coolly. "He is young, remember, and young blood is restless blood. Perchance he was tired of sitting still for ever."

"Am I a child--are these children, Jandosi, that you fill up our ears with such tales as this?" said the chief sternly. "Where is your brother?"

"Am I an owl--am I a bat, Ingonyama, that you would strain my eyes into seeing through the dark? If, as you say, my brother has fled, how then can I tell where he is at this moment? Rather should the question come from me to yourself, whom men name as an _Isa.n.u.si_ [witch-doctor, or seer] of renown."

"_Hau_!" burst from the councillors in wild amaze at the audacity of this white man.

"Your eyes?" echoed Ingonyama, and his voice came low and trembling with suppressed fury. "Your eyes, Jandosi? _Ha_! You shall not indeed _strain_ your eyes seeing through the dark, _for I will make them dark for ever_."

The fell meaning of the tone and words was plain to John Dawes. The crisis had come.

"Move not," he returned quickly, his decisive ringing tone arresting as by magic the signal which the chief was about to make. "Before that happens we will sit in darkness together. Stir but a finger, Ingonyama, and the tribe Igazipuzi may proceed to the election of a new chief."

With the muzzle of a revolver pointing full at his breast, the b.u.t.t in the hand of a man whose daring and resolution was known to all, no wonder Ingonyama should sit rigid and paralysed. His councillors shared his dazed immovability. What marvellous thing was to happen next, they thought?

Dawes, who was standing beside his horse, prepared for the first hostile move, had not raised his arm. He had merely brought the weapon to bear after the method known as "firing from the hip." To all outward appearance he was merely conversing rather animatedly with the chief.

The latter stared at him as though he could hardly believe his senses.

But there was the little round ring, pointing full upon his breast from barely six yards off. The merest pressure of a finger, and it would let out his life as he sat.

"You have treated us ill, Ingonyama," went on Dawes, sternly. "We have no quarrel with the people of the Zulu; on the contrary, we are at peace. Yet you have kept us here against our will, and treated us as enemies. In two days 'my tongue' speaks at Undini, in the ears of the Great Great One, by whose light _you_ live."

This reference to the king, by one of his favourite t.i.tles, had a strange effect upon this chief, whom the speaker by this time more than half suspected of being a rebellious and plotting va.s.sal. For an instant it seemed that the latter's uncontrollable rage would triumph over his fear of death. But he only said, with a sneer--

"Not so, Jandosi. 'Your tongue,' however long, will be brought back here. Long before the end of two days it will have ceased to speak for ever. When a tongue is too long, we cut it. _Ha_! We have a Tooth here which can bite it short. Your 'tongue' shall be bitten on the point of The Tooth, Jandosi. _Ha_!"

Which being rendered out of the vernacular of "dark" talking, dear to the South African native, into plain English, meant that in the chief's opinion Gerard would a.s.suredly be recaptured, and in that event would be adjudged to the hideous fate of the wretch whose body he had found impaled on the summit of The Tooth.

"I think not, Ingonyama. I think my 'tongue' will speak at Undini in words that will move the Lion of the Zulu to wrath. It may be that it will speak of another Lion, who sits beneath the white shield as a king, who within the territory of the great king levies war upon and treats as enemies the friends of the Lion of the Zulu. Yet it is not too late.

You have but to give the word, now this night, that I and mine may depart unmolested, and I can draw back my 'tongue' before it reaches as far as Undini, for I am a peaceable trader, and have no wish to mix myself up in anybody's quarrels."

A deep-chested gasp of wonder escaped his listeners.

"You are a bold man, Jandosi," exclaimed the chief.

"My life has its value, but the life of the chief of the Igazipuza has a far greater one. And this I hold in my hand."

Another astonished gasp escaped the hearers. This statement was only too true. Here, in the heart of the Igazipuza kraal--his ferocious warriors going through their appalling war-dance, with the aspect of fiends let loose, but a few paces distant--Ingonyama in his heart of hearts quailed before this solitary white man dictating terms. Again had a policy of boldness succeeded.

"Return to your waggons, Jandosi," said the chief at length. "I would think this matter over. You shall know my answer in the morning."

Most men would have pressed for a reply there and then, but John Dawes was nothing if not judicious. He thoroughly understood the policy of providing a broad bridge for a fleeing foe. His object was gained, viz.

to secure himself at the moment of the popular outburst, and he had nearly succeeded.

"Now are the counsels of good sense about to triumph," he replied.

"Take till the morning to consider, even then may my 'tongue' be recalled. And now, send one of these _indunas_ to go with me to the waggons and to remain the night, for your people are turbulent and rude at times, Ingonyama, and I would avoid trouble with them."

The chief thought a moment, then uttered a word or two. One of the councillors stood up.

"Good," said Dawes. "Fare thee well, O wearer of the lion's skin.

Between the eyes was the life let out--may that never be the lot of its wearer, O chief of the Igazipuza."

He knew that Ingonyama was for the time being cowed, and that it was inc.u.mbent upon him to return to his waggons before the reaction should set in. Yet as he rode at a foot-pace out of the kraal, with the _induna_ walking beside him, as he pa.s.sed behind the ranks of excited barbarians almost within touching distance, he honestly expected every moment to be his last. A word from the chief, a cry, a signal, and that armed ma.s.s would fall upon him in a moment and hack him into a thousand pieces. Still, for some unaccountable reason, the "word" remained unspoken, the signal was not given. It might be that Ingonyama had further and more fell designs; it might be that he was acting in good faith, anyhow Dawes reached his waggons unmolested.

But he had ample reason to congratulate himself in securing the presence of the _induna_--or hostage as the latter really was--for by-and-by, as the warriors discovered the escape of Gerard, they came surging around the waggons in a wild, clamourous, threatening crowd. Even then, in the presence of one of the most trusted councillors of the chief, a ma.s.sacre seemed imminent, but eventually they drew off.

Throughout that night as Dawes lay, feigning sleep but never more fully awake in his life, he was wondering how his young companion had fared.

So far, the latter must have effected his escape, inasmuch as he had not been brought back. Whether he would ultimately succeed depended largely on the vigour and persistency wherewith the Igazipuza should prosecute the pursuit.

But that he himself was the right man to remain behind, John Dawes was now more than ever convinced. Where would Gerard have been, for instance, under the critical circ.u.mstances of that night? The only thing to do now was to await with what patience he might the result of his comrade's enterprise.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

HOW GERARD FARED.

Gerard, up to his chin in water, concealed by the sweeping boughs, stood back within his hiding-place hardly daring to breathe.

Then it was that his quickness of foresight in swimming rather than wading, in swimming beneath the surface rather than in the ordinary way, stood him in good stead, for the first would have troubled the water, while the second would have sent a line of bubbles floating down the sluggish current, revealing the method of his escape to his pursuers.

Now they were puzzled.

By the greatest good luck the manner and place of his entering the river had been perfect for its purpose. He had got upon the tree trunk in such wise as to leave no spoor. Even in letting himself down into the water by the branches, he had managed so as to avoid breaking off a shower of twigs and fresh leaves, or even bark, to float down and indicate the way of his disappearance. The spoor seemed to come abruptly to an end--as if the fugitive had been whisked up to the skies.

The Zulus were puzzled.