'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War Page 12

  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  "AH, LOVE, BUT A DAY!"

  Pondering over what the old Kafir had said, Eustace busied himself overtwo or three odd jobs. Then, returning to the storeroom, he filled up alarge measure of mealies and went to the house.

  "I'm going down to the ostrich camp, Eanswyth. Do you feel inclined tostroll that far, or are you too tired?"

  "Yes and no. I think it will do me good."

  Flinging on a wide straw hat she joined him in the doorway. The ostrichcamp was only a couple of hundred yards from the house, and at sight ofthem the great birds came shambling down to the fence, the truculentmale having laid aside his aggressive ferocity for the occasion, as hecondescended, with sullen and lordly air, to allow himself to be fed,though even then the quarrelsome disposition of the creature would findvent every now and again in a savage hiss, accompanied by a sudden andtreacherous kick aimed at his timid consort whenever the latter venturedwithin the very outskirts of the mealies thrown down. But no sooner hadthe last grain disappeared than the worst instincts of the aggressivebully were all to the fore again, and the huge biped, rearing himself upto his full height, his jetty coat and snowy wing-feathers making abrave show, challenged his benefactors forthwith, rolling his fiery eyesas though longing to behold them in front of him with no protectingfence between.

  "Of all the ungracious, not to say ungrateful, scoundrels disfiguringGod's earth, I believe a cock ostrich is the very worst," remarkedEustace. "He is, if possible, worse in that line than the Britishloafer, for even the latter won't always open his Billingsgate upon youuntil he has fairly assimilated the gin with which your ill-judged dole`to save him from starving' has warmed his gullet. But this brute wouldwillingly kick you into smithereens, while you were in the very act offeeding him."

  Eanswyth laughed.

  "What strange ideas you have got, Eustace. Now I wonder to how manypeople any such notion as that would have occurred."

  "Have I? I am often told so, so I suppose I must have. But the grandmajority of people never think themselves, consequently when they happenupon anybody who does they gaze upon him with unmitigated astonishmentas a strange and startling product of some unknown state of existence."

  "Thank you," retorted Eanswyth with a laugh. "That's a little hard onme. As I made the remark, of course I am included in the grand majoritywhich doesn't think."

  "I have a very great mind to treat that observation with the silence itdeserves. It is a ridiculous observation. Isn't it?"

  "Perhaps it is," she acquiesced softly, in a tone that was half a sigh,not so much on account of the actual burden of the conversation, as aninvoluntary outburst of the dangerous, because too tender, undercurrentof her thoughts. And of those two walking there side by side in theradiant sunshine--outwardly so tranquilly, so peacefully, inwardly soblissfully--it was hard to say which was the most fully alive to theperil of the situation. Each was conscious of the mass of molten firesraging within the thin eggshell crust; each was rigidly on guard; theone with the feminine instinct of self-preservation superadded to thesense of rectitude of a strong character; the other striving to relyupon the necessity of caution and patience enjoined by a far-seeing andhabitually self-contained nature. So far, both forces were evenlymatched--so far both could play into each other's hands, for mutual aid,mutual support against each other. Had there been aught ofselfishness--of the mere unholy desire of possession--in this man'slove, things would have been otherwise. His cool brain and consummatejudgment would have given him immeasurably the advantage--in fact, thekey of the whole situation. But it was not so. As we have said, thatlove was chivalrously pure--even noble--would have been rather elevatingbut for the circumstance that its indulgence meant the discounting ofanother man's life.

  Thus they walked, side by side, in the soft and sensuous sunshine. Ashimmer of heat rose from the ground. Far away over the rolling plainsa few cattle and horses, dotted here and there grazing, constituted theonly sign of life, and the range of wooded hills against the sky lineloomed purple and misty in the golden summer haze. If ever a landseemed to enjoy the blessings of peace assuredly it was this fair landhere spread out around them.

  They had reached another of the ostrich camps, wherein were domiciledsome eight or ten pairs of eighteen-month-old birds, which not havingyet learned the extent of their power, were as tame and docile as thefour-year-old male was savage and combative. Eustace had scattered thecontents of his colander among them, and now the two were leaning overthe gate, listlessly watching the birds feed.

  "Talking of people never thinking," continued Eustace, "I don't so muchwonder at that. They haven't time, I suppose, and so lose the faculty.They have enough to do to steer ahead in their own narrow little groves.But what does astonish me is that if you state an obvious fact--soobvious as to amount to a platitude--it seems to burst upon them as akind of wild surprise, as a kind of practical joke on wheels, ready tostart away down-hill and drag them with it to utter crash unless theyedge away from it as far as possible. You see them turn and stare ateach other, and open an amazed and gaping mouth into which you mightinsert a pumpkin without them being in the least aware of it."

  "As for instance?" queried Eanswyth, with a smile.

  "Well--as for instance. I wonder what the effect would be upon anordinary dozen of sane people were I suddenly to propound the perfectlyobvious truism that life is full of surprises. I don't wonder, atleast, for I ought to know by this time. They would start by scoutingthe idea; ten to one they would deny the premise, and retort that lifewas just what we chose to make it; which is a fallacy, in that itassumes that any one atom in the human scheme is absolutelyindependent--firstly, of the rest of the crowd; secondly, ofcircumstances--in fact, is competent to boss the former and direct thelatter. Which, in the words of the immortal Euclid, is absurd."

  "Yet if any man is thus competent, it is yourself, Eustace."

  "No," he said, shaking his head meditatively. "You are mistaken. I amcertainly not independent of the action of anyone who may elect to do mea good or an ill turn. He, she, or it, has me at a disadvantage allround, for I possess the gift of foresight in a degree so limited as tobe practically _nil_. As for circumstances--so far from pretending todirect them I am the mere creature of them. So are we all."

  "What has started you upon this train of thought?" she asked suddenly.

  "Several things. But I'll give you an instance of what I was sayingjust now. This morning I was surprised and surrounded by a gang ofKafirs, all armed to the teeth. Nearly all of them were on the veryverge of shying their assegais bang through me, and if Ncanduku--youknow him--Nteya's brother--hadn't appeared on the scene just in the verynick of time, I should have been a dead man. As it was, we sat down,had an _indaba_ and a friendly smoke, and parted on the best of terms.Now, wasn't I helplessly, abjectly, the creature of circumstances--firstin being molested at all--second in Ncanduku's lucky arrival?"

  "Eustace! And you never told me this!"

  "I told Tom--just as he was starting--and he laughed. He didn't seem tothink much of it. To tell the truth, neither did I. Why--what's thematter, Eanswyth?"

  Her face was deathly white. Her eyes, wide open, were dilated withhorror; then they filled with tears. The next moment she was sobbingwildly--locked in his close embrace.

  "Eanswyth, darling--my darling. What is it? Do not give way so! Thereis nothing to be alarmed about now--nothing."

  His tones had sunk to a murmur of thrilling tenderness. He wasshowering kisses upon her lips, her brow, her eyes--upon stray tressesof soft hair which escaped beneath her hat. What had become of theirattitude of guarded self-control now? Broken down, swept away at onestroke as the swollen mountain stream sweeps away the frail barricade oftimber and stones which thought to dam its course--broken down beforethe passionate outburst of a strong nature awakened to the knowledge ofitself--startled into life by the magic touch, by the full force andfury of a consciousness of real love.


  "You are right," she said at last. "We must go away from here. Icannot bear that you should be exposed to such frightful peril. OEustace! Why did we ever meet!"

  Why, indeed! he thought. And the fierce, wild thrill of exultationwhich fan through him at the consciousness that her love was his--thatfor good or for ill she belonged to him--belonged to him absolutely--wasdashed by the thought: How was it going to end? His clear-sighted,disciplined nature could not altogether get rid of that consideration.But clear-sighted, disciplined as it was, he could not forego that whichconstituted the whole joy and sweetness of living. "Sufficient for theday" must be his motto. Let the morrow take care of itself.

  "Why did we ever meet?" he echoed. "Ah, does not that preciselyexemplify what I was saying just now? Life is full of surprises.Surprise Number 1, when I first found _you_ here at all. Number 2, whenI awoke to the fact that you were stealing away my very self. And Isoon did awake to that consciousness."

  "You did?"

  "I did. And I have been battling hard against it--against myself--against you--and your insidiously enthralling influence ever since."

  His tone had become indescribably sweet and winning. If the power ofthe man invariably made itself felt by all with whom he was brought intocontact in the affairs of everyday life, how much more was it manifestednow as he poured the revelation of his long pent-up love--the love of astrong, self-contained nature which had broken bounds at last--into theears of this woman whom he had subjugated--yes, subjugated, utterly,completely.

  And what of her?

  It was as though all heaven had opened before her eyes. She stood theretightly clasped in that embrace, drinking in the entrancing tendernessof those tones--hungrily devouring the straight glance of those magneticeyes, glowing into hers. She had yielded--utterly, completely, for shewas not one to do things by halves. Ah, the rapture of it!

  But every medal has its obverse side. Like the stab of a sword it camehome to Eanswyth. This wonderful, enthralling, beautiful love which hadthrown a mystic glamour as of a radiant Paradise upon her life, had comejust a trifle too late.

  "O Eustace," she cried, tearing herself away from him, and yet keepinghis hands clenched tightly in hers as though she would hold him at arm'slength but could not. "O Eustace! my darling! How is it going to end?How?"

  The very thought which had passed unspoken through his own mind.

  "Dearest, think only of the present. For the future--who knows! Did wenot agree just now--life is full of surprises?"

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  "_Au_!"

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  Both started. Eanswyth could not repress a little scream, while evenEustace realised that he was taken at a disadvantage, as he turned toconfront the owner of the deep bass voice which had fired off the aboveejaculation.

  It proceeded from a tall, athletic Kafir, who, barely ten yards off,stood calmly surveying the pair. His grim and massive countenance waswreathed into an amused smile. His nearly naked body was anointed withthe usual red ochre, and round the upper part of his left arm he wore asplendid ivory ring. He carried a heavy knob-kerrie and severalassegais, one of which he was twisting about in easy, listless fashionin his right hand.

  At sight of this extremely unwelcome, not to say formidable, apparition,Eustace's hand instinctively and with a quick movement sought the backof his hip--a movement which a Western man would thoroughly haveunderstood. But he withdrew it--empty. For his eye, familiar withevery change of the native countenance, noted that the expression ofthis man's face was good-humoured rather than aggressive. And withal itseemed partly familiar to him.

  "Who are you--and what do you want?" he said shortly. Then as hisglance fell upon a bandage wrapped round the barbarian's shoulder: "Ah.I know you--Hlangani."

  "Keep your `little gun' in your pocket, Ixeshane," said the Kafir,speaking in a tone of good-humoured banter. "I am not the man to beshot at twice. Besides, I am not _your_ enemy. If I were, I could havekilled you many times over already, before you saw me; could have killedyou both, you and the _Inkosikazi_."

  This was self-evident. Eustace, recognising it, felt rather small. Heto be taken thus at a disadvantage, he, who had constituted himselfEanswyth's special protector against this very man! Yes. He feltdecidedly small, but he was not going to show it.

  "You speak the truth, Hlangani," he answered calmly. "You are not myenemy. No man of the race of Xosa is. But why do you come here? Thereis bad blood between you and the owner of this place. Surely the landis wide enough for both. Why should your pathways cross?"

  "Ha! _You_ say truly, Ixeshane. There _is_ blood between me and theman of whom you speak. Blood--the blood of a chief of the House ofGcaleka. Ha!"

  The eyes of the savage glared, and his countenance underwent atransformation almost magical in its suddenness. The smiling,good-humoured expression gave way to one of deadly hate, of a ruthlessferocity that was almost appalling to contemplate. So effective was itupon Eustace that carelessly, and as if by accident, he interposed hisbody between Eanswyth and the speaker, and though he made no movement,his every sense was on the alert. He was ready to draw his revolverwith lightning-like rapidity at the first aggressive indication. But nosuch indication was manifested.

  "No. You have no enemies among our people--neither you nor the_Inkosikazi_"--went on Hlangani as his countenance resumed its normalcalm. "You have always been friends to us. Why are _you_ not livinghere together as our friends and neighbours--you two, without the poisonof our deadly enemy to cause ill-blood between us and you--you alonetogether? I would speak with you apart, Ixeshane."

  Now, Eanswyth, though living side by side with the natives, was, likemost colonial people, but poorly versed in the Xosa tongue. She knew asmattering of it, just sufficient for kitchen purposes, and that wasall; consequently, but for a word here and there, the above dialogue wasunintelligible to her. But it was otherwise with her companion. Hisfamiliarity with the language was all but complete, and not only withthe language, but with all its tricks. He knew that the other was"talking dark," and his quick perception readily grasped the meaningwhich was intended to be conveyed. With the lurid thoughts indulged inthat morning as regarded his cousin still fresh in his mind, it couldhardly have been otherwise.

  He hated the man: he loved the man's wife. "How is it going to end?"had been his unuttered cry just now. "How is it going to end!" she hadre-echoed. Well, here was a short and easy solution ready to hand. Aflush of blood surged to his face, and his heart beat fiercely under theterrible temptation thus thrown in his way. Yet so fleeting was it asscarcely to constitute a temptation at all. Now that it was put nakedlyto him he could not do this thing. He could not consent to a murder--acold-blooded, treacherous murder.

  "I cannot talk with you apart, Hlangani," he answered. "I cannot leavethe _Inkosikazi_ standing here alone even for a few minutes."

  The piercing glance of the shrewd savage had been scrutinising hisface--had been reading it like a book. Upon him the terrible strugglewithin had not been lost.

  "Consider, Ixeshane," he pursued. "What is the gift of a few dozencows, of _two hundred cows_, when compared with the happiness of a man'slifetime? Nothing. _Is it to be? Say the word. Is it to be_?"

  The barbarian's fiery eyes were fixed upon his with deep and terriblemeaning. To Eustace it seemed as if the blasting glare of the Archfiend himself shone forth from their cruel depths.

  "It is _not_ to be. The `word' is No! Unmistakably and distinctly No.You understand, Hlangani?"

  "_Au_! As you will, Ixeshane," replied the Kafir, with an expressiveshrug of his shoulders. "See. You wear a `charm'," referring to acurious coin which Eustace wore hanging from his watch-chain. "If youchange your mind send over the `charm' to me at Nteya's kraal thisnight--it shall be returned. But after to-night it may be too late.Farewell."

&nbs
p; And flinging his blanket over his shoulder the savage turned and strodeaway into the _veldt_--Eustace purposely omitting to offer him a littletobacco, lest this ordinary token of good will should be construed intoa sort of earnest of the dark and terrible bargain which Hlangani hadproposed to him--by mere hints it is true--but still had none the lesssurely proposed.