CHAPTER FIVE.
THE TEMPTATION.
Tall tree-trunks, straight standing or curved; a tangle of creepers andundergrowth; long rank grass, and a general effluvium of decay andstuffiness unpleasantly suggestive of fever--such were the generalfeatures of the Lumisana forest.
Its depths were gloomy and desolate to the last degree, and seldompenetrated. The natives carefully avoided the place, and if they didenter it would never do so except in groups. It was the haunt ofdangerous snakes, of fierce and aggressive specimens of the mamba tribe,and of abnormal size, they held; and these there was no avoiding amongthe long grass and tangled undergrowth. Further, it was the especialhaunt of the _Inswelaboya_--a species of hairless monster, half ghost,half human, given to strangling its victims on sight; and this was amore weighty consideration even than the fear of venomous reptiles.
This feeling on the part of the natives had its advantages, for theforest constituted part of one of the large tracts utilised as gamepreserves. Here koodoo were plentiful, with a sprinkling of thesplendid sable antelope. Buffalo, too, haunted its gloomy depths, wherethe reed-fringed pools in the clearing afforded them a wallowing-place--and there was even a specimen or two of the rare white rhino. Allthese, of course, were rigidly protected, so far as it was possible topolice so wild and difficult a tract of country at all. But the largerkind of game flourished. The natives, as we have said, shunned thisgloomy wilderness, nor were the means of destruction at their disposaladequate. White men seldom came here, for permits were rarely given,and, failing such, the very act of getting the spoils away would haveled to certain detection. But with Ben Halse the case was altogetherdifferent. He had exceptional advantages. He was resident on the spot,and knew every corner of those remote fastnesses. Then, too, he washand in glove with the powerful chief of the district, and not a man ofthat chief's following would have dreamed of giving him away.
Now he was making his way along a narrow game path. Verna walkedimmediately behind him--they had left their horses at a kraal on thehigh ground, for this stuffy, forest-covered valley bottom was notaltogether devoid of the tsetse fly. Behind her again walkedUndhlawafa, followed by several Zulus in single file.
"I'm going to have first shot, dear," whispered Verna, over her father'sshoulder.
"Don't know. What if you miss?" he returned. "Those horns'll be wortha devil of a lot."
"But I shan't miss. No, you must let me have first shot. I so seldomget a look in at anything big."
She carried a light, sporting .303, its magazine loaded with Dum-dumcartridges. She knew how to use it, too, and hand and nerve were steadyas rock. She was arrayed in just the costume for an expedition of thekind, a plain blouse and short bicycle skirt, and looked exceedinglyready and sportsmanlike; and after some couple of hours' walk overanything but easy ground, her step was as elastic as though she had justsallied forth.
Night had fallen, and though a glorious moon was sailing in the clearsky, so thick were the tall tree-tops that, meeting overhead, theyplunged the pathway into gloom, networked here and there by thepenetrating moonbeams. But here was none of the stillness of night.Large owls hooted loud and spectrally, and the nursery-like squall ofthe "bush-baby"--a species of lemur--was thrown forth, and echoed andanswered from near and far. Now and then a sudden scuffle and rumblingretreat told that a buck had been disturbed and was making himselfhurriedly scarce; or, not so harmless, perchance, a stealthy rustle inthe grass would bring the party to a standstill.
"That's the worst of this walking in the dark," said Ben Halse. "Younever know when some infernal black mamba may jump up and hit you bangin the face. Then--good-night! Or you may tread on his tail while he'sgetting out of the way. Which amounts to the same thing."
There was always the risk of this, of course, but risks have to betaken. Verna, for her part, was keenly enjoying this clandestinenight-poaching expedition. There was that about it which appealedpowerfully to her, and every fibre of her strong, healthy being thrilledwith the sheer joy of life. Then, suddenly, the moonlight burst inthrough the trees in front. They had come to the edge of an open space.
Undhlawafa whispered caution. Then he ordered his followers to remainwhere they were--if anything to retire a little way back. He did notwant to set up any more scent than was necessary. Then, cautiously,they advanced to the edge and peered forth.
In front lay an open space. It was swampy ground, caused by the trickleof a small stream which here expanded into reed-fringed pools. Thesewere barely a hundred yards from where the stalkers lay concealed. Atpresent there was no sign of life in the clearing, unless it were theoccasional croak of a frog. Then something moved, and a small shapecame stealing across the open to the water. It lapped a little, but wasevidently uneasy, for it kept lifting its head and listening. Then,having hurriedly completed its drink, the jackal made for dark cover aslast as its legs could carry it.
"Wonder if it could have winded us," whispered Ben Halse. "Yet we areon the right side for wind, too."
"I'm to have first shot, remember," returned Verna. Her father nodded.
A large owl floated across the open, hooting loudly and dismally. Therewas a hot stuffiness in the still, yellow, moonlit air, which wasdepressing. Then two hyenas came out to drink at the pool. They, atany rate, were under no misgivings, for, having drunk, they sat on theirhaunches and bayed the moon long and hideously. This performanceconcluded they began chasing each other, to the accompaniment of muchsnarling, till they, too, disappeared within the depths of the fartherforest.
Now came a period of tense waiting, during which nothing stirred.Conversation, even in the faintest of whispers, was of course out of thequestion. Then a sound, unmistakable to these, bred among the sounds ofthe wilderness, was borne to their ears, the tramp of approaching hoofs.
"More than one," whispered Ben Halse.
He was right. Advancing from the upper end of the open space were threelarge animals. Nearer--and lo! standing forth in the moonlight thesplendid koodoo bull paced slowly down to the water. He was leading theway--half as large again as the two cows. A thrill of irrepressibleeagerness ran through the watchers, the younger of them especially.
At the edge of the water the noble animal paused a moment beforelowering his head to drink. His immense spiral horns reached far overhis broad back, and the white stripes upon his dark hide were visible inthe clear moonlight. Then Verna's rifle spoke.
The effect, crashing through the stillness of the night, was almostappalling. The echoes roared through the silent forest from point topoint, and the rush and thunder of flying hoofs seemed to shake theground as the two cows sped for cover at lightning speed. But thebull--the splendid "record" bull--he made one mighty, powerful plungeinto the air, then dropped over onto his side, and after one harshhalf-bellow, half-groan, lay still.
"Well done, little girl, well done!" cried Ben Halse enthusiastically."I never saw a cleaner shot. He's got it bang through the heart, by theway he fell."
"That's where I aimed, dear," she answered, flushed with the feeling ofthe thorough sportsman, that life could hardly contain better momentsthan this.
"_Inkosikazi_!" ejaculated old Undhlawafa admiringly. "_Mame_! Awonder!"
They went over to the fallen animal, which lay motionless and stonedead. It was even as her father had said; Verna's bullet had drilledclean through the heart of the mighty beast--a neat and sportsmanlikeshot as ever was delivered.
"_That_ pair of horns'll stand us in for close on a hundred pounds,"pronounced Ben Halse. "Why, they must be the world's record! I neversaw any to come up to them in all my experience."
"So the world's record has been accounted for by only a girl," saidVerna merrily. "But you were a darling to let me have first shot."
"Oh, as to that I was afraid you'd miss--women are so nervy andexcitable."
"Especially this woman!"
"Well, it doesn't much matter who fired the shot, the point is we've gotthe
horns, and they'll be worth quite what I said, if not more."
"Father, I'm ashamed of you. That's a nice sportsmanlike way oftalking, isn't it?"
The other Zulus had now crowded up, and were firing off manyejaculations of amazement and admiration. It is possible that some ofthem remembered the occasion on which the bullet hole had been drilledin the wall of Ben Halse's store. The butchery part of it devolved uponthem. But this was a form of amusement they thoroughly enjoyed, and,moreover, they would have a big meat feast. The larger kind of buck,with the exception, perhaps, of the eland, is apt to be coarse andtasteless, and except for the more delicate part of this one, such asthe saddle, Ben Halse wanted none. He, however, waited to see that thehead, with its invaluable pair of horns, was properly taken care of. Sothey went to work merrily, and in an incredibly short space of time thecarcase was duly quartered, and a big fire was lighted and a big roaststarted, by way of a preliminary, for there was no chance ofinterruption. There was nothing on earth to draw a patrol of that finecorps the Natal Police into the depths of the Lumisana forest at thatungodly hour of the night, short of very strong and very definite"information received." Ben Halse and Verna, after their hours oftramping and the tension of waiting, took their share of the roast withkeen and healthy appetites.
"Oh, I love this!" said the latter, cutting into a strip of the hissinggrill with a pocket-knife and a sharpened stick for a fork. "Why, it'sworth all the sitting-down meals in the world!"
"Isn't it?" rejoined her father. "Here, Undhlawafa. Here is somethingto send it down with." And he produced a large flask of "square face"gin, and poured a goodly measure into the cup. The old Zulu's face litup.
"_Nkose_! It is good, _impela_!" and he drained it at two gulps.
"The worst of it is," went on Verna, "the record pair of koodoo hornscan't be ticketed with my name. Because this is a poach, you know."
"Oh, but it can--and shall. Denham has undertaken to indemnify me inany risks I run in procuring him specimens. This'll stand us in for ahundred pounds at least. Why, the horns are a record! And I shallstick out that he placards on them a notice, that they were shot byyou--shot fair and clean, by God! as I've never seen anything bettershot."
"All right, dear," answered the girl. "Then some fine day the recordleaks out that we have been shooting koodoo on a Government gamepreserve without a permit. What then?"
"What then? Why, I'm fined--say a hundred pounds. Denham makes thatgood, and--makes good the other hundred for the horns. But the chancesare a thousand to one against the news ever reaching the proper quarterover here, for all purposes of prosecution, I mean. You see, it doesn'tspecify _where_ the thing was shot."
"No; there's something in that," said Verna. "But I'd like to figure,if only in a rich man's private museum, as having shot the record koodooin the world." And she laughed merrily.
The Zulus were busy cutting up the great antelope, which task theyaccomplished in a surprisingly short space of time, chattering andlaughing among themselves as they devoured various portions of thetid-bits raw. In process of the talk Undhlawafa contrived to saysomething to Ben Halse--something "dark." That worthy nodded.
"Stay here, Verna. I shall be back directly," he said.
She looked at him for a moment full in the moonlight. Some instinct wasupon her. Once before, the same instinct had moved her to intervene ina certain transaction of his, to intervene right at the critical moment,with the result of saving him from a disastrous fate as the outcome ofwhat that transaction would have involved. The thing had hung in thebalance; but her instinct had rung true, her intervention had availed.He had been saved. Now that same instinct was upon her again. Shecould not for the life of her have defined its meaning, still--there itwas.
"I'll be back directly," he went on. Then he and Undhlawafa disappearedwithin the black shades of the forest.
Verna, left there, set herself out to await her father's return withthat tranquil philosophy which was the result of her wild life and noparticular upbringing. She watched the butchery proceedings in theclear, full moonlight, but with no interest. They were ratherdisgusting, but she had seen enough of that sort of detail for it tohave little or no effect on her. She gazed forth upon the swampy,miasmatic open space and the sombre forest line bounding it, and gave adirection or two to the natives as to the head and horns of the trophy.Then she began to wonder when her father was coming back.
The latter and Undhlawafa had reached a spot in the forest where thetrees were thin at the top, letting through a broad network ofmoonlight. Bending down the induna drew forth from some place ofconcealment a bag made of raw hide. It was heavy, and its contentsclinked.
"Count these, U' Ben," he said, untying the _reimpje_ that fastened it.
The trader's eyes kindled and his pulses quickened somewhat as he pickedup a handful out of the mass of golden sovereigns, letting it fall backthrough his fingers in a stream which flashed in the moonlight. This hedid again and again--and the rich metallic clink of the falling coinswas music to his ears. All this could be his for the taking--his, nowand here, and in return an easy and not particularly risky service.Undhlawafa, the while, was reading his face.
"Is it not enough?" he said, in a tone that implied that more mightconceivably be forthcoming in the event of a negative reply. "Yet--count the pieces."
But Ben Halse did not do this. He continued to trickle the coinsthrough his fingers, without replying. Why should he let go thisopportunity of making a rich haul? If he did not take it somebody elsewould, and the result would be the same. Besides, no Zulu, or any othernative for that matter, could hit a house with firearms unless he werelocked up inside it, and then his bullet would probably miss it and gothrough the window. He was far more dangerous with his own nativeassegai--in fact, the possession of firearms rendered him less efficientwith even that. These were the salves he applied to his conscience ashe looked upon the mass of sovereigns shining in the moonlight, andplayed lovingly with them, and longed to possess them.
But the other side of the argument would obtrude itself. The merepossession of arms breeds the desire to use them--and this holds goodespecially of savages. He thought of the women and children scatteredabout at different centres throughout the land, and realised, as he hadoften done before, how any carefully planned, concealed and concertedoutbreak would simply spell massacre for the lot in a single night. Hethought of Verna--his Verna--and the land contained other people's"Vernas." No, he could not do it. He knew, of course, that he couldsend her out of the country at any time if things became too sultry--hewould receive ample warning. But that consideration struck home. Hecould not do it.
"Where are you, father? Oh, there."
The sweet, clear, fluty voice came upon him like an omen, and then thegirl stepped to his side where he sat. One quick glance at the bag ofgold, another at her father's face, and instinct supplied the rest. Sheknew his particular weakness, but she said nothing then.
"We were talking over a certain deal, dear, Undhlawafa and I. The termsare good."
"Well, I've interrupted you. But to-morrow will do as well, won't it?"she answered carelessly. "Let's go home."
The induna sat tranquilly taking snuff. He, for his part, felt prettysure that his offer would be closed with--if not to-night, why, then,to-morrow. Verna, for her part, felt rather more sure that it wouldnot. But Ben Halse got up to leave, and the bag containing two hundredgolden sovereigns still remained in the possession of Undhlawafa.
Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion Page 5