CHAPTER SIX.
THE POLICE.
Sergeant Meyrick and First Class Trooper Francis, of the Natal Police,were riding at a foot's pace along the rough and sandy waggon trackwhich skirts the Lumisana forest, and they were proceeding northward.
Both men were excellent samples of that efficient corps: young,athletic, hard as nails. Neither was of colonial birth, but had beensome years in the force, and by now thoroughly knew their way about.To-day they were doing a patrol, for which purpose they had started fromtheir isolated station the previous afternoon and had camped in theveldt towards midnight. A thick mist, which had come down during thesmall hours, blotting out everything, had delayed their morning start.Now it had rolled back, revealing great bushy Slopes, and rocks shininggrey and red in the moisture, which moisture the sun was doing his bestto parch up.
The two men looked thoroughly smart and serviceable in theirkhaki-coloured uniforms and helmets, each with a regulation revolverslung round him in a holster, but no rifle. Their mounts were wiry,hard-bitten nags of medium height, and in good condition.
"I'm still puzzling over that shot we heard," Meyrick was saying. "Why,it seemed to come from bang in the thick of the bush; but who the deucewould be letting off guns right there at that time of night. No niggerwould go in there then for a bribe. It's too much _tagati_. They funkit like the devil."
"_Tagati_! I should think so," laughed Francis. "I still don't believeit was a shot at all. I've a theory it was a sort of meteoriteexploding. Seemed to come from up in the air too."
"Sound travels the devil's own distance at night. What if it was beyondthe forest belt? There are kraals out that way."
The other was unconvinced.
"Sound does travel, as you say," he rejoined. "But for that very reasonno blooming nigger would lash off a gun in the middle of the night togive away that there was such a thing in existence among the kraals. Anassegai or knobkerrie would do the trick just as well, and make no noiseabout it. No, I stick to my meteorite theory."
"Right-oh! It's going to be damned hot," loosening his uniform jacket."Let's push on or we shan't get to old Halse's by dinner-time, and hedoes you thundering well when you get to his shebang. Whatever they maysay about old Ben, he's the most hospitable chap you'd strike in alifetime."
"Isn't he a retired gun-runner--if he _has_ retired, that is?" saidFrancis, who was new to that part of the country. "At least so the yarngoes."
"The said yarn is very likely true. There are `no witnesses present,'so I don't mind recording my private belief that it is. But there'sthis to be said--that when he did anything in that line it was only whenthe niggers were fighting each other, and in that case he renderedhumanity a service by helping to keep their numbers down. I don'tbelieve he'd trade them a single gas-pipe if they were going for us.I've a better opinion of old Ben than that."
"Don't know. I haven't been up here so long as you; but I've heard itsaid, down country, that gun-running gets into the blood. `Once agun-runner, always a gun-runner.' What-oh! Suppose Dinuzulu were tostart any tricks, wouldn't our friend Ben see his way to making hislittle bit then?"
"I don't believe he would; and what's more to the point, I don't see howhe could. But I say--hang gun-running. Don't you get smashed upon hisdaughter. She's a record of a fine girl."
"So I've heard from you chaps until I'm sick. You all seem smashed onher."
"By Jove! She can ride and shoot with any of us," went on Meyrick,rather enthusiastically, which caused his comrade to guffaw.
"I don't freeze on to `male' women," he said.
"You just wait until you see her," was the rejoinder. "Not much `male'about her."
"What a chap you are on the other sex, Meyrick. What's the good of afellow in the force, with no chance of promotion, bothering about allthat. Much better make ourselves jolly as we are."
"Good old cynic, Frank," said the other. "Wait till you see VernaHalse, and I'll bet you get smashed. Nice name `Verna,' isn't it?"
"Don't know it's anything out of the ordinary. But cynic or not, herewe are, a brace of superfluous and utterly impecunious sons of twoworthy country parsons, bunked out here to fish for ourselves. You'llbe made a Sub-Inspector soon, you've got it in you. I shan't, and Ihaven't. So I'm not going to bother about `skirt.'"
They had reached the spot where the tongue of forest points off onto theroad edge and there ends. The ground was more open here.
"Hot as blazes!" commented Francis, swabbing his forehead. "What'sthis? _Au! Gahle--gahle_!"
The latter as three native women, squatted in the grass by the roadside,stood up to give the salute, the suddenness whereof caused the horses toshy. In the grass beside them lay several bundles such as native womenoften carry when passing from place to place, only these were unusuallylarge.
The two police troopers fired off a humorous expostulation--they hadboth qualified in their knowledge of the Zulu for extra linguistic pay--and passed on their way. The track grew steeper and steeper, and thesun hotter and yet more hot. They would soon be at Ben Halse's store,with the prospect of an excellent dinner and a welcome rest before them.And behind them, in a contrary direction, laughing to themselves,travelled the three women they had just passed, bending under the burdenof the loads poised upon their heads--the said loads containing each agoodly quarter of koodoo meat, of the meat of the lordly koodoo bull,the possession of which would have entailed upon them, and upon allconcerned, if detected, the direst of pains and penalties. Yet therewas nothing suspicious-looking about those bundles, nothing to make anyreasonable being under the sun think it worthwhile investigating theircontents.
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"I wonder what sort of a man this Mr Denham is, father?" said Verna, asshe stood, in the middle of the morning, watching the cleaning andpreparation for preserving the great head, which was being effected by anative under the critical supervision of his master.
"Quite all right," was the answer. "He pays down on the nail, orrather, by return mail; never haggles or votes the prices too long.It's all I can do to resist the temptation to put them up."
"Well, then, go on resisting it, dear. I'm sure it'll pay in the longrun," said the girl decisively.
"Yes, I've always had an instinct that way myself. Denham givesthundering good prices as it is, and, I tell you, we've made a prettygood thing out of him."
"But I wonder what he's like personally," went on Verna. "I wish youhadn't lost that photo he sent you when I was away."
"Yes, it's a pity, but for the life of me I can't think what the devilbecame of it. He was a good-looking chap, though, and I should think bythe look of the portrait, a fine, well-built chap too. Well, we shallprobably never meet. It's certain I shall never go to England again,and he's not likely to turn up here."
"I suppose not."
"Well, long live our trade together, anyhow. He'd give anything, by theway, for a good specimen of the _indhlondhlo_ [Note 1], but they'vebecome so jolly scarce, which is just as well. Anyhow, that's a beastthat isn't affected by these cursed silly game laws. But it's a sort ofjoker you don't get a chance of killing except with a charge ofbuckshot, and that spoils the skin."
"Well, then, it's better left alone. I've always heard they are themost fiendish brutes to tackle. It isn't worth throwing away one's lifefor the sake of a few pounds more or less."
"Few pounds more or less!" echoed Ben Halse. "Why where would I--wherewould _we_--have been if I had always run on that notion? Little girl,it's for you that I want to screw out every penny I can, no matter how Ido it. For _you_."
"Then knock off doing it, dear, especially in some directions. Thatwon't bring me any good, to put it on that ground. Now that deal withUndhlawafa is off, dead off? Isn't it?"
The last rather anxiously.
"Well, I don't know--yes, I suppose it is," somewhat undecidedly.
The girl shook her head.
>
"Of course it is," she returned. "It's not to be thought of for amoment. We are not in dire need, remember, though even then such athing would be out of the question. Yes, quite off. My instinct hasbeen right before, remember."
"So it has. No, I shan't touch this affair. They'll have to getsomebody else."
"_Nkose! O' Nongqai_!" [The police.]
Both started. The interruption came from the trader's other boy, whohad slipped into the yard in a state of some consternation.
"Where, Panjani?" said his master.
"Down yonder, _Nkose_," pointing to the lower country. In a moment bothwere outside and in front of the dwelling.
Far below, on the plain, which looked humpy from this altitude, twomounted figures were approaching. There was no need to get out afield-glass; the native eyesight, as well as their own, was keen enough.But the two arrivals could not arrive for the best part of an hour.Ben Halse went calmly back to the yard, and further directed thepreparation of the great head, with its record horns. Then, rubbing alot of salt and pepper into it, he covered it with a waggon sail.Verna, watching this proceeding, was struck with a sudden thought.
"Father, what about the koodoo sirloin I've got on the roast?" she said.
"Keep it there till it's done. They won't know it from beef. Howlingjoke, eh?"
"Rather," she laughed. "They'll all unconsciously aid and abet us inbreaking the laws of Cetywayo's country."
The police horses were toiling up the slope, then standing with heavingflanks in front of the store. Their riders were not sorry to dismount.
"Well, Mr Halse, how goes it?" cried Meyrick, shaking hands. "MissHalse--why, you are looking better than ever since those two dances wehad together at Ezulwini."
"Oh, thanks," laughed Verna. "But that's a poor compliment. You oughtnot to have allowed the possibility that I could look better than ever."
"Sharp as ever, anyhow," retorted Meyrick. And his comrade broke into aguffaw.
"This is Francis," he introduced, "commonly known in the force as Frank.It's shorter, you see, and means the same thing. Now we all know eachother."
"Not got your step yet, sergeant?" said Ben Halse. "Thought you'd havebeen Sub-Inspector next time I met you."
"Don't chaff, Mr Halse. It's a sore point with me. The powers that beare so dashed ungrateful."
"Well, anyway, come inside and have a refresher after your ride. I'llsend my boy to off-saddle for you. Scoff will be ready directly."
"We kept it back on purpose when we saw you toiling up there beyondLumisana," said Verna. "If the sirloin is overdone it's due to that."
"Sirloin! By Jove! that's royal!" cried Meyrick. Whereat Verna laughedmischievously.
Assuredly Ben Halse's _menage_ kept up its reputation for hospitality,thought these two guardians of law and order, as they sat there doingfull justice to the result of the midnight poaching expedition.
"Why, this beef is A1," pronounced Meyrick, beginning upon a secondhelping. "You couldn't get anything like it even in Old England."
"I'm sure you couldn't," assented their host, with a touch of dryness,while Verna's eyes danced. "The bottle's at your right elbow--helpyourself. What's the latest from down country, by the way?"
"All sorts of yarns. They are brewing _up_ for a row in Natal. There'sa sweep called Babatyana inclined to make trouble. Now, Mr Halse, youought to be an authority. If there's a bust-up there do you think it'llspread up here?"
"Sure to. But, to what extent is another thing."
"How does feeling run in these parts? Sapazani, you know, doesn't carrya particularly good reputation."
"Depends on how it's handled. By the way, if I were you I wouldn't namenames," for the boy had just come into the room to change the plates,and the swift look of interest that had flashed across his face as hecaught the name of his chief was not lost on the experienced up-countryman. "This boy here belongs to his tribe, and he'll connect his chief'sname with the police uniform. See?"
Meyrick felt small, and said so.
"Did he hear? What an idiot I am. Well, Mr Halse, you were chaffingme about the Sub-Inspectorship, but it's obvious I'm not ripe for ityet."
Ben Halse passed it off with a tactful and consolatory remark, and theytalked about other things. Not until afterwards did it occur to Meyrickthat his host had given him no information whatever on the subject ofthe loyalty of Sapazani.
"He's got some cheek, that same party whom we won't name," said Francis."He flatly refused to salute his magistrate with the `_Bayete_' when hewent to see him--hailed him as `_Inkose_' instead; said the `_Bayete_'was the salute for kings."
"He's about right," said Ben Halse. "There's a precious deal too muchof that `_Bayete_' joke going along. Every waggon-builder's apprenticeseems to expect it. What did Downes say? I'd like to have been there."
"He nearly died of rage. Then he asked Sapazani, rather sneeringly,which king he would give the `_Bayete_' to, and the answer was, `Any_king_,' which was rather smart. Downes talked of arresting him fortreating his court with insolence, but there were only three of ourchaps in the place, and Sapazani had a following with him big enough tohave captured the whole show, even with kerries, so he chucked thatplan."
"Well, he was wise there," said Ben Halse. "There's no law in existencehere or anywhere else I know of, that compels a native to address hismagistrate as `Your Majesty,' which is what giving him the salute royalamounts to. And this particular chief--to name no names--is quiteknowing enough to get hold of a lawyer to stick up for him. There'smore than one that would be glad to, and could do it too."
The fact was that the speaker knew all about this incident as well asdid the narrator--and a good deal more connected with it which thelatter didn't, but this he kept to himself.
"Sapazani is a great friend of ours," said Verna; "but I should thinkhe'd be quite capable of making himself disagreeable if he was rubbedthe wrong way."
Then they talked on, about other things and people, and the afternoonwore on. Suddenly Meyrick was seen to start as if he had been shot, andto grope wildly and hurriedly in his pockets.
"I'm most awfully sorry, Mr Halse, for being such a forgetful ass," hesaid; "but I forgot to give you this"--producing a letter. "Two of ourchaps came back from Ezulwini and brought it out."
"That's all right. I dare say it isn't a matter of life and death," wasthe characteristic answer. But the speaker's face was not whollyguiltless of a look of astonishment as he saw the envelope; and this wasevoked not so much by the sight, of the handwriting as by the fact thatthe missive had never been through the post. While his guests weresaddling up he quickly mastered the contents, and his astonishment didnot decrease.
"How should you like a run down to Ezulwini, Verna?" he said, after thepolice had gone.
"To Ezulwini?"
"Yes; perhaps to Durban."
"I'd like it a lot. Makes a change. I'm quite jolly here, but still, achange bucks one up a bit."
Her father smiled to himself. That letter had given him an idea whichtickled him, for he had a very comical side.
"But what's on?" she said. "Are we clearing out? Has it become timeto?"
"No, no. There's no row on--as yet. That'll come, sooner or later, allin good time. Only business."
"Oh! What kind?"
Verna was so completely in her father's confidence in every departmentof the same that there was no inquisitiveness underlying the query.There was a joke in the background of this, however, which he was notgoing to let her into. It would keep.
"What kind?" he repeated. "Oh, general. I say, though, Meyrick andFrancis are nice chaps, aren't they? but, good Lord! their faces wouldhave been a study if they could have seen through that heap of waggonsail in the yard that was staring them in the eye through the window allthe time they were scoffing the other bit of the owner of that head,which was browsing away in Lumisana this time yesterday. Eh? Beef!Roast beef of Old England! That was killingly
funny. What?"
"Yes, it was," rejoined Verna, who was gazing after the receding figuresof the police, growing smaller and smaller on the plain below. "Still,the mistake was excusable. There's not much difference between either.When are we going to Ezulwini, dear?"
"H'm. In a day or two."
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Note 1. A snake of the _mamba_ species, which grows to a considerablesize, very scarce, and with a proportionately bad reputation.
Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion Page 6