Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

  THE MATING.

  "Yes, I have to be a bit careful," Ben Halse was saying. "You see, I'vegot up a bit of a name--well, all we old-time traders were tarred withthe same brush. I could name more than one who made his pile on thesame terms; I could also name a big firm or two in Natal who has made abigger pile on the same terms. However, we're not running this loadinto the country, but out of it."

  The speaker and Alaric Denham were helping to load up a waggon, part ofthe contents of which were consigned for shipment at Durban. Oneimportant item of the load was a case containing the record koodoo head.There were other specimens, too, which Denham had collected.

  The latter had been Ben Halse's guest about three weeks now, and as hehad only just got up his outfit, and luggage in general, from the coastport it looked as though he were destined to prolong his sojourn forsome time. And, indeed, from his point of view, there was everyinducement for doing so. He and the trader had taken greatly to eachother, and once when he had mooted the idea of leaving the other wouldnot hear of it.

  "We seem all jolly together," Ben Halse had said, in his bluff,straightforward way. "You take us as you find us, and you seem to me aman who would fit in anywhere. Further, you have got into a queer partof the world such as you may never get into again. You are collectingnew things every day. So why hurry? You are welcome as long as you canstick it."

  To which Denham had replied that he had enjoyed every day of his stay ashe had seldom if ever enjoyed anything; and he would give himself plentyof time to wear out his welcome. And he and his host had sealed thecompact then and there over a glass of grog.

  Now he said--

  "I shall be relieved when this load is fairly on board. That head, youknow, is a sort of a nightmare. All the rest put together isn't in withit."

  "Oh, you can trust Charlie Newnes," said the trader. "He's a straight,reliable man as ever was--a darn sight more so than lots of men who arequite white--and stands well with those who _baas_ this show now. I wasshooting what I chose here in these parts when these new officials--damnthem!--were being licked at school, before ever they dreamed of cominghere to tell an old up-country man like me that he mustn't shoot thisand mustn't shoot that. I don't know what the devil we're all comingto. Oh, here is Charlie."

  A tall, well-set-up young fellow appeared on the scene. He was the sonof a well-known old-time trader by a Zulu wife, but in him the Europeanhad predominated to such an extent that outside Africa he might havepassed for a white man. There was, however, a certain lithe supplenessabout his walk and movements that would have given him away in a momentto any South African not of the town born and bred.

  "Well, Charlie," said Ben Halse; "it's all loaded up now. Mr Denhamsays he won't close his eyes until he knows his cargo's shipped, so besure and impress upon Garland that he must send word at once."

  "That'll be all right, Mr Halse; Mr Denham can rest easy," answeredthe young fellow. "If there's a reliable agent in Durban for anythingunder the sun, from shipping an elephant to the Zoo to sending ayoungster to sea properly equipped, Mr Garland's the man."

  "Well, then, you can trek. Come in and have a drop of square facefirst."

  "Well, Mr Halse, I don't often take anything," said the young fellowdeprecatorily. "But--once in a way."

  The refection was duly consumed, and the waggon rolled its way down thehill.

  "Your stuff'll be all right, Mr Denham, never fear," said CharlieNewnes, as they shook hands. Then he started to overtake the waggon.

  "That's a fine young fellow," said Denham, looking after the outfit. "Ishould think he and his like would count for something in this country,in the long run."

  "Oh, I don't know. They are rather between the devil and the deep sea,"answered the trader. "There are quite a lot of them about--decent,respectable chaps for the most part. Neither one thing nor the other.I knew his father well in the old days. Bob Newnes ran the wholenorth-western part of this country before and after the war of '79. Hemade his pile a good bit."

  "Father, you _are_ giving yourself away," laughed Verna.

  "Oh, I've done that already before. Well, what does it matter? Anyfool can see I'm no chicken."

  "You're a jolly well-preserved one, Halse," said Denham. "No one wouldhave given you credit for such far-back experiences if you hadn't toldthem yourself."

  "They used to call me a gun-runner, you know, Denham--do still, in fact.We were all gunrunners in those days, as I was telling you just now.But what the devil did it matter? No one was damaged by any gunshotduring the war of '79, except in a couple of stray instances, for theaverage Zulu is such a wretched shot he couldn't hit a cathedral. Sincethen--well, when they fought each other, there was no harm in supplyingthem with as many as they wanted."

  Verna was beginning to feel uncomfortable, and some mysterious telepathymade Denham aware of the fact.

  "Of course," he answered cheerily. "Don't we build war-ships on theClyde and Tyne and at Belfast for foreign Powers to use againstourselves if they want to? It seems to me there's precious littledifference, if any at all."

  "Bless your soul, no. Well, I raft up some pretty good loads for theUsutu in the mid-eighties, when they were at each other's throats here.The Usutu paid the best, you see. The other side had got their ownwhite men--John Dunn and others. We weren't over-ridden withofficialdom in those days. Those were times, but they've all gone.Verna, if you're still on to that picnic, suppose you give usbreakfast."

  "That picnic" was a ride which she and Denham had planned down into theforest country in search of specimens. They had taken several of thekind already.

  Yes, several. And Denham, thrown into the daily society of this girl,had come to the conclusion that such society was necessary to him,daily, and thenceforward. His life since he had been here had been anidyll, he told himself, a sheer idyll. Why should it not be a permanentone? Strangely enough, with all his advantages and experiences Denhamwas singularly modest. Why should he expect Verna to leave her fatherat the call of a mere stranger? Why should he expect her father to beready to part with her? They were so happy together, so wrapt up ineach other; and he, after all, what was he but a mere stranger? Andthen there was something darker at the back of that, but it he put awayfrom his thoughts. Still, it would obtrude.

  Sometimes the thought of his wealth and position would come to his aid.But immediately it would strike him that such counted for nothing here.If ever there was an independently-minded man on earth it was his host,and as for Verna, why, she was clean outside all his experience of theother sex. Then again would come in that strange and subtle sympathy,which would well up at times during their close and daily companionship.

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  The atmosphere of the Lumisana forest was not so stuffy andfever-breathing now. A touch of approaching winter was upon it, andfrom the blue, unclouded sky the sun no longer shot down rays of torridheat. So as the pair threaded the narrow path, closely shut in overheadby towering tree-tops, the horses showed no sign of weariness ordistress.

  "I don't much like bringing them in here," Verna said. "There's tsetseat times. But it has turned so much cooler that I think it's safe."

  They were riding in single file, she leading. It was a wonderful road.Tall trees shutting out the light; ropes of monkey trailers dangling tothe ground, thick undergrowth and long grass making that peculiartranslucent hue such as you may see by taking a deep dive into atropical sea. Not many bird voices, but here and there one, for birdsprefer the outskirts of inhabited lands, and the remotest depths offorest are not to their taste.

  "Shall we lunch here, Verna?" said Denham, as they came out upon a smallopen space where a runnel of water flowed into a pool. In the course oftheir close companionship he had got into the way of calling her by hername. It had come naturally to both of them somehow. She, for herpart, had, of late, never called him anything at all.<
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  "Yes; it's as good a place as any, and, I'll tell you now, it's wherethe record head was shot. I never would bring you here before, youknow, but--here we are."

  And she flashed a merry laugh at him.

  "By Jove! that's capital. Now we'll `reconstitute' the wholeperformance, as the French police do in a murder case. Now, show me.Where was the koodoo, and where were you?"

  "First of all, about the horses," she said; "we must keep them hitchedup, we can't knee-halter them because it's swampy the other side of the_vlei_, and once they got into that, why--good-night. We should have towalk home and break the news as gently as we could to father."

  They loosened the girths only, having first allowed the animals todrink; and then Verna, in as few words as possible, showed him thepositions of the whole affair.

  "It's nothing to brag about," she ended up. "I'll own to one bit ofconceit about it, though. I told father that it seemed a thousandpities my name shouldn't figure as having shot the record koodoo head ofthe world, even if it was only in a private collection. He said that itcould--however, we've settled all that now."

  "Well, he was wrong, for, on second thoughts, it can't."

  "What's the joke?" she said, fairly mystified.

  "None at all, it's dead serious," speaking quickly. "I shan't label itas shot by Verna Halse, but by Verna Denham. Those are my conditions.How do they strike you--darling?"

  Her face flushed, then grew pale, then flushed again. In the world ofadoring love in her eyes he read his answer. She put forth both hands,which he seized.

  "I don't know," she said slowly. "Yes, but, I do know. Yet, listen,Alaric"--it was the first time she had ever used his name, and it cameout sweetly--"are you sure you mean what you say? For instance,supposing you were to go away for six months, would you come back andsay it all the same?"

  "I've no intention of trying any such idiotic experiment, and,fortunately, such an utterly unnecessary one. Well?"

  "How long have we known each other?" she answered. "Barely a month,certainly not more. We have been thrown together all day and every day.Are you sure that such propinquity has not something to do with it?"

  He laughed good-humouredly, tolerantly.

  "That's all very well," she went on, "but this is serious. What can yousee in me, you who have seen so much and so many, the not even _half_educated daughter of an up-country trader, whose bringing up has givenlittle opportunity for the ordinary refinements, let alone for acquiringaccomplishments? And with all these deficiencies I should very soonpall upon you."

  "I shall have to laugh directly," he answered. "Half educated? Why,you've been arguing against yourself with a grip of your points whichwould be worthy of the smartest K.C., and with a terseness which wouldnot earn him his fee. What can I see in you?"--and his tone became veryvehement and very serious. "I can see in you attributes which, takentogether, should render any woman irresistible--a rare physicalattractiveness, an unbounded power of sympathy, and a staunchness thatwould stand by a man through the worst that might befall him. Is thatsufficient, or must I go on adding to it?"

  Verna's eyes had filled as he was speaking. The words, the tone, seemedto burn through her whole being; but there was a smile upon her lips--very soft, very sweet.

  "And can you see--really see all that in _me_, Alaric?"

  "All that, and a great deal more," he answered vehemently, drawing herto him. "So now give me your first kiss."

  "Darling, I will."

  The sun streamed hotter and hotter into the open space, frogs croakedamong the reeds surrounding the burnished surface of the pool; a lemur,swinging and bounding on high among the twisted tree-trunks, stareddown, blinking his beady eyes and cocking his pointed snout; a largesnake lay coiled in the grass hard by, wondering if safety rested inlying still or beating a retreat; half-a-hundred of the eyes and livesof the forest were witness to the beginning of the mating of these two,witnesses, as they may have been to the darker deeds of blood whichthese grim shades had so lately contained.