Child of Storm - Page 159/192

After this I think that some of the Usutu came up, for it seemed to me

that I heard Saduko say: "Touch not Macumazahn or his servant. They are my prisoners. He who

harms them dies, with all his House."

So they put me, fainting, on my horse, and Scowl they carried away upon

a shield.

When I came to I found myself in a little cave, or rather beneath some

overhanging rocks, at the side of a kopje, and with me Scowl, who had

recovered from his fit, but seemed in a very bewildered condition.

Indeed, neither then nor afterwards did he remember anything of the

death of Umbelazi, nor did I ever tell him that tale. Like many others,

he thought that the Prince had been drowned in trying to swim the

Tugela.

"Are they going to kill us?" I asked of him, since, from the triumphant

shouting without, I knew that we must be in the midst of the victorious

Usutu.

"I don't know, Baas," he answered. "I hope not; after we have gone

through so much it would be a pity. Better to have died at the beginning

of the battle."

I nodded my head in assent, and just at that moment a Zulu, who had very

evidently been fighting, entered the place carrying a dish of toasted

lumps of beef and a gourd of water.

"Cetewayo sends you these, Macumazahn," he said, "and is sorry that

there is no milk or beer. When you have eaten a guard waits without to

escort you to him." And he went.

"Well," I said to Scowl, "if they were going to kill us, they would

scarcely take the trouble to feed us first. So let us keep up our hearts

and eat."

"Who knows?" answered poor Scowl, as he crammed a lump of beef into

his big mouth. "Still, it is better to die on a full than on an empty

stomach."

So we ate and drank, and, as we were suffering more from exhaustion than

from our hurts, which were not really serious, our strength came back

to us. As we finished the last lump of meat, which, although it had been

only half cooked upon the point of an assegai, tasted very good, the

Zulu put his head into the mouth of the shelter and asked if we were

ready. I nodded, and, supporting each other, Scowl and I limped from the

place. Outside were about fifty soldiers, who greeted us with a shout

that, although it was mixed with laughter at our pitiable appearance,

struck me as not altogether unfriendly. Amongst these men was my horse,

which stood with its head hanging down, looking very depressed. I was

helped on to its back, and, Scowl clinging to the stirrup leather, we

were led a distance of about a quarter of a mile to Cetewayo.