Child of Storm - Page 57/192

There was no particular reason why I should be irritated, since time

in those days was of no great account in Zululand, and it did not much

matter to me whether I trekked in the morning or the afternoon. But the

fact was that I could not get over the prophecy of Zikali, "the Little

and Wise," that I was destined to share Saduko's expedition against

Bangu, and, although he had been right about the buffalo and Mameena, I

was determined to prove him wrong in this particular.

If I had left the country, obviously I could not go against Bangu, at

any rate at present. But while I remained in it Saduko might return at

any moment, and then, doubtless, I should find it hard to escape from

the kind of half-promise that I had given to him.

Well, as soon as I reached the kraal I saw that some kind of festivity

was in progress, for an ox had been killed and was being cooked, some of

it in pots and some by roasting; also there were several strange Zulus

present. Within the fence of the kraal, seated in its shadow, I found

Umbezi and some of his headmen, and with them a great, brawny "ringed"

native, who wore a tiger-skin moocha as a mark of rank, and some of

his headmen. Also Mameena was standing near the gate, dressed in her

best beads and holding a gourd of Kafir beer which, evidently, she had

just been handing to the guests.

"Would you have run away without saying good-bye to me, Macumazahn?" she

whispered to me as I came abreast of her. "That is unkind of you, and I

should have wept much. However, it was not so fated."

"I was going to ride up and bid farewell when the oxen were inspanned,"

I answered. "But who is that man?"

"You will find out presently, Macumazahn. Look, my father is beckoning

to us."

So I went on to the circle, and as I advanced Umbezi rose and, taking me

by the hand, led me to the big man, saying: "This is Masapo, chief of the Amansomi, of the Quabe race, who desires

to know you, Macumazahn."

"Very kind of him, I am sure," I replied coolly, as I threw my eye over

Masapo. He was, as I have said, a big man, and of about fifty years

of age, for his hair was tinged with grey. To be frank, I took a great

dislike to him at once, for there was something in his strong, coarse

face, and his air of insolent pride, which repelled me. Then I was

silent, since among the Zulus, when two strangers of more or less equal

rank meet, he who speaks first acknowledges inferiority to the other.

Therefore I stood and contemplated this new suitor of Mameena, waiting

on events.