“Thought you’d worn through that ‘nigger’ string of yours, Falkner,” I said. “Don’t play on it for the benefit of Majendwa, that’s all.”
I may have seen as fine, but I never saw a finer specimen of a Zulu than Majendwa. Tall and straight, and for his age marvellously free from that corpulence which seems to come upon nearly all Zulus of rank or birth in middle life, every movement of his limbs showing great muscular strength the man’s frame was a model. His countenance even from a European standpoint was singularly handsome, the broad, lofty forehead and clear eyes conveying the idea of intellectuality and high breeding, in short he looked what he was, an aristocrat of his race. His greeting was dignified yet cordial.
“I see you, Iqalaqala,” he said, having waited for us to come up—“and am glad. It is long since you brought trade our way.”
I answered that my wandering days were over for the present, yet I could not altogether sit still, so had come straight up to the Abaqulusi to trade with them first. Then following their inquiring glance at my companion, I told them he was a neighbour of mine who had been an officer in the English army, causing them to look at him with redoubled interest.
“What’s it all about, Glanton?” struck in Falkner who was always impatient when I was talking and bound to cut in at the wrong time. “Who’s the other chap?”
“Muntisi, the chief’s second son. He’s got seven, but this and the eldest are the only two who wear the ring.”
“Well, I like their looks. Here, have some ’bacca, old chap,” pulling out his pouch.
Majendwa, who of course didn’t understand the familiarity of the address, received the tobacco, in his dignified way, with a slight smile and a glance of furtive curiosity at Falkner’s parti-coloured countenance, which had by no means shed all traces of his bout of fisticuffs with Dolf Norbury. Then he said:
“Come within, Iqalaqala. I will send men to show your people where to outspan.”
We walked on with them, leading our horses, for we had dismounted to greet them. As we drew near, the kraal, which had seemed deserted, sprang into life. Heads appeared above the thorn fence, watching the approach of the waggons in the distance, and from where the red topknots of women were grouped, a buzz and chatter of expectation went up.