“This I will look into,” he said. “It is not often we have to settle differences between white people, especially Amangisi (English). But the Great Great One, that Elephant who treads the same path as the Queen, will have order in the land—wherefore are we here,” with a wave of his hand towards his armed warriors; from whom deep-toned utterances of sibongo went up at the naming of the royal titles. “With the matter of the trade, I have nothing to do. But, Iqalaqala, Udolfu says you have stolen his dog, though had it been his lion he had said, I think he would have uttered no lie, for in truth we could hear his roars while yet far away,” added the old induna with a comical laugh all over his fine face. “Now bring forth this wonderful beast, for we would fain see him.”
“Get out the dog, Sewin,” I said. “The chief wants to see him.”
“Yes, but what the devil has all the jaw been about? It’s all jolly fine for you, but I’m not in the fun,” he growled.
“Never mind. I’ll tell you presently. Leave it all to me now. You’ve got to, in fact.”
Falkner climbed into the waggon, and in a moment reappeared with Arlo, still holding him in his improvised leash. At sight of him the warriors in the impi set up a murmur of admiration.
“Loose him,” said Untúswa.
I translated this to Falkner, and he complied. The dog walked up and down, growling and suspicious.
“See now, Udolfu,” said Untúswa, who had been watching the splendid beast with some admiration. “This is your dog. Now call him, and take him away with you.”
“Arno!” called Norbury. “Here, Arno, old chap. Come along home. Good dog.”
But the “good dog” merely looked sideways at him and growled the harder.