“We have need of many things which thou hast in thy huts, Shiminya,” he said, “for we are going to leave thee, and return to Sikumbutana”—this with design. “I, for instance, have no hat, and my clothes are torn. I need further thy rifle, or rather the rifle of Government, and all the cartridges thou hast. Rise, therefore, and show us where such may be found. But first I will bind thy hands.”
The countenance of the sorcerer, which had brightened up, fell at this. Nidia, at a word from John Ames, having searched in the huts for the necessary thongs, the binding was effected in the most masterly manner. Then, forcing the prisoner into the hut where Nidia had made her startling discovery, John Ames set to work to ransack the place. Luckily, it was a very store-house of European goods, which Shiminya, being of an avaricious turn, had exacted from his clients and dupes and kept hoarded up here. Most of the articles of wear, though of coarse and shoddy make, were new; and, best of all, there were four packets of Martini-Henry cartridges stowed away in the thatch; for here was one who knew where to look for that kind of contraband goods.
“I am now going to kill thee, Shiminya,” said John Ames, when he had selected, not all he wanted, but all he would be able to carry.
The wizard looked scared, for well he knew how richly he deserved death at the hand of every white man in the land, and this one he believed to be quite capable of carrying out his threat. But the cunning rogue shrewdly played upon his best stop, and kept reiterating all he had done for the inkosikazi when she had appealed to him for protection, frightened and exhausted and alone.
“Yet it is necessary that I should slay thee, Shiminya, for although thou hast done this for the inkosikazi, I know that thou lovest me not; and if I spare thee, how long will it be before thou art running in front of Madúla’s people, and crying, ‘This way hath Jonemi gone’?”
And turning to Nidia, he asked her to go outside, saying that he would join her in a moment. Then, being alone with his captive, he took up a heavy knobkerrie.
“Now, Shiminya. Thy death is near,” he said, raising the club.
But the wizard was another instance to the contrary of the cut-and-dried idea that cruelty and cowardice are bound to go hand in hand. No further appeal for mercy did he make. Not a word did he utter. With a last look of hate glowing in his snaky eyes, he put forth his skull, as though to meet the blow. But the other lowered his weapon.
“I give thee thy life, Shiminya,” he said. “Should the time ever come, remember that thy life lay within my hand and I gave it thee.”
The wizard murmured assent. Of a truth he felt that the jaws of Death had been opened very wide before him, and then closed.