“Only this, father,” said Vunawayo, with a grin of ferocious exultation. “Have you not said that they who let the boy slip through them and escape should supply meat for The Tooth? Now, therefore, let us spare them their lives on condition that they find such meat for The Tooth instead of themselves. Thus will they dare and do all to secure Jandosi alive.”
“So be it, then,” said Ingonyama, after a moment’s reflection. “This night shall he be taken.”
Meanwhile the object of these amiable intentions was meditating a bold stroke. Seated at his waggons, carefully thinking out the situation, he decided that once more a bold line might better serve his purpose; in pursuance of which plan he hailed a boy who was passing.
The latter stopped, stared, hesitated; then reassured by a signal from the induna Sonkwana, he drew near wonderingly.
“I have a fancy to see my oxen here,” said John Dawes. “What is your name, boy?”
“Sicalu,” was the rather sullen reply.
“Well, Sicalu, you shall go with my driver, Fulani, and help to bring them in. When you return this little looking-glass shall be yours. But you will carry the ‘word’ of your father, Sonkwana, the induna of the chief, that those who guard the oxen may know I require them.”
The lad stared, as well he might. So, too, did Sonkwana. Indeed, it was hard to say which was the more amazed of the two. As for the trader’s own people, such thorough confidence had they in him, that they were astonished at nothing, in which spirit Fulani no sooner heard the above order than he stood prepared to carry it out.
“Will you not ride out yourself and look at your cattle Jandosi, as you have ever done before?” said the councillor.
“Not so, Sonkwana. This time they shall be brought to me. Give the boy the ‘word,’ induna of the chief.”