“And what if he refuses?”
“Then he, too, will soon be dead.”
For some minutes Eustace kept silence. The Kafir’s remark had added fuel to the fire which was burning within his heart. It seemed a direct answer to lurid unspoken thoughts which had been surging through his mind at the time of his surprise by the at first hostile party.
“Umlilwane is an obstinate man,” he said at length. “What if he laughs at the warning?”
“When a man sits inside his house and laughs while his house is burning, what happens to him, Ixeshane?”
“He stands a fair chance of being burnt too. But listen, Ncanduku. You have no quarrel against the Inkosikazi. (Literally Chieftainess. In this instance ‘lady.’) Surely not a man of the House of Gaika would harm her!”
The chief shook his head with a troubled expression.
“Let her go, too!” he said emphatically. “Let her go, too, and that as soon as possible. When the red wave of war is rolling over the land, there is no place where the delicate feet of white women may stand dry. We are friends, Ixeshane. For your sake, and for that of the Inkosikazi, tell Umlilwane to gather together his cattle and to go.”
“We are friends, indeed, Ncanduku. But how long can we be so? If war breaks out between our people how can I sit still? I cannot. I must fight—must fight for my own race, and in defence of our property. How, then, can we remain friends?”
“In war-time every man must do his duty,” answered the Gaika. “He must obey the word of his chief and fight for his race and colour.”