The criminal was one of the finest specimens of the race I had ever seen, being tall, exquisitely formed, graceful, and majestic. Silently he knelt before Metilulu, his head bent submissively, awaiting the sentence. From a little distance, but within hearing range, we stood to learn what that would be. It came very speedily: the prisoner had already pleaded guilty, and the verdict was that he should be cast alive to the crocodiles, who on the river banks, not far off, gnashed their terrible jaws, apparently conscious of the prey destined for them.
Scarcely had the sentence been uttered, and the Kaffir had arisen, without a murmur, for it to be put into execution, than Mr Ferguson, suddenly quitting my side, walked, erect and unhesitatingly, up to Metilulu. Guessing his intent, and fearful of the consequences, I, beseeching hot-brained Jack to keep back, hurried after him. On drawing near I found I was correct in my surmise. The young missionary, in earnest, eloquent terms, was pleading the prisoner’s cause, and praying for a commutation of the sentence.
Metilulu looked and listened in silent astonishment; but, as I anxiously marked his features, I fancied they gradually assumed a pleased, friendly expression, quite the reverse of anger at being interfered with. As I came up Mr Ferguson was saying—
“You, Metilulu the great!—you, the recognised mighty Chief of the numerous tribes dwelling in this vast and beautiful land of Caffraria—has not your victory been complete? Has not but a few hours back triumph been given you over those who but lately would have made you captive? Why, then, should one so favoured stain the day of rejoicing by condemning to a horrible death, for a slight offence, one of those warriors to whose bravery, to whose devotion, he partly owes that triumph? Truly you are strong, you are courageous, but one arm alone could not have crushed the tribe of Kabela. You had need of warriors, and you found them, brave, willing, and submissive. Surely, then, noble Metilulu, you will let your hand dispense mercy as well as justice. This is no time to speak of the power of Heaven and the Rewarder of all great deeds, for the ground of your heart has as yet been prepared by no refreshing dews; but all grand souls must recognise the mighty power of mercy, and surely you will forgive this man in honour of the day of victory, if for nothing else.”
Mr Ferguson finishing, earnestly, respectfully waited a reply, when, thinking my turn had come to put in a word for the poor fellow, I hurried forward, and kneeling, according to Kaffir custom, said—
“Noble Metilulu, if my friend’s prayers to save this warrior have not had sufficient weight with you, then let mine be added to his. Let him be spared; extend your hand in mercy towards him. It is the white men who beseech your clemency; for their sakes grant it.”
Metilulu was silent a moment; then replied, “You white men are a strange people, yet I have listened to your words with pleasure; you are soft-hearted, but you are friends to the Kaffir. Umatula,” he added, turning to the warrior, “I reverse your sentence—you may live. These, my friends, have interceded for you; thank them, not me, as it is because of them that I pardon you. Live, and show by future deeds your sorrow for your past crime.”
His dusky face beaming with delight, Umatula bowed low till his forehead touched the ground before Metilulu—afterwards to us—then, starting up, proudly grasped his shield and assagais, exclaiming—
That, to show his gratitude for the Chief’s gracious pardon, no warrior in Metilulu’s regiments should ever outrival him in warlike deeds, while he reckoned his life to belong to the noble-hearted white faces. They had but to ask him for it, and it was theirs to do with it as they would.
This over, Metilulu, dismissing the troops, bade us sit down, he evidently being inclined for a chat. I was no little pleased that it should be so, for during our long talk the previous night it had been arranged that I should try to obtain leave for myself and Thompson to make our way to a white settlement, which Mr Ferguson said he knew was not very far off, and might be easily attained with a native guide. Both Jack and I had earnestly besought the minister to accompany us, but he firmly refused, saying he believed Providence had had a purpose in casting him on that shore, where he had already found that his words had not fallen entirely on stony places; therefore he should be but a poor soldier of heaven, indeed, did he leave so fair and promising a work uncompleted.