I was very busy arranging some of the curiosities that I had collected on my recent rambles, when I was startled by a loud cry of distress. On looking out of the waggon I saw Meriko, my Bamangwato servant, running with all his might through the long grass, and shrieking, in the Sechuana dialect, “They are killing me! they are killing me!” He cleared the bushes like an antelope; in his hurry he had lost both his grass hat and his caama mantle, and had scarcely breath to reach the waggon. Pointing to a number of natives at no great distance from him, with their spears brandished in the air, he gasped out, “Zulus! Matabele! they want to kill me!”
For my part I could not comprehend how it happened that these Matabele should be on Khame’s territory. I began to wonder whether it was possible that war had broken out between the tribes, and I confess that I was not without apprehension that we were going to be attacked. The savages advanced yelling and screeching, and looked like wolves in human form. Unwilling to risk the mischief that might ensue if I fired upon them, I resolved to remain steadily where I was until I had ascertained their real intentions. Meriko’s opinion did not in the least coincide with mine; he could not bring himself to await their approach, but bounding over the pole of the waggon, he scampered off into the bush beyond, but without further outcry, evidently anxious to conceal himself in the long grass. I called out to him that he had more to fear from the lions in the grass than from the Zulus, and that he had better stay in the waggon; so terrified, however, was he at the prospect of falling into the hands of the Matabele, that he turned a deaf ear to my words, and rushed out of sight.
The savage band flocked round the waggon, still flourishing their kiris. Excepting the two ringleaders they proved to be not true Zulus, but belonging to various plundered tribes, having been stolen away as boys by Moselikatze, and brought up as Zulu warriors. They had small leather aprons with fringes, or occasionally a gourd-shell or piece of basket-work on their bodies, otherwise they were quite naked; only some of them wore balloon-shaped head-dresses made of ostrich feathers or other plumage. Their expression was exceedingly wild. The fierce rolling eye was a witness that they belonged to a warlike race, expecting that their commands should be obeyed; and probably there was not one amongst them who would have hesitated to perpetrate a murder if he considered that anything was to be gained by it.
One of the leaders swung himself on to the pole of the waggon, and speaking in broken Dutch gave me to understand that they were “Lo Bengulas,” and that it was their wont to slaughter every captive they made, except he were bought off by a ransom; they were now ready to put their rule into force upon my servants; and as for my dog they should shoot him then and there, unless I paid them down at once a handsome sum to save him.
I put as bold a face as I could upon the matter. I told them that I was not going to be frightened into making them any payment whatever, but that if they would promise to go quietly away from the waggon, I would make them a present all round. I hoped by this device to anticipate their notorious thievish propensities; but although Pit and Theunissen were on the watch, they could not prevent one of the fellows stealing a knife that was lying close to my side, but I caught sight of him just in time, and insisted upon his giving it up again.
After a brief consultation, the two captains drew their followers apart, and made them acquainted with my determination; they all grinned cunningly, and hailed the proposal with shouts of satisfaction. Having had the whole body collected right in front of the waggon, where I could keep my eye upon them, I called the leaders forward and handed to each of them a bowl of gunpowder and about two pounds of lead. One of them first pointed to my pocket-handkerchief, and then ran his finger round his own loins. “Lapiana!” he said, indicating the purpose to which it could be applied. Accordingly I brought out a few yards of calico, and tore it into strips, which were immediately used for girdles, except that a few of the men twisted the stuff round their heads. They requested me to give the captains an extra piece or two; to this I willingly consented, and they all expressed themselves perfectly satisfied. Upon this I turned my back upon the clamorous troop, and retreated calmly to my own people. Soon afterwards they all began slowly to depart, waving their presents over their heads. We were greatly relieved. The hour that had passed since Meriko had come and announced their approach had unquestionably been an anxious time. A few of them had bartered salt with Theunissen for tobacco.
When Meriko could be induced to quit his hiding-place, he informed us that we had now almost reached the bank of the principal feeder of the Soa, called the Nata, where salt may be most readily procured, and whither the Matabele are sent by their rulers every year to collect it. This was the ostensible employment of the gang that had just taken their departure. The Bamangwato king was quite aware of the marauding habits of these parties, but did nothing to control them, although they perpetually disarm any Bamangwatos they may meet, and delight in breaking the legs of the Masarwas.[2]
HUNTING THE ZULU HARTEBEEST.
To the great satisfaction of poor Meriko we decided to push on immediately to the Nata river. As we proceeded, the game became more and more plentiful. The herds of springbocks were much larger than I should have expected to see so far north, and we noticed a surprising number of gnus, hartebeests, zebras, and ostriches. Although Meriko had in some measure recovered his nervousness, and walked on contentedly with Niger at his side, he kept from time to time jumping up from the ground to the waggon, to look all round and satisfy himself that no Matabele gang was in sight. While mounted up for this purpose he cried out that he could see a herd of “sesephi” (Zulu hartebeests). He described them as about 600 yards to our right. I could not see them myself, but both Pit and Theunissen affirmed that it was a good-sized herd. We all agreed that it would be best to allow the waggon to advance some 300 yards further, and I could then alight, and with my gun all ready for a shot, make my way to a hardekool-tree about 200 yards from the road, and from thence take my aim. Nothing could be simpler than the plan, and I was soon making my way through the long grass by myself on foot.