On the following evening we once more dined together, and Quatermain, after some pressure, was persuaded to continue his story—for Good’s remark still rankled in his breast.
“At last,” he went on, “a few minutes before sunset, the task was finished. We had laboured at it all day, stopping only once for dinner, for it is no easy matter to hew out five such tusks as those which now lay before me in a white and gleaming line. It was a dinner worth eating, too, I can tell you, for we dined off the heart of the great one-tusked bull, which was so big that the man whom I sent inside the elephant to look for his heart was forced to remove it in two pieces. We cut it into slices and fried it with fat, and I never tasted heart to equal it, for the meat seemed to melt in one’s mouth. By the way, I examined the jaw of the elephant; it never grew but one tusk; the other had not been broken off, nor was it present in a rudimentary form.
“Well, there lay the five beauties, or rather four of them, for Gobo and another man were engaged in sawing the grand one in two. At last with many sighs I ordered them to do this, but not until by practical experiment I had proved that it was impossible to carry it in any other way. One hundred and sixty pounds of solid ivory, or rather more in its green state, is too great a weight for two men to bear for long across a broken country. I sat watching the job and smoking the pipe of contentment, when suddenly the bush opened, and a very handsome and dignified native girl, apparently about twenty years of age, stood before me, carrying a basket of green mealies upon her head.
“Although I was rather surprised to see a native girl in such a wild spot, and, so far as I knew, a long way from any kraal, the matter did not attract my particular notice; I merely called to one of the men, and told him to bargain with the woman for the mealies, and ask her if there were any more to be bought in the neighbourhood. Then I turned my head and continued to superintend the cutting of the tusk. Presently a shadow fell upon me. I looked up, and saw that the girl was standing before me, the basket of mealies still on her head.
“‘Marême, Marême,’ she said, gently clapping her hands together. The word Marême among these Matuku (though she was no Matuku) answers to the Zulu ‘Koos,’ and the clapping of hands is a form of salutation very common among the tribes of the Basutu race.
“‘What is it, girl?’ I asked her in Sisutu. ‘Are those mealies for sale?’
“‘No, great white hunter,’ she answered in Zulu, ‘I bring them as a gift.’
“‘Good,’ I replied; ‘set them down.’
“‘A gift for a gift, white man.’
“‘Ah,’ I grumbled, ‘the old story—nothing for nothing in this wicked world. What do you want—beads?’