“Well, I tell your master that I do not believe you. It is a lie you speak to him; you ran away from Cetywayo because you did not like to fight and be killed as the king’s ox, as a brave man should.”
The Zulu coloured up under his dusky skin, and again glanced at his wounds.
“Ow-w!” he said.
“Bah! there is no need for you to look at those scratches; they were left by women’s nails. You are nothing but a woman. Silence! who told you to speak? If you are not a woman, show it. There is an armed Basutu among those rocks. He watches us. Your master cannot eat and sleep in peace when he is watched. Take that big stabbing assegai you are so fond of showing, and kill him, or die a coward! He must make no sound, remember.”
Mazooku turned towards Ernest for confirmation of the order. A Zulu always likes to take his orders straight from his own chief. Mr. Alston noticed it, and added:
“I am the Inkoosi’s mouth, and speak his words.”
Mazooku saluted again, and turning, went to the waggon to fetch his assegai.
“Tread softly, or you will wake him; and he will run from so great a man,” Mr. Alston called after him sarcastically.
“I go among the rocks to seek ‘mouti’” (medicine), the Zulu answered with a smile.
“We are in a serious mess, my boy,” said Mr. Alston to Ernest, “and it is a toss-up if we get out of it. I taunted that fellow so that there may be no mistake about the spy. He must be killed, and Mazooku would rather die himself than not kill him now.”