“But it is of use,” I insisted hotly. “For nearly twelve moons I, with others, fought the Tembu, the Pondos, and the Griquas, using a similar weapon to this, and I am alive this day.”
“Then,” retorted Lomalindela, with a malicious grin, “if thou art so sure of the effectiveness of the weapon, let me see thee use it in a real fight. Mapela, give ’Mfuni thy spear. And, hark ye, ’Mfuni, if thou canst slay the white man, or even disable him, thou shalt choose twenty head of cattle from mine own herd, and they shall be thine. But if the white man proves to be the victor in the fight, and there is still life in thee when it is over, I swear, by the bones of my royal father, that thou shalt be given to the ants! Thou hearest?”
“I hear, O Great, Great One, Calf of the Black Bull, Elephant whose tread shakes the earth. Bayete!” answered ’Mfuni, lifting on high the haft of the spear from which I had shorn the head.
So I was in for it, with no ghost of a chance of escape; and the very gift—or, rather, one item of it—upon which I had so confidently relied to win me the favour and goodwill of the king had, through that monarch’s capricious and suspicious nature, been the instrument by means of which I had become involved in a duel that must almost inevitably end in a ghastly tragedy. For, after what the king had said to my antagonist, there was no doubt that the fellow would do his utmost to kill me; while I, in pure self-defence, and also for his sake, must do my best to kill him. I fully understood, the meaning of the king’s horrible threat to give the poor fellow to the ants; and, rather than see him condemned to so dreadful a fate, I would slay him with my own hand!
Chapter Eleven.
I fight the Champion of the Mashona Army.
In obedience to the king’s command, Mapela left his place among his fellow indunas, and, stalking across the intervening space, handed his bangwan—a spear with a stout haft about three and a half feet long, to which was attached a head some eighteen inches long by seven and a half inches wide, the two edges of which were almost razor keen—to ’Mfuni. And while he was doing this, and whispering a few hurried words to my prospective antagonist, I divested myself of my jacket, and handing it and my rifle to Piet, who all this while had stood motionless as a statue, said:
“Take these and hold them for me, Piet. And if I should be killed, make your way at once to the place where I have left my horse, shooting any man who may attempt to stop you—the rifle is loaded—and mount and ride for your life to the wagon. And if you are fortunate enough to reach it alive, you, with Jan and ’Ngulubi, had better take all the horses, all the guns, and as much ammunition as you may have time to lay your hands on, and ride for your lives back to the Limpopo, on the other side of which you will be reasonably safe. After which, you must do the best you can for yourselves. And if you should be lucky enough to get back home, find Major Henderson and tell him all that has happened and—how I died.”