CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"LOST!"

Now, as time went by, this white _isanusi_ still continued to dwell in our midst in great contentment, for the King ordered that his treatment should be of the best; and, indeed, it was so. From time to time he and the Gaza would offer sacrifice together, as we had first beheld it. Howbeit, he did not importune us with this new teaching, but busied himself in going in and out among the people, talking to them, and acting as a friend to all--even among the very lowest of the Amaholi and enslaved captives. To these he taught that there would come a time when they should be free--but the way to such freedom lay through the gates of death; and this caused the slaves to shake their heads and jeer. Their lives were hard, and they wanted to be free; but if the land of freedom was only to be reached through the gates of death, why, then they preferred to remain in the land of the Amandebeli. Yet among all was this white _isanusi_ loved, because his words were ever soft and kind; and soon the name by which he became known among the people was that of "Father." There was one thing, too, which he never failed to bring into his teaching--and this was that, although the King was equally subject to the Great Great One who dwelt above the skies, yet the people were none the less bound to obey the "word" of the King and the orders of his _indunas_ and captains. And, this being so, he retained the favour of Umzilikazi, who had set spies to watch him secretly, and report what his teachings really were.

It happened that a few days after his arrival among us the white stranger was with the King, for often would the Great Great One invite him to an _indaba_, that he might listen to wonderful tales of far countries beyond the sea. Yet when the _isanusi_ would tell once more that marvellous tale which he had first told, and begin to set forth its teachings, Umzilikazi would laugh softly to himself, and bring round the talk to other matters. It happened, _Nkose_, that on the day I named, an idea seemed to strike the King.

"See, now, father of the strange _muti_," he said. "Do all the white people believe that great tale?"

We who were watching the stranger's face saw a troubled look come over it, as he answered that nearly all did.

"Do the Amabuna believe it?" went on the King.

"They believe it, Great Great One--but not the whole of it."

"Ha! Not the whole of it! They are a lying and treacherous race, deadly as a swarm of locusts! Say, my father, if they believed the whole of it, they would lie, and steal land, and make slaves no more?"

"That is so, Black Elephant."

The King smiled grimly to himself as he took snuff. We, too, smiled. Here were teachings which would never do for us--for although we of the Zulu race did not lie, yet we took land and slaves, even as the Amabuna did, and made war. Now these were customs we could not by any possibility give up. Then the Great Great One leaned over, and whispered a word to me.

Now the little white child we had taken from among the Amabuna was fast becoming one of ourselves. Yet not; for those with whom she played she would somehow cause to _konza_ to her, even in their games, as though she were born to rule. If they played at building kraals, she it was whose hut was always the largest. If the boys were playing soldiers, it was always before her they came, singing the mimic war-song, and forcing the defeated side to _konza_. She reigned among them as a little queen. Even my two younger wives, who had the care of her, she seemed to rule. They would not, however, allow her to run wild with our children, but, as her clothing wore out, they made her garments of the softest of dressed fawn-skins, ornamented largely with the most valued of beads. And now, as in obedience to the word of the King, I led the little one forth into his presence, and the stranger looked for the first time upon the fair skin and flower-like little face--the heaven-blue eyes, and hair like a stream of sunlight falling down the beaded robe of the child--he made as though he would have leaped from his seat.

"See now, my father," said the King, as the little one put up her hand and cried the _Bayete_, "here is one of thine own colour, though but a tiny child. See now if thy story of the God of Peace is known in any way to her."

Now the white _isanusi_ hardly waited for the word of the King, and the change which came upon him was strange indeed. He sprang to his feet, and advanced to the little one, who stared at him with her great blue eyes, yet did not shrink from him as in fear of a stranger. Then he put his hand over her head, and, looking upward and then down at her, his lips moved.

"_Au_! he is placing a spell upon her," growled one who sat near me.

"It is not a spell that will harm," murmured another in reply. But no more was said, for now the stranger was talking quick and fast in his own language, and the little one might have been his own child, long, long lost; for tears stood in his eyes as he talked, and soon rolled down upon his great beard. _Haul_ It was a strange sight. He wept, this white man who knew not fear: yes, here, in the presence of the King, and of we _izinduna_ and war-captains, he wept, and that at the sight of a little blue-eyed child!

But here was another strange thing. The little one's face wore a blank look. Clearly she did not understand a word of what he was saying. Truly a strange thing! These two white people--the old man and the tiny girl--meeting thus by chance in the midst of our nation, understood not each other's tongue!

"Speak to her with the tongue of the Amabuna, my father," said the King.

But of this language the white _isanusi_ had but scant knowledge, and in the end the only tongue with which these two whites could converse was that of the Amazulu. No, _Nkose_, not as yours was the tongue in which that _isanusi_ spake. It was quicker--far quicker--and accompanied with more movements, like that of ourselves.

"There, my father," said Umzilikazi. "The little one is of thine own colour. Now begin with her, and teach her about this strange God, which seems to me to be teaching more fitted for her than for us black ones."

The white man's face lighted up with joy at this permission, and he poured forth many words of praise for the goodness of the King. And we, too, we echoed the words of _bonga_ with a loud voice. And the little one, she too seemed glad because of those words; and not long after, in the presence of the King, and all who were then at Kwa'zingwenya, the white _isanusi_ performed strange ceremonies over her, of which the principal seemed the sprinkling of water, and declared she was now especially a child of that great God of whom he had spoken. This Umzilikazi was very willing to sanction, for was not the child white-- and a girl? But when it came to teaching warriors a belief that peace was better than war--_Au_! that was a very different matter.

Now I had been kept so busy all this while, attending to the affairs of the King and the nation, that no time had I to visit the mountain of death and her who dwelt in the secret chamber thereof. Yet my mind was ever in flight thither as I beheld its flat top standing out through the haze afar off. Wherefore I resolved, for good or for ill, to journey thither, as though to hunt.

Once well beyond the last outpost of our people I began to run, travelling with a speed worthy the days when I was the King's chief runner. At length I stood beneath the mountain and began to ascend its slopes, and I sang softly to myself a song of gladness and of love as I thought how soon I should be drinking in the strange sweet sorcery of Lalusini's words and looks.

I had nearly gained the summit when a loud and savage growl brought me up motionless in my own footprints, and, taking the great Assegai in my right hand and advancing my small shield forward a little in the left, I peered eagerly in search of the enemy.

Not a moment had I to look. The flaming eyes, the long, yellow shape, the shaggy mane, almost blurred up as they were by the brown of the mountain-side, represented nothing less than a lion--an enormous one, crouching for a spring. There was no turning aside. Face to face we had come, in this narrow gully. Neither could give way. One must advance over the body of the other.

_Whau, Nkose_! This was no light matter; for to kill a full-grown lion, single-handed, with spears only, is a business we never willingly undertake. But this one gave me no choice, for, with a savage snarl, he launched himself into the air.

I know not how I avoided that onslaught; but I was quick in those days, _Nkose_, quick as any wild beast. What I did was to run in upon him, flinging myself _right under_ his spring. Then, as he flew over me, I flashed upright, and, poised on tip-toe, quick as lightning I hurled one of my casting spears. It sang, quivering on its way, striking the mighty beast slantwise in the ribs and sinking deep. With terrible roars and snarls he rolled over and over, snapping at the spear-haft, and biting his own skin in the agony of his pain, and, the more he struggled, the deeper sank the spear. Now I saw what I would do. It would be quicker and far safer, and I did not want to brave over much danger just then. A great mass of loose rock stood poised upon a firmly embedded one immediately above the body of the lion, which, with hideous roars, was writhing and struggling beneath. Running to this, I mustered all my strength for a push. It swayed and tottered. Another mighty effort, the huge stone swung over and went crashing down the slope. The aim was good. With a frightful yell the great beast yielded up his life, and lay with ribs and spine shattered, while the rock tore down the mountain-side in leaps and bounds, splitting into fragments as it rolled.

"_Bayete_!" I cried, in my exultation; for I had done something really great. "Hail, king of the plain and the mountain! A short burial shall first be thine."

Collecting stones, I piled them upon the sinewy frame of the mighty beast to protect it from the vultures; for I desired not to tarry then, so eager was I once more to behold Lalusini. Then, having gained the flat summit of the mountain, I took my way cautiously to the secret entrance of the sorceress's retreat.

And now, as I threaded the dark passage through the earth, I began softly to sing a song of love, which should let Lalusini know that I was coming. But there came back no answering song. _Whau, Nkose_! Warrior as I was, I felt weak then, and my pulses began to beat. I sprang down into the great rock hollow. It was empty.

Then I felt like a man who would willingly die, so strong was the witchery of the spell which this sorceress of Zulu blood had woven around me. I called her by name, first softly, then louder, for I thought she might be doing this to try me, and, even then, might be watching me from somewhere, and laughing to herself at my discomfiture. Still, no answer.

Then a hideous thought took possession of my mind. That great lion I had slain! Had not Lalusini herself made mention of having heard its voice rolling upon the mountain at night? Had she not expressed some fear lest the beast might find its way in through the tunnel? As a man who has gone mad, I sprang to the hole and examined the ground for traces. But there were none--none such as would have been left by a lion forcing his way in, and returning, dragging a heavy body. So the possession of my senses returned, and I fell to making an investigation of the place. Ha! The mystery was a mystery no longer. Lalusini had, indeed, gone, but she had departed of her own free will, for most of the articles necessary to her comfort, such as clothing, cooking utensils, and so forth, had disappeared.

Yes, _Nkose_; my heart was sore within me. Whither had she gone? Was it to return once more to that great, yet distant, people, among whom she had promised to make me great? Wearied with the length of time I had been forced to leave her unvisited--in the light of my hesitation to agree to throw in my lot with hers under such mad circumstances of peril and hazard--had she decided to leave me altogether? It seemed like it. Yet, I would track her--would find her. And then I laughed at myself for a fool, for how knew I, after all this time, which way to turn to seek her? She might be far away by that time.

Sore at heart, I went up into the outer day again, and there upon the summit of the mountain I sought long and hard for footprints. But I sought in vain. There were none. Lalusini might have vanished like a bird into the air.

All that day I searched. There might be other hiding-places upon the mountain, even more secret than the one which was known only to me and to her. But if this was so I know not. I only know that, search as I would, no trace could I find of such.

Then I went down again into the rock hollow to pass the night, thinking she might chance to return. But when I lay down to sleep, sleep would not come, or if it did, only so lightly as to be more wakefulness than sleep; and it seemed that the face of the beautiful sorceress hung over me in my dreams, but when I would start to clasp her, calling her by name, there was nothing, no sound but the howling of beasts, ravening upon the mountain slopes throughout the night. And when the sun rose at last, then mounted higher into the sky, and still Lalusini did not return, I knew then that I had lost her forever, that never would I behold her more.

So, with heart heavy and sore, I dragged myself away from the place, and returning to where I had left the dead lion, cut off the head and forepaws and the tail-tuft of the mighty beast, and, thus laden, took my way back to Kwa'zingwenya, sorrowing exceedingly for the loss of her who had thus bewitched me.

Note. That this travelling priest was of French nationality was somewhat confirmed, for on hearing that language spoken, although unable to recognise any specific word, Untuswa declared that it seemed to bring back to his mind something of the stranger's speech.