Ishmael struck him across the mouth, exclaiming.
“Be silent, you accursed wizard, or you shall
howl louder than your ghost-dog.”
“I meant no harm,” answered the man humbly,
but with a curious gleam in his eye. “What
are your commands, Chief?”
“That we watch here. I think that the daughter
of the Shouter, she who is called Inkosazana-y-Zoola,
is coming, and she may need help. Have you brought
thirty men with you as I bade you through my messengers?”
“Aye, Ibubesi, they are all hidden in the bush.
I go to summon them, though I think that the mighty
Inkosazana, who can command all the Zulu impis and
all the spirits of the dead, will need little help
from us.”
RACHEL COMES HOME
As Rachel had travelled up from the Tugela to the
Great Place, so she travelled back from the Great
Place to the Tugela in state and dignity such as became
a thing divine, perhaps the first white woman, moreover,
who had ever entered Zululand. All day she rode
alone, Tamboosa leading the white ox before her and
Richard following behind, while in front and to the
rear marched the serried ranks of the impi, her escort.
At night, as before, she slept alone in the empty
kraals provided for her, attended by the best-born
maidens, Richard being lodged in some hut without the
fence.
So at length, about noon one day, they reached the
banks of the Tugela, not many hours after Ishmael
had crossed it, and camped there. Now, after
she had eaten, Rachel sent for Richard, with whom she
had found but few opportunities to talk during that
journey. He came and stood before her, as all
must do, and she addressed him in English while the
spies and captains watched him sullenly, for they
were angry at this use of a foreign tongue which they
could not understand. Preserving a cold and distant
air, she asked him of his health, and how he had fared.
“Well enough,” he answered. “And
now, what are your plans? The river is in flood,
you will find it difficult to cross. Still it
can be done, for I hear that the white man, Ishmael,
of whom you told me, forded it this morning with a
company of armed men.”
Aware of the eyes that watched her, with an effort
Rachel showed no surprise.
“How is that?” she asked. “I
thought the man fled from Zululand many days ago.
Why then does he leave the country with soldiers?”
“I can’t tell you, Rachel. There
is something queer about the business. When I
inquire, everyone shrugs his shoulders. They say
that the King knows his own business. If I were
you I would ask no questions, for you will learn nothing,
and if you do not ask they will think that you know
all.”
“I understand,” she said. “But,
Richard, I must cross the river to-day. You and
I must cross it alone and reach Ramah to-night.
Richard, something weighs upon my heart; I am terribly
afraid.”
