CHAPTER XI
A FIGHT AND A SHOT
Early the next morning I sought for Ralph to speak to him on the
matter of his marriage, which, to tell truth, I longed to see safely
accomplished. But I could not find him anywhere, or learn where he had
gone, though one of the slaves told me that they had seen him mount
his horse at the stable.
I went down to the cattle kraal to look if he were there, and as I
returned, I saw Sihamba seated by the door of her hut engaged in
combing her hair and powdering it with the shining blue dust.
"Greeting, Mother of Swallow," she said. "Whom do you seek?"
"You know well," I answered.
"Yes, I know well. At the break of dawn he rode over yonder rise."
"Why?" I asked.
"How can I tell why? But Swart Piet lives out yonder."
"Had he his gun with him?" I asked again and anxiously.
"No, there was nothing but a sjambock, a very thick sjambock, in his
hand."
Then I went back to the house with a heavy heart, for I was sure that
Ralph had gone to seek Piet van Vooren, though I said nothing of it to
the others. So it proved indeed. Ralph had sworn to Suzanne that he
would not try to kill Piet, but here his oath ended, and therefore he
felt himself free to beat him if he could find him, for he was
altogether mad with hate of the man. Now he knew that when he was at
home it was Swart Piet's habit to ride of a morning, accompanied by
one Kaffir only, to visit a certain valley where he kept a large
number of sheep. Thither Ralph made his way, and when he reached the
place he saw that, although it was time for them to be feeding, the
sheep were still in their kraal, baa-ing, stamping, and trying to
climb the gate, for they were hungry to get at the green grass.
"So," thought Ralph, "Swart Piet means to count the flock out himself
this morning. He will be here presently."
Half an hour afterwards he came sure enough, and with him the one
Kaffir as was usual. Then the bars of the gate were let down, and the
sheep suffered to escape through them, Swart Piet standing upon one
side and the Kaffir upon the other, to take tale of their number. When
all the sheep were out, and one of the herds had been brought before
him and beaten by the Kaffir, because some lambs were missing, Swart
Piet turned to ride homewards, and in a little gorge near by came face
to face with Ralph, who was waiting for him. Now he started and looked
to see if he could escape, but there was no way of doing it without
shame, so he rode forward and bid Ralph good-day boldly, asking him if
he had ever seen a finer flock of sheep.
"I did not come here to talk of sheep," answered Ralph, eyeing him.
"Is it of a lamb, then, that you come to talk, Heer Kenzie, a ewe
lamb, the only one of your flock?" sneered Piet, for he had a gun in
his hand and he saw that Ralph had none.
"Aye," said Ralph, "it is of a white ewe lamb whose fleece has been
soiled by a bastard thief who would have stolen her," and he looked at
him.
"I understand," said Piet coldly, for he was a bold man; "and now,
Heer Kenzie, you had best let me ride by."
"Why should I let you ride by when I have come out to seek you?"
"For a very good reason, Heer Kenzie; because I have a gun in my hand
and you have none, and if you do not clear the road presently it may
go off."
"A good reason, indeed," said Ralph, "and one of which I admit the
weight," and he drew to one side of the path as though to let Piet
pass, which he began to do holding the muzzle of the gun in a line
with the other's head. Ralph sat upon his horse staring moodily at the
ground, as though he was trying to make up his mind to say something
or other, but all the time he was watching out of the corner of his
quick eye. Just as Swart Piet drew past him, and was shaking the reins
to put his horse to a canter, Ralph slid from the saddle, and
springing upon him like light, he slipped his strong arm round him and
dragged him backwards to the ground over the crupper of the horse. As
Piet fell he stretched out his hands to grip the saddle and save
himself, so that the gun which he carried resting on his knees dropped
upon the grass. Ralph seized it and fired it into the air; then he
turned to face his enemy, who by this time had found his feet.
"Now we are more equally matched, myn Heer van Vooren," he said, "and
can talk further about that ewe lamb, the only one of the flock. Nay,
you need not look for the Kaffir to help you, for he has run after
your horse, and at the best he will hardly dare to thrust himself
between two angry white men. Come, let us talk, myn Heer."
Black Piet made no answer, so for a while the two stood facing each
other, and they were a strange pair, as different as the light from
the darkness. Ralph fair-haired, grey-eyed, stern-faced, with thin
nostrils, that quivered like those of a well-bred horse, narrow-
flanked, broad-chested, though somewhat slight of limb and body, for
he was but young, and had scarcely come to a man's weight, but lithe
and wiry as a tiger. Piet taller and more massive, for he had the age
of him by five years, with round Kaffir eyes, black and cruel, coarse
black hair that grew low upon his brow, full red lips, the lower
drooping so that the large white teeth and a line of gums could be
seen within. Great-limbed he was also, firm-footed and bull-
strengthed, showing his face the cruelty and the cunning of a black
race, mingled with the mind and mastery of the white; an evil and a
terrible man, knowing no lord save his own passions, and no religion
but black witchcraft and vile superstition; a foe to be feared indeed,
but one who loved better to stab in the dark than to strike in the
open day.
"Well, myn Heer van Vooren," mocked Ralph, "you could fling your arms
about a helpless girl and put her to shame before the eyes of men, now
do the same by me if you can," and he took one step towards him.
"What is this monkey's chatter?" asked Piet, in his slow voice. "Is it
because I gave the girl a kiss that you would fix a quarrel upon me?
Have you not done as much yourself many times, and for a less stake
than the life of one who has been doomed to die?"
"If I have kissed her," answered Ralph, "it is with her consent, and
because she will be my wife; but you worked upon her pity to put her
to shame and now you shall pay the price of it. Do you see that whip?"
and he nodded toward the sjambock that was lying on the grass. "Let
him who proves the best man use it upon the other."
"Will be your wife----" sneered Piet, "the wife of the English
castaway! She might have been, but now she never shall, unless she
cares to wed a carcase cut into rimpis. You want a flogging, and you
shall have it, yes, to the death, but Suzanne shall be--not your wife
but----"
He got no further, for at that moment Ralph sprang at him like a wild
cat, stopping his foul mouth with a fearful blow upon the lips. Then
there followed a dreadful struggle between these two. Black Piet
rushed again and again, striving to clasp his antagonist in his great
arms and crush him, whereas Ralph, who, like all Englishmen, loved to
use his fists, and knew that he was no match for Piet in strength,
sought to avoid him and plant blow after blow upon his face and body.
This, indeed, he did with such success that soon the Boer was covered
with blood and bruises. Again and again he charged at him, roaring
with pain and rage, and again and again Ralph first struck and then
slipped to one side.
At length Piet's turn came, for Ralph in leaping back caught his foot
against a stone and stumbled, and before he could recover himself the
iron arms were round his middle, and they were wrestling for the
mastery.
Still, at the first it was Ralph who had the best of it, for he was
skilful at the game, and before Swart Piet could put out his full
strength he tripped him so that he fell heavily upon his back, Ralph
still locked in his arms. But he could not keep him there, for the
Boer was the stronger; moreover, as they fought they had worked their
way up the steep side of the kloof so that the ground was against him.
Thus it came about that soon they began to roll down hill fixed to
each other as though by ropes, and gathering speed at every turn.
Doubtless, the end of this would have been Ralph's defeat, and perhaps
his death, for I think that, furious as he was, Black Piet would
certainly have killed him had he found himself the master. But it
chanced that his hand was stayed, and thus. Near the bottom of the
slope lay a sharp stone, and as they rolled in their fierce struggle,
Piet's head struck against this stone so that for a few moments he was
rendered helpless. Feeling the grip of his arms loosen, Ralph freed
himself, and running to the sjambock snatched it from the ground. Now
Piet sat up and stared at him stupidly, but he made no effort to renew
the fight, whereon Ralph gasped:
"I promised you a flogging, but since it is chance that has conquered
you more than I, I will take no advantage of it, save this----" and he
struck him once or twice across the face with the whip, but not so as
to draw blood, and added, "Now, at least, I am free from a certain
promise that I made--that I would not kill you--and should you attempt
further harm or insult towards Suzanne Botmar, kill you I will, Piet
van Vooren."
At first Swart Piet did not seem to feel the blows, but presently he
awoke, as it were, and touched his cheeks where the sjambock had
struck him as though to assure himself that he was not dreaming some
evil dream. Then he spoke in a hollow, unnatural voice. "You have won
for this time, Ralph Kenzie," he said, "or, rather, Fate fighting for
you has won. But it would have been better for you and your dear also,
if you had never struck those blows, for I tell you, Ralph Kenzie,
that as your whip touched me something broke in my brain, and now I
think that I am mad."
"Mad or bad, it is all one to me," replied Ralph. "You have had your
warning, and you had best keep sane enough to remember it." Then
turning he went to his horse, which was standing close by, mounted and
rode away, the other answering him nothing.
Still Ralph did not get home without another adventure, for when he
had gone a little way he came to a stream that ran from a hillside
which was thick with trees, and here he stopped to doctor his hurts
and bruises, since he did not wish to appear at the house covered with
blood. Now this was a foolish enough thing to do, seeing the sort of
man with whom he had to deal, and that there was bush where anyone
could hide to within a hundred and twenty yards of his washing place.
So it proved indeed, for just as Ralph had mounted his horse and was
about to ride on, he felt a sharp stinging pain across his shoulders,
as though someone had hit him on the back with a stick, and heard the
sound of a gunshot fired from the cover of the bush, for there above
the green leaves hung a cloud of smoke.
"That is Swart Piet who has crept round to cut me off," Ralph thought
to himself, and for a moment was minded to ride to the smoke to seek
him. Then he remembered that he had no gun, and that that of his enemy
might be loaded again before he found him, and judged it wisest to
canter into the open plain and so homewards. Of the hurt which he had
taken from the bullet he thought little, yet when he reached the house
it was seen that his escape had been narrow indeed, for the great ball
had cut through his clothes beneath his shoulders, so that they hung
down leaving his back naked. Also it had furrowed the skin, causing
the blood to flow copiously, and making so horrible a sight of him
that Suzanne nearly fainted when she saw it. For my part I made
certain that the lad was shot through the body, although, as it turned
out, in a week, except for some soreness he was as well as ever.
Now this matter caused no little stir among us, and Jan was so angry
that, without saying a word to anyone, he mounted his horse and,
taking some armed servants with him, set out to seek Black Piet, but
not to find him, for the man had gone, nobody knew whither. Indeed
this was as well, or so we thought at the time, for though Jan is slow
to move, when once he is moved he is a very angry man, and I am sure
that if he had met Piet van Vooren that day the grasses would have
been richer by the blood of one or both of them. But he did not meet
him and so the thing passed over, for afterwards we remembered that
Ralph had been the aggressor, since no one would take count of this
story of the kissing of a girl, and also that there was no proof at
all that it was Piet who had attempted his life, as that shot might
have been fired by anyone.
Now from this day forward Suzanne went in terror of Swart Piet, and
whenever Ralph rode, he rode armed, for though it was said that he had
gone on one of his long journeys trading among the Kaffirs, both of
them guessed that they had not seen the last of Van Vooren. Jan and I
were afraid also, for we knew the terrible nature of the man and of
his father before him, and that they came of a family which never
forgot a quarrel or left a desire ungratified.
About fourteen days after Ralph had been shot at and wounded, a Kaffir
brought a letter for Jan, which, on being opened, proved to have been
written by Swart Piet, or on his behalf, since his name was set at the
bottom of it. It read thus:--
"To the Heer Jan Botmar,
"Well-beloved Heer, this is to tell you that your daughter,
Suzanne, holds my heart, and that I desire to make her my wife. As
it is not convenient for me to come to see you at present, I write
to ask you that you will consent to our betrothal. I will make a
rich woman of her as I can easily satisfy you, and you will find
it better to have me as a dear son-in-law and friend than as a
stranger and an enemy, for I am a good friend and a bad enemy. I
know there has been some talk of love between Suzanne and the
English foundling at your place; but I can overlook that, although
you may tell the lad that if he is impertinent to me again as he
was the other day, he will not for the second time get off with a
whipping only. Be so good as to give your answer to the bearer,
who will pass it on to those that can find me, for I am travelling
about on business, and do not know where I shall be from day to
day. Give also my love to Suzanne, your daughter, and tell her
that I think often of the time when she shall be my wife.
"I am, well-beloved Heer, your friend,
"Piet van Vooren."
Now, when Ralph had finished reading this letter aloud, for it had
been given to him as the best scholar among us, you might have thought
there were four crazy people in the room, so great was our rage. Jan
and Ralph said little indeed, although they looked white and strange
with anger, and Suzanne not over much, for it was I who talked for all
of them.
"What is your answer, girl?" asked her father presently with an angry
laugh.
"Tell the Heer Piet van Vooren," she replied, smiling faintly, "that
if ever his lips should touch my face again it will be only when that
face is cold in death. Oh! Ralph," she cried, turning to him suddenly
and laying her hand upon his breast, "it may be that this man will
bring trouble and separation on us; indeed, my heart warns me of it,
but, whatever chances, remember my words, dead I may be, but faithful
I shall be--yes, to death and through death."
"Son, take pen and write," said Jan before Ralph could answer. So
Ralph wrote down these words as Jan told them to him:
"Piet van Vooren,
"Sooner would I lay my only child out for burial in the grave than
lead her to the house of a coloured man, a consorter with witch-
doctors and black women and a would-be murderer. That is my
answer, and I add this to it. Set no foot within a mile of my
house, for here we shoot straighter than you do, and if we find
you on this place, by the help of God we will put a bullet through
your carcase."
At the foot of this writing, which he would not suffer to be altered,
Jan printed his name in big letters; then he went out to seek the
messenger, whom he found talking to Sihamba, and having given him the
paper bade him begone swiftly to wherever it was he came from. The
man, who was a strong red-coloured savage, marked with a white scar
across the left cheek, and naked except for his moocha and the kaross
rolled up upon his shoulders, took the letter, hid it in his bundle,
and went.
Jan also turned to go, but I who had followed him and was watching
him, although he did not know it, saw him hesitate and stop.
"Sihamba," he said, "why were you talking to that man?"
"Because it is my business to know of things, Father of Swallow, and I
wished to learn whence he came."
"Did you tell you then?"
"Not altogether, for someone whom he fears has laid a weight upon his
tongue, but I learned that he lives at a kraal far away in the
mountains, and that this kraal is owned by a white man who keeps wives
and cattle at it, although he is not there himself just now. The rest
I hope to hear when Swart Piet sends him back again, for I have given
the man a medicine to cure his child, who is sick, and he will be
grateful to me."
"How do you know that Swart Piet sent the man?" asked Jan.
She laughed and said: "Surely that was easy to guess; it is my
business to twine little threads into a rope."
Again he turned to go and again came back to speak to her.
"Sihamba," he said, "I have seen you talking to that man before. I
remember the scar upon his face."
"The scar upon his face you may remember," she answered, "but you have
not seen us talking together, for until this hour we never met."
"I can swear it," he said angrily. "I remember the straw hat, the
shape of the man's bundle, the line where the shadow fell upon his
foot, and the tic-bird that came and sat near you. I remember it all."
"Surely, Father of Swallow," Sihamba replied, eyeing him oddly, "you
talk of what you have just seen."
"No, no," he said, "I saw it years ago."
"Where?" she asked, staring at him.
He started and uttered some quick words. "I know now," he said. "I saw
it in your eyes the other day."
"Yes," she answered quietly, "I think that, if anywhere, you saw it in
my eyes, since the coming of this messenger is the first of all the
great things that are to happen to the Swallow and to those who live
in her nest. I do not know the things; still, it may happen that
another who has Vision may see them in the glass of my eyes."
