CHAPTER XVIII
WHAT PASSED IN THE HUT
Going on to her hands and knees Sihamba crawled towards the hut. Now
she was within ten paces of it and could see that a man stood on guard
at its doorway. "I must creep round to the back," she thought, and
began to do so, heading for some shrubs which grew to the right.
Already she had almost reached them, when of a sudden, and for an
instant only, the moon shone out between two thick clouds, revealing
her, though indistinctly, to the eyes of the guard. Now Sihamba was
wearing a fur cape made of wild dog's hide, and, crouched as she was
upon her hands and knees, half-hidden, moreover, by a tuft of dry
grass, the man took her to be a wild dog or a jackal, and the hair
which stood out round her head for the ruff upon the animal's neck.
"Take that, you four-legged night thief," he said aloud, and hurled
the assegai in his hand straight at her. The aim was good; indeed, had
she been a dog it would have transfixed her. As it was, the spear
passed just beneath her body, pinning the hanging edges of the cape
and remaining fixed in the tough leather. Now if Sihamba's wit had
left her, as would have happened with most, she was lost, but not for
nothing had she been a witch-doctoress from her childhood, skilled in
every artifice and accustomed to face death. From his words she
guessed that the sentry had mistaken her for a wild beast, so instead
of springing to her feet she played the part of one, and uttering a
howl of pain scrambled away among the bushes. She heard the man start
to follow her, then the moonlight went out and he returned to his post
grumbling over his lost assegai and saying that he would find it in
the jackal's body on the morrow. Sihamba, listening not far away, knew
his voice; it was that of the fellow who had set the noose about her
neck at Swart Piet's bidding and who was to have done the murder in
the pass.
"Now, friend, you are unarmed," she thought to herself, "for you have
no gun with you, and perhaps we shall settle our accounts before you
go to seek that dead jackal by to-morrow's light." Then drawing the
assegai from the cloak and keeping it in her hand, she crept on till
she came to the back of the hut in safety. Still she was not much
nearer to her end, for the hut was new and very well built, and she
could find no crack to look through, though when she placed her ear
against its side she thought that she could hear the sound of a man's
voice. In her perplexity Sihamba cast her eyes upwards and saw that a
fine line of light shone from the smoke-hole at the very top of the
hut, which was hive-shaped, and a thought came into her head.
"If I climb up there," she said to herself, "I can look down through
the smoke-hole and see and hear what passes in the hut. Only then if
the moon comes out again I may be seen lying on the thatch; well, that
I must chance with the rest."
So very slowly and silently, by the help of the rimpis which bound the
straw, she climbed the dome of the hut, laughing to herself to think
that this was the worst of omens for its owner, till at length she
reached the smoke-hole at the top and looked down.
This was what she saw: Half seated, half lying upon a rough bedstead
spread with blankets, was Suzanne. Her hair had come undone and hung
about her, her feet were still loosely bound together, and as the
Kaffir, Asika, had said, her face was like that of a dead woman, and
her eyes were set in a fixed unnatural stare. Before her was a table
cut by natives out of a single block of wood, on which were two
candles of sheep's fat set in bottles, and beyond the table stood
Swart Piet, who was addressing her.
"Suzanne," he said, "listen to me. I have always loved you, Suzanne,
yes, from the time when I was but a boy: we used to meet now and
again, you know, when you were out riding with the Englishman who is
dead"--here Suzanne's face changed, then resumed its deathlike mask--
"and always I worshipped you, and always I hated the Englishman whom
you favoured. Well, as you grew older you began to understand and
dislike me, and Kenzie began to understand and insult me, and from
that seed of slight and insult grew most that is bad in me. Yes,
Suzanne, you will say that I am wicked; and I am wicked. I have done
things of which I should not like to tell you. I have done such things
as you saw last night; I have mixed myself up with Kaffir wizardries
and cruelties; I have forgotten God and taken another master, and so
far from honouring my own father, why, I struck him down when he was
drunk and dared me to do it, and of that blow they say he died. Well,
I owed him nothing less for begetting me into such a world as this,
and teaching me how to find the devil before my time.
"And now," he went on after a pause, for Suzanne answered nothing,
"standing before you as I do here with your husband's blood upon my
hands, and seeking your love over his grave, you will look at me and
say--'This man is a monster, a madman, one who should be cast from the
earth and stamped deep, deep into hell!' Yes, all these things I am,
and let the weight of them rest upon your head, for you made me them,
Suzanne. I am mad, I know that I am mad, as my father and grandfather
were before me, but my madness is mixed with knowledge, for in me runs
the blood of the old Pondo witch-doctoress, my grandmother, she who
knew many things that are not given to white men. When I saw you and
loved you I became half mad--before that I was sane--and when the
Englishman, Kenzie, struck me with the whip after our fight at the
sheep-kraal, ah! then I went wholly mad, and see how wisely, for you
are the first-fruits of my madness, you and the body that to-night
rolls to and fro in the ocean.
"You do not answer: Well, look you, Suzanne, I have won you by craft
and blood, and by craft and blood I will keep you. Here you are in my
power, here Heaven itself could not save you from me, in Bull-Head's
secret krantz which none knew of but some few natives. Choose,
therefore; forget the sins that I have committed to win you and become
my wife willingly, and no woman shall ever find a better husband, for
then the fire and the tempest will leave my brain and it will grow
calm as it was before I saw you.
"Have you still no answer? Well, I will not hurry you. See, I must go
--do you know what for? To set scouts lest by any chance your father
or other fools should have found my hiding-place, though I think that
they can never find it except it be through the wisdom of Sihamba,
which they will not seek. Still I go, and in an hour I will return for
your answer, which you must make then, Suzanne, since whether you
desire it, or desire it not, fortune has given you to me. Have you no
word for me before I go?"
Now during all this long, half-insane harangue, Suzanne had sat quite
silent, making no reply at all, not even seeming to hear the demon,
for such he was, whose wicked talk defiled her ears. But when he asked
her whether she had nothing to say to him before he went, still
looking not at him, but beyond him, she gave him his answer in one
word, the same that she had used when she awoke from her swoon:
"/Murderer/."
Something in the tone in which she spoke, or perhaps in the substance
of that short speech, seemed to cow him; at the least he turned and
left the hut, and presently Sihamba heard him talking to the sentry
without, bidding him to keep close watch till he came back within an
hour.
When Piet went out he left the door-board of the hut open, so that
Sihamba dared neither act nor speak, fearing lest the guard should
hear or see her through it. Therefore she still lay upon the top of
the hut, and watched through the smoke-hole. For a while Suzanne sat
quiet upon the bed, then of a sudden she rose from it, and shuffling
across the hut as well as her bound feet would allow her, she closed
the opening with the door-board, and secured it by its wooden bar.
Next she returned to the bed and, seating upon it, clasped her hands
and began to pray, muttering aloud and mixing with her prayer the name
of her husband Ralph. Ceasing presently, she thrust her hand into her
bosom and drew from it a knife, not large, but strong and very sharp.
Opening this knife she cut the thong that bound her ankles, and made
it into a noose. Then she looked earnestly first at the noose, next at
the knife, and thirdly at the candles, and Sihamba understood that she
meant to do herself to death, and was choosing between steel and rope
and fire.
Now all this while, although she dared not so much as whisper, Sihamba
had not been idle, for with the blade of the assegai she was working
gently at the thatch of the smoke-hole, and cutting the rimpis that
bound it, till at last, and not too soon, she thought that it was wide
enough to allow of the passage of her small body. Then watching until
the guard leaned against the hut, so that the bulge of it would cut
her off from his sight, during the instant that her figure was
outlined against the sky, she stood up, and thrusting her feet through
the hole, forced her body to follow them, and then dropped lightly as
a cat to the floor beneath. But now there was another danger to be
faced, and a great one, namely, that Suzanne might cry out in fear,
which doubtless she would have done, had not the sudden sight of some
living creature in the hut where she thought herself alone, so
startled her that for a moment she lost her breath. Before she could
find it again Sihamba was whispering in her ear, saying:
"Keep silence for your life's sake, Swallow. It is I, Sihamba, who am
come to save you."
Suzanne stared at her, and light came back into the empty eyes, then
they grew dark again, as she answered below her breath:
"Of what use is my life? Ralph is dead, and I was about to take it
that I may save myself from shame and go to seek him, for surely God
will forgive the sin."
Sihamba looked at her and said:
"Swallow, prepare yourself for great joy, and, above all, do not cry
out. Your husband is not dead, he was but wounded, and I drew him
living from the sea. He lies safe at the stead in your mother's care."
Suzanne heard her, and, notwithstanding the caution, still she would
have cried aloud in the madness of her joy, had not Sihamba, seeing
her lips opened, thrust her hands upon her mouth and held them there
till the danger was past.
"You do not lie to me?" she gasped at length.
"Nay, I speak truth, I swear it. But this is no time to talk. Yonder
stand food and milk; eat while I think."
As Sihamba guessed, nothing but a little water had passed Suzanne's
lips since that meal which she and her husband took together beside
the waggon, nor one minute before she could have swallowed anything
had her life been the price of it. But now it was different, for
despair had left her, and hope shone in her heart again, and behold!
of a sudden she was hungry, and ate and drank with gladness, while
Sihamba thought.
Presently the little woman looked up and whispered:
"A plan comes into my head; it is a strange one, but I can find no
other, and it may serve our turn, for I think that good luck goes with
us. Swallow, give me the noose of hide which you made from the riem
that bound your feet."
Suzanne obeyed her wondering, whereon Sihamba placed the noose about
her own neck, then bade Suzanne stand upon the bed and thrust the end
of the riem loosely into the thatch of the hut as high up as she could
reach, so that it looked as though it were made fast there. Next,
Sihamba slipped off her fur cloak, leaving herself naked except for
the moocha round her middle, and, clasping her hands behind her back
with the assegai between them, she drew the riem taut, and leaned
against the wall of the hut after the fashion of one who is about to
be pulled from the ground and strangled.
"Now, mistress, listen to me," she said earnestly. "You have seen me
like this before, have you not, when I was about to be hanged, and you
bought my life at a price? Well, as it chances, that man who guards
the hut is he who took me at Bull-Head's bidding and set the rope
round my neck, whereon I said some words to him which made him afraid.
Now if he sees me again thus in a hut where he knows you to be alone,
he will think that I am a ghost and his heart will turn to ice and the
strength of his hands to water, and then before he can find his
strength again I shall make an end of him with the spear, as I know
well how to do although I am so small, and we will fly."
"Is there no other way?" murmured Suzanne aghast.
"None, Swallow. For you the choice lies between witnessing this deed
and--Swart Piet or--Death. Nay, you need not witness it even, if you
will do as I tell you. Presently, when I give the word, loosen the bar
of the door-board, then crouch by the hole and utter a low cry of
fear, calling to the man on guard for help. He will enter and see me,
whereon you can creep through the door-hole and wait without, leaving
me to deal with him. If I succeed I will be with you at once; if I
fail, run to the stream and hoot like an owl, when Zinti, who is
hidden there, will join you. Then you must get out of the krantz as
best you can. Only one man watches the entrance, and if needful Zinti
can shoot him. The /schimmel/ and other horses are hidden in the wood,
and he will lead you to them. Mount and ride for home, or anywhere
away from this accursed place, and at times when you talk of the
matter of your escape with your husband, think kindly of Sihamba
Ngenyanga. Nay, do not answer, for there is little time to lose.
Quick, now, to the door-hole, and do as I bade you."
So, like one in a dream, Suzanne loosened the bar, and, crouching by
the entrance to the hut, uttered a low wail of terror, saying, "Help
me, soldier, help me swiftly," in the Kaffir tongue. The man without
heard, and, pushing down the board, crept in at once, saying, "Who
harms you, lady?" as he rose to his feet. Then suddenly, in this hut,
where there was but one woman, a white woman, whom he himself had
carried into it, he beheld another woman--Sihamba; and his hair stood
up upon his head and his eyes grew round with terror. Yes, it was
Sihamba herself, for the light of the candles shone full upon her, or,
rather, her ghost, and she was hanging to the roof, the tips of her
toes just touching the ground, as once he had seen her hang before.
For some seconds the man stared in his terror, and while he stared
Suzanne slipped from the hut. Then muttering, "It is the spirit of the
witch, Sihamba, who prophesied my death--her spirit that haunts me,"
he dropped to his knees, and, trembling like a leaf, turned to creep
from the hut. Next second he was /dead/, dead without a sound, for
Sihamba was a doctoress, and knew well where to thrust with the spear.
Of all this Suzanne heard nothing and saw nothing, till presently
Sihamba stood by her side holding the skin cape in one hand and the
spear in the other.
"Now one danger is done with," she said quietly, as she put on the
cape, "but many still remain. Follow me, Swallow," and, going to the
edge of the stream, she hooted like an owl, whereupon Zinti came out
of the reeds, looking very cold and frightened.
"Be swift," whispered Sihamba, and they started along the krantz at a
run. Before they were half way across it, the storm-clouds, which had
been thinning gradually, broke up altogether, and the moon shone out
with a bright light, showing them as plainly as though it were day;
but as it chanced they met nobody and were seen of none.
At length they reached the cleft in the rock that led to the plain
below. "Stay here," said Sihamba, "while I look," and she crept to the
entrance. Presently she returned and said:
"A man watches there, and it is not possible to slip past him because
of the moonlight. Now, I know of only one thing that we can do; and
you, Zinti, must do it. Slip down the rock and cover the man with your
gun, saying to him that if he stirs a hand or speaks a word you will
shoot him dead. Hold him thus till we are past you on our way to the
wood, then follow us as best you can, but do not fire except to save
your life or ours."
Now the gifts of Zinti lay rather in tracking and remembering paths
and directions than in fighting men, so that when he heard this order
he was afraid and hesitated. But when she saw it, Sihamba turned upon
him so fiercely that he feared her more than the watchman, and went at
once, so that this man who was half asleep suddenly saw the muzzle of
a /roer/ within three paces of his head and heard a voice command him
to stand still and silent or die. Thus he stood indeed until he
perceived that the new wife of his chief was escaping. Then
remembering what would be his fate at the hands of Bull-Head he
determined to take his chance of being shot, and, turning suddenly,
sped towards the kraal shouting as he ran, whereon Zinti fired at him,
but the ball went wide. A cannon could scarcely have made more noise
than did the great /roer/ in the silence of the night as the report of
it echoed to and fro among the hills.
"Oh! fool to fire, and yet greater fool to miss," said Sihamba. "To
the horses! Swift! swift!"
They ran as the wind runs, and now they were in the wood, and now they
had found the beasts.
"Praise to the Snake of my house!" said Sihamba, "they are safe, all
four of them," and very quickly they untied the riems by which they
had fastened the horses to the trees.
"Mount, Swallow," said Sihamba, seizing the head of the great
/schimmel/.
Suzanne set her foot upon the shoulder of Zinti, who knelt to receive
it, and sprang into the saddle. Then having lifted Sihamba on the grey
mare Zinti mounted the other horse himself, holding the mule by a
leading riem.
"Which way, mistress?" he asked.
"Homewards," she answered, and they cantered forward through the wood.
On the further side of this wood was a little sloping plain not more
than three hundred paces wide, and beyond it lay the seaward Nek
through which they must pass on their journey to the stead. Already
they were out of the wood and upon the plain, when from their right a
body of horsemen swooped towards them, seven in all, of whom one, the
leader, was Swart Piet himself, cutting them off from the Nek. They
halted their horses as though to a word of command, and speaking
rapidly, Sihamba asked of Zinti: "Is there any other pass through
yonder range, for this one is barred to us?"
"None that I know of," he answered; "but I have seen that the ground
behind us is flat and open as far as the great peak which you saw
rising on the plain away beyond the sky-line."
"Good," said Sihamba. "Let us head for the peak, since we have nowhere
else to go, and if we are separated, let us agree to meet upon its
southern slope. Now, Zinti, loose the mule, for we have our lives to
save, and ride on, remembering that Death is behind you."
