Pandulu realised that his end had come. His struggles were useless beneath the weight and against the powerful grasp of Sapazani, for he had fallen face downward, and his pursuer had taken care he should not move from that position.
"Well, traitor! Well, white man's dog!" snarled the chief. "I am going to pa.s.s the remainder of the dark hours beside a fire, and on that fire thyself. Ha! it will be a warm one. But to begin with--how likest thou that and that?"
"That and that" represented two long cuts of Sapazani's sharp a.s.segai, drawn across the fallen man's shoulders. The flesh quivered convulsively, but no groan escaped the tortured man. Even then he was calculating his chances, for he still clung desperately to life. In a few minutes it would be pitch dark, could he not, by a sudden movement, wriggle himself free? The chances of flight under such conditions would be all in his favour. And the stakes! He had been promised reward such as would have made him rich for life, and could he have made such a discovery as that Sapazani was a leading figure in the plot, why, it would have meant still more. But another sharp dig from the a.s.segai again made him writhe.
"Now white man's little-dog who would have betrayed us," went on the chief in a growling tone, like that of a wild beast. "That other will find us directly, and then we will make a fire and have a merry roast.
Ha! And that roast shall be thyself. Ha!"
"Spare me the fire, my father, and I will name thee others who have more to do with this than I," pleaded the captive.
Sapazani was on the alert. He saw through the other's plan. It was a question of a sudden relaxation of muscle on his part and his victim would slip through his fingers, and away into the darkness. Ought he not to kill him at once? If only Undhlawafa were not so old and slow-footed! He could hold his victim for ever if necessary, but he could not tie him up and light a fire single-handed.
"Who are 'others,' and what part had they?" demanded the chief, with another admonitory prod.
The victim named two names. Sapazani nodded. Them he could easily get into his power. Pandulu then began to give details of the scheme under which the plotters were to be brought within the white man's net, all unconsciously, and there arrested. He also entered into considerable detail as to the reward they--the traitors--were to receive. But this did not hoodwink Sapazani. He felt the creeping tension of the muscles of his victim, knew that the latter was reckoning on the listener's physical tension growing merged in his mental interest, so that at the right moment he should make a spring for life and liberty. He took a quick glance upward. He could tell by the sky that the moon had nearly disappeared. No, he could not afford to wait any longer for Undhlawafa.
Just then two tiger wolves howled, answering each other, very near at hand.
"They wait for thee, Pandulu," he snarled. "Already they smell blood.
Well, go. _Hamba gahle_!"
With the words he drove his a.s.segai down hard between the prostrate man's shoulders. The body and limbs quivered convulsively, beating the ground. Hardly had they stilled than the faint light disappeared. It would not have been safe to have delayed any longer. And in the black gloom of the grim forest the dead man lay, and before morning the ravening beasts would have left nothing of him but crunched and scattered bones.
Those few last words whispered to Sapazani by the white arch-plotter had contained a death warrant.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
DISCOMFITURE.
"Well, girlie, and what d'you think of our prospective guest now that you've had time to form an opinion?" said Ben Halse, a few days after their arrival at Ezulwini.
"Candidly," answered Verna, "I think him one of the nicest and pleasantest men I ever met."
"Or _the_ nicest?"
"Perhaps that."
"Well, that's lucky, because it'll be much jollier for you to have some one fresh to talk to for the next few weeks. Shall we get Harry Stride along too--on the principle of the more the merrier?"
"N-no; I don't think in this case the more would be a bit the merrier, rather the reverse."
"Same here. But I thought perhaps a young un about might be jollier for you while we old 'uns yarned," answered her father, with a spice of lurking mischief.
"'Old 'uns?'" echoed Verna, raising her eyebrows. "Why, you don't call Mr Denham _old_?"
"Oh, that's drawn you, has it?" cried Ben. "Quite right, dear. He isn't old."
Under her father's straight gaze and quizzical laugh Verna could not for the life of her restrain a slight change of colour.
"I shall have to give you such a pinch, dear, if you talk like that,"
she said. "One that'll hurt."
The two were standing among the rose-bushes in the garden of the Nodwengu Hotel. It was a lovely morning, though Alp-like ma.s.ses of cloud in the distance gave promise of thunder. Ben Halse had been detained longer than he had reckoned on, but had found it unnecessary to go on to Durban. In a day or two he expected to return home. The time at Ezulwini went by pleasantly enough. The trader had several old friends in the place, and Verna was in request for tennis, here or there. So, too, was Denham, who had at once been made free of the ready friendliness of a small community.
"Talking of Denham," went on Ben Halse, puffing at a newly lighted pipe that would only half draw, "it's a rum thing, Verna, that just as you had been wondering what sort of chap he was he should have turned up here."
"Yes, isn't it? But I hope he won't find it too rough with us," she added somewhat anxiously.
"Not he. Didn't he say he'd knocked about in South America? I expect it's a sight rougher in parts there than here. He's a man who takes things as they come, rely upon it. And he doesn't put on an atom of 'side.'"
Incidentally, "side" is _the_ unpardonable sin among our colonial brethren, and rightly so.
"No, that he certainly doesn't," a.s.sented Verna decisively. "Oh, I dare say it'll be all right."
At the same time she was wondering as to this anxiety on behalf of this particular guest's comfort. She had never done so on behalf of any other, had never dreamed of giving any such consideration a second thought. They must just take them as they found them, or, if not, stay away, was her rule.
"Why, here comes Harry Stride," said Ben, looking up. "He seems a bit cross by the way he's walking. You can nearly always tell a man's mood by the way he walks. Hallo, Harry!"
The young prospector turned to join them, only too delighted. He was a handsome and manly-looking young fellow, as Verna was not slow to recognise as she noted his tall form coming down the garden path.
"Come from the club, Harry?" said the trader.
"Yes, I couldn't stick it any longer. That man Denham's there, laying down the law, as usual. I'm fed up with Denham. It seems that a man has only to come out from home with enough coin, and crowd on enough 'side,' and--"
"But this one doesn't crowd on 'side,'" interrupted Verna quietly.
The other stared.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," he said. "I forgot he was a friend of yours.
I ought to have remembered."
"We most of us suffer from lapse of memory at times, Harry," said Ben Halse kindly. "Often two people don't take to each other, and that through no fault on either side. Now the sun's over the yard-arm and I'm going in to wet the bosun's whistle. You join?"
"No, thanks, Mr Halse. It's rather too early for me."
"Sure? Well, I'll have to do it alone, then. So long." And he strolled off, leaving the two young people together.
"What a splendid chap your father is, Verna," began Stride, for on the strength of his former "refusal," with which we heard him acquaint his partner, she conceded him the use of her Christian name--at any rate, in private. "So kind and tactful."
Verna smiled. The encomium holding good of herself, she refrained from lecturing him on the subject of the vilified Denham. As a matter of fact, since Stride's arrival she had been about with him far more than with the other, so that really there was no ground for the younger man's jealous irritation--as yet. As yet? Exactly. But he, for his part, was looking ahead. Would she not be under the same roof for an indefinite time with the objectionable stranger? He knew by experience that it was impossible to be under the same roof for an indefinite time with Verna Halse and go forth again heart-whole. And this stranger seemed to be "coiny," and, to give the devil his due, was a fine-looking fellow, poor Stride allowed, whereas he himself hardly had a "fiver" to his name, and lived mainly on the great G.o.d Hope. In fact, remembering this he was inclined to abandon the resolution we heard him express to his partner--trying his luck again. It was hopeless. He had better make up his mind to throw up the sponge. But Verna's next words acted upon him like a spur.
"We start for home to-morrow," she said.
"No!"
"Yes." She could not help smiling a little at his crestfallen look.
All the woman within her accepted the tribute, and at the same time felt pitiful towards him.