are certain tit-bits they like that way, just as we do our snipe and woodcock and teal—or say we do.”
In truth the groups engaged upon each carcase were not pleasant to the eye—although thoroughly enjoying themselves—and we left them.
“I say, Glanton, though,” he went on, “I believe I came devilish near getting badly mauled by that beastly cow. The nigger who ripped in that assegai did so in the nick of time. I’d like to give him half-a-crown.”
“Hand over then, Sewin. Here’s the nigger.”
“What? You?”
“Me.”
“But the beast was going full bat.”
“Well, a cow’s a good big target even at twenty yards,” I said.
He whistled. “By Jove! I couldn’t have done it.”
For once I was able to agree with him.
We had dinner in the open, under the waggon sail which I had rigged up as shelter from the sun, and which now did duty to give shelter from the dew.
“I’m afraid it’s all game fare to-night, Mrs. Sewin,” I said. “This is roast bush-buck haunch, and that unsightly looking pot there beside the Major contains a regular up-country game stew. I rather pride myself on it, and it holds five different kinds of birds, besides bacon, and odd notions in the way of pepper, etc.”
“And that’s what you call roughing it,” was the answer. “Why, it looks simply delicious.”
“By Jove, Glanton, we must get the recipe from you,” said the Major when he had sampled it. “I never ate anything so good in my life.”
Tom and another boy in the background, were deft when help was required, and I know that if anybody ever enjoyed their dinner my guests did on that occasion. And upon my word they might well have done so, for trust an old up-country man for knowing how to make the best of the products of the veldt; and the best is very good indeed. And as we partook of this, by the light of a couple of waggon lanterns, slung from the poles of our improvised tent, the surroundings were in keeping. On the open side lay a panorama rapidly growing more and more dim as the stars began to twinkle forth, a sweep of darkening country of something like fifty or sixty miles, reaching away in the far distance beyond the Blood River, on the left, and immediately in front, beyond the Tugela, the wooded river bank and open plains and rocky hills of Zululand. Then, suffusing the far horizon like the glow of some mighty grass fire, the great disc of a broad full moon soared redly upward, putting out the stars.
“Now this is what I call uncommonly jolly,” pronounced the Major, leaning back in his chair, and blowing out the first puffs of his after dinner pipe.
“Hear—hear!” sung out Falkner. And then, warmed up into a glow of generosity by a good dinner and plenty of grog, I’m blest if the fellow didn’t trot out quite a yarn about the cow chevying him and my timely assegai throw; whereupon there was a disposition to make a hero of me on the spot.
“Pooh! The thing was nothing at all,” I objected. “An everyday affair, if you’re working with unbroken cattle.”
Yet there was one face which expressed more than the others, expressed in fact unbounded approval, as it was turned full on me with that straight frank gaze, and I exulted inwardly, but then came a thought that dashed everything and was as a judgment upon my quite unwarrantable conceit. This was it. What if they are engaged, and that full, frank look of approval is one of gratitude that I should have saved—if not the life of the other—at any rate the certainty of him being badly injured? It is singular that no such idea had ever occurred to me before, but it did now, and seemed to lend significance to certain signs of resentment and ill-will which I had noticed on Falkner’s part on occasions where his cousin was concerned. And the thought was a thoroughly disquieting one, I admit.
“Listen! Here they come,” I said, holding up a hand. “The entertainment is about to begin.”
The distant and deep-toned hum of conversation had reached us from where our dusky entertainers were enjoying their feast, and an occasional outburst of laughter. Now, instead, came the regular rhythm of a savage song, drawing nearer and nearer.
“I think we can’t do better than let them perform just in front here,” I went on. “The ground’s open, and the moon almost as bright as day.”
This was agreed to enthusiastically, and soon the singing grew louder and louder, and the whole body in their picturesque gear, came marching up, beating time upon their shields with sticks and assegai hafts. They halted in half moon formation and one man stepping out from the rest, gave the sign for silence. Then having saluted us with much sibongo, he led off, in a sort of chant, loud and clear at first, then rising higher and higher. The others took it up at a given point in response, and although the song did not run to many notes, it was soon thundered aloud in a harmonious wave of sound. When it had attained its highest pitch, at a sign from the choragus it ceased—ceased with such suddenness as to impart an impression that was positively uneasy.
“Dashed effective, by Jove!” pronounced the Major, breaking the spell.
“Why, it is beautiful—positively beautiful,” declared Miss Sewin. “The harmony and the rhythmic waves of sound are perfect. Tell me, Mr. Glanton, what was it all about?”
“Oh, it was merely a song of welcome, improvised over yonder while they were scoffing my cows.”
“Really? Do you mean to say it was all impromptu?”
“Of course. That’s the way these people do things.”
“Won’t they go over it again?”
“Oh, there’s plenty more to come. Rather too soon for an encore yet.”
While I spoke they were forming up again. This time they broke up into a hunting song. When it seemed to have gained its height, it suddenly ceased, and all darted away across the veldt till nearly out of sight in the moonlight.
“What the deuce are they up to now?” said Falkner, filling his pipe.
“You’ll see. Listen. Now they are returning with the game.”
Again the voices broke forth, now returning as I had said, and swelling higher and higher, in a long recitative uttered by some dozen, and replied to in rolling chorus by the whole body.
“They are recounting their exploits now—what game they have got, and how they got it,” I explained, as the singing ceased.
“By Jove, are they?” cried Falkner. “Look here, Glanton, I’ve got an idea. How would it be to scare up a hunt to-morrow, and get a lot of these chaps to help? I’d like to see how they go to work in their own way. That would be worth seeing.”
“Well, it might be managed. What d’you think, Major?”
“A capital idea. But—hang it, we haven’t got our guns.”
“Oh, as to that,” I said, “you could use mine. There’s a shot gun and a rifle, and a rifle and smooth-bore combined. That’ll arm all hands.”
“Well
