Child of Storm | Page 6

as a son-in-law, unless it were Macumazahn here," he
said, digging me in the ribs with his elbow, "who would lift up my
House on his white back."
Now, at this speech Saduko shifted his feet uneasily; it seemed to me as
though he felt there was truth in Umbezi's estimate of his daughter's
character. But he only said:
"Cattle can be acquired."
"Or stolen," suggested Umbezi.
"Or taken in war," corrected Saduko. "When I have a hundred head I
will hold you to your word, O father of Mameena."
"And then what would you live on, fool, if you gave all your beasts to
me? There, there, cease talking wind. Before you have a hundred head
of cattle Mameena will have six children who will not call you father.
Ah, don't you like that? Are you going away?"
"Yes, I am going," he answered, with a flash of his quiet eyes; "only
then let the man whom they do call father beware of Saduko."
"Beware of how you talk, young man," said Umbezi in a grave voice.
"Would you travel your father's road? I hope not, for I like you well;
but such words are apt to be remembered."
Saduko walked away as though he did not hear.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"One of high blood," answered Umbezi shortly. "He might be a chief
to-day had not his father been a plotter and a wizard. Dingaan smelt
him out"--and he made a sideways motion with his hand that among the
Zulus means much. "Yes, they were killed, almost every one; the chief,

his wives, his children and his headmen--every one except Chosa his
brother and his son Saduko, whom Zikali the dwarf, the
Smeller-out-of-evil-doers, the Ancient, who was old before
Senzangakona became a father of kings, hid him. There, that is an evil
tale to talk of," and he shivered. "Come, White Man, and doctor that
old Cow of mine, or she will give me no peace for months."
So I went to see the Worn-out-Old-Cow--not because I had any
particular interest in her, for, to tell the truth, she was a very
disagreeable and antique person, the cast-off wife of some chief whom
at an unknown date in the past the astute Umbezi had married from
motives of policy--but because I hoped to hear more of Miss Mameena,
in whom I had become interested.
Entering a large hut, I found the lady so impolitely named "the Old
Cow" in a parlous state. There she lay upon the floor, an unpleasant
object because of the blood that had escaped from her wound,
surrounded by a crowd of other women and of children. At regular
intervals she announced that she was dying, and emitted a fearful yell,
whereupon all the audience yelled also; in short, the place was a perfect
pandemonium.
Telling Umbezi to get the hut cleared, I said that I would go to fetch my
medicines. Meanwhile I ordered my servant, Scowl, a
humorous-looking fellow, light yellow in hue, for he had a strong dash
of Hottentot in his composition, to cleanse the wound. When I returned
from the wagon ten minutes later the screams were more terrible than
before, although the chorus now stood without the hut. Nor was this
altogether wonderful, for on entering the place I found Scowl trimming
up "the Old Cow's" ear with a pair of blunt nail-scissors.
"O Macumazana," said Umbezi in a hoarse whisper, "might it not
perhaps be as well to leave her alone? If she bled to death, at any rate
she would be quieter."
"Are you a man or a hyena?" I answered sternly, and set about the job,
Scowl holding the poor woman's head between his knees.

It was over at length; a simple operation in which I exhibited--I believe
that is the medical term--a strong solution of caustic applied with a
feather.
"There, Mother," I said, for now we were alone in the hut, whence
Scowl had fled, badly bitten in the calf, "you won't die now."
"No, you vile White Man," she sobbed. "I shan't die, but how about my
beauty?"
"It will be greater than ever," I answered; "no one else will have an ear
with such a curve in it. But, talking of beauty, where is Mameena?"
"I don't know where she is," she replied with fury, "but I very well
know where she would be if I had my way. That peeled willow-wand
of a girl"--here she added certain descriptive epithets I will not
repeat--"has brought this misfortune upon me. We had a slight quarrel
yesterday, White Man, and, being a witch as she is, she prophesied evil.
Yes, when by accident I scratched her ear, she said that before long
mine should burn, and surely burn it does." (This, no doubt, was