The Shangani Patrol (45 page)
Read The Shangani Patrol Online
Authors: John Wilcox
‘Ah.’ The king interrupted her again. ‘Not like Zulus this time. This time I have rifles and many, many more men than British. This time we throw British out of my country.’
Another roar went up and the people began to ululate, swaying their hips and slowly jogging from one foot to the other. De Sousa had stood, too, and was clapping his hands in time to the rhythm. Then he smiled, turned and said something into Lobengula’s ear.
The king relayed it to Alice. ‘My friend here offers to take you back to the mountain. Keep you safe on journey. Country not safe for white woman to cross it alone.’
Alice shook her head. ‘No. Twice before he has tried to kill me and my husband. He is a murderer and would butcher me and my servant as soon as we were on the veldt.’ She thought quickly. How to buy time? ‘Your majesty, allow me to treat your foot once more.’
The frown reappeared on Lobengula’s features. His uncertainty was obvious. The choice lay between showing his rejection of the white witch and of her people’s ways by openly dismissing her, or submitting and gaining some respite, at least, from the pain that nagged at his foot. Eventually he mumbled something very quietly to Mzingeli.
‘He say come back when sun is at highest,’ translated the tracker.
Alice rose and bowed her head, and she and Mzingeli walked away, to the derision of the crowd. As they made their way back up the hill, she heard Lobengula shout a command.
‘He tell his people not to harm us,’ said the tracker.
Alice hardly heard, for her head was spinning. She had travelled two hundred miles all for nothing. Her mission had been a complete failure. It had been a gamble, of course, but she had hoped that the strange half-friendship that had been forged as a result of her ministrations to the royal foot might have gained her a longer hearing. The killing of the
inDunas
at Tuli, of course, had sealed the matter. Now she had put her life and Mzingeli’s at risk once again. How to avoid de Sousa on the long ride back to Fort Salisbury?
inDunas
at Tuli, of course, had sealed the matter. Now she had put her life and Mzingeli’s at risk once again. How to avoid de Sousa on the long ride back to Fort Salisbury?
She put the question to the tracker.
Mzingeli was silent for an unusually long time while he pondered the problem. Eventually he said, ‘Don’t know, Nkosana. Could go long way back, to Tuli, and ask for help from soldiers there. But Gouela will have trackers with him. They will pick up trail and follow. Kill us before we reach Tuli. Perhaps king will give us men to protect us on way.’
‘I doubt it. But I will ask him.’
On her return at noon, the atmosphere inside the king’s house was cold, despite the fire that he habitually kept burning. Lobengula hardly spoke, and the pile of empty champagne and brandy bottles seemed to mock Alice as she once again injected him. As she packed her bag, she raised the subject of de Sousa’s threat.
‘He don’t hurt you. I tell him. Now you go. King is grateful for you taking pain from foot. But go back to your own people and tell them that my impis coming to eat them up. Go now.’
Alice bowed, and with Mzingeli made her way back towards Fairbairn’s store. The pair were just outside the inner
zariba
when a native appeared from one of the huts and gestured to them.
zariba
when a native appeared from one of the huts and gestured to them.
‘What does he want?’ asked Alice.
‘He say one of
inDunas
has news about your husband.’
inDunas
has news about your husband.’
Alice paused, a frown on her face. ‘What? Simon - oh goodness. He has followed us and been captured. Oh no! Come on, Mzingeli.’
‘No, Nkosana. No.’ But Alice was already running towards the man and following him down a steep incline into a little copse of trees. The tracker ran after her, and burst into the shade of the thicket to find two assegais at his throat. Alice was struggling in the grasp of a large black warrior of indistinct origin - not a Matabele - while de Sousa, resplendent in gold uniform, nodded in delight at both of them.
‘Welcome, Mrs Fonthill,’ he said. ‘I am sorry you refused my offer of protection because,’ he gestured with a cheroot, ‘this place can be dangerous, as you see.’
Alice’s mouth had suddenly become dry, and it seemed as though her tongue had swollen and made it difficult to speak. ‘You will not harm either of us,’ she gasped. ‘The king has promised us his protection.’
‘Ah, but you have said goodbye to the king, and he has other, more pressing matters on his mind than to worry about a silly Englishwoman who has set off across the very dangerous veldt.’ He nodded to where a thin, elderly native held a sack well away from his body. It was tied at the neck but something was wriggling inside it.
‘This is not exactly puff adder territory, but some of them do get this far north, and this one certainly has, as you can see.’ He allowed a thin spiral of smoke to climb into the air.
The realisation of what de Sousa intended made Alice tremble with a mixture of fright and disgust. She struggled, but the man who held her strengthened his grip. ‘Mzingeli . . .’ she began. The tracker’s eyes were wide and glowing yellow, but with two spearheads at his throat, he could not move.
‘Mrs Fonthill!’ James Fairbairn’s voice rang out clearly from the track above. ‘I saw you go down there. The king wants you urgently, I fear. Can you come right away, please? Are you all right?’
Before a hand could be clapped to her mouth, Alice shouted, her voice cracking with relief, ‘Yes, Mr Fairbairn. Please hold on to help me up the hill, if you would be so kind. I am coming now.’ Then, equally loudly, ‘Come, Mzingeli.’
The man holding her looked quizzically at de Sousa, who snarled and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Alice, her eyes on the sack, grabbed Mzingeli’s hand and they both ran out of the thicket to meet the most welcome sight in the world: Fairbairn, pipe clenched in his mouth, coming crabwise down the steep track, his hand extended towards her.
Alice grabbed the trader’s hand so tightly that the Scotsman winced. ‘Don’t worry, lassie,’ he said, ‘that bluidy man can’t hurt you now. I am too close to the king for him to tangle with me.’
The three scrambled up the slope to the track above. ‘How did you know . . . ?’ began Alice.
‘I saw you follow that man down. I knew he was one of the Portuguese’s little troop and I smelled trouble. So I came after ye. The king doesn’t want you, of course, but he wasn’t to know that. Now, don’t worry, you’ll be safe enough with me.’
‘Oh, Mr Fairbairn, we are so grateful.’ And she told him about the snake.
Fairbairn wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘Aye. He’s a bit handy with the reptiles. I remember how he tried to kill your husband. I’ll have my lads take extra precautions around my place.’ He gestured towards his store. ‘We’re nearly there. We’ll all have a cup of tea - I’m only charging thruppence a cup now.’
Alice forced a smile. ‘Cheap at the price, dear Mr Fairbairn.’
Once inside the store, the three sat together to drink their tea. ‘I’m afeared that you’ve got a problem now, lassie,’ mused Fairbairn. ‘I know Gouela. He’ll stay with the king to show he’s not following but he’ll send his men after you if you set off. You can stay here if you like.’
Shaking her head, Alice said, ‘That’s kind of you, Mr Fairbairn, but it would just enrage the king. He has told me to go. No. I suppose we shall have to take our chance out on the veldt.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘We have guns, after all. We can fight. We will need to buy provisions from you for the journey, and if you will allow us to stay overnight, we will set off before dawn and ride as fast as we can and to hell with them.’
The Scotsman grinned. ‘You’ve got courage, lassie. I will spread the word that you’re riding to Tuli. That might send ’em off on the wrong track for a wee while and give you a bit more time. Now, what will you be needing for your trek?’
Later that afternoon, Alice had finished her purchases and was taking a mournful second cup of tea with Mzingeli - ‘Have this one on me,’ said Fairbairn - when a Matabele and a woman, presumably his wife, came into the store and began speaking quietly to the trader. Alice noticed that the three kept looking at her as they talked, and then the Scotsman walked to his entrance, looked about outside and closed the door.
‘Do you ken this man, Mrs Fonthill?’ he asked.
‘What? Oh, I don’t think so.’
‘I think he’s a friend of yours.’
Alice rose and walked over to the trio. The man was thin and looked silently at the floor as she approached, as did his wife. She remembered glimpsing his face when she entered the inner kraal and walked to face the king. She felt then that she had seen him before but, as now, she could not remember where or when.
‘He says you saved his life and he wants to help you now.’
‘Why? I don’t understand . . .’
Then the Matabele looked into her face and raised his right arm. His hand had been severed at the wrist and only a stump remained.
‘Ah. The thief!’ Immediately she felt ashamed of herself for so condemning him and involuntarily added, ‘I am sorry, forgive me.’
Fairbairn grinned and waggled the pipe between his teeth. ‘Don’t worry. He can’t understand. But he has heard that the Portuguese is planning to send some of his men out after you as soon as you leave tomorrow. And he has a plan, of sorts, to help. He’s grateful to you, you see, and so is his wife here.’
‘How kind of him to want to help us. But what can he do?’ Alice was suddenly conscious that Mzingeli was by her side, listening intently.
Fairbairn nodded to the man, who looked over his shoulder nervously, then, seeing that the door stayed firmly shut, began speaking quickly.
The trader translated. ‘He’s seen your mule grazing outside and has asked if you have horses. I’ve explained that you arrived late yesterday and that I’ve put your horses in my stables just behind the house, where hopefully nobody has seen them. He’s happy about that because his plan is this. You will set out after dark tonight, before the moon comes up, leading your horses and leaving by that dried-up watercourse at the back of the store. You will take a less direct course for Fort Salisbury, going due east rather than north-east. It will be difficult for anyone to pick up your spoor among the stones in the donga. At the same time, he and his wife will take your mule and head directly to the fort. They will go as fast as they can to give you time to get away. The idea is that the trackers will follow the spoor of two people and a mule, thinking that it’s you two, of course. I have to say it’s an ingenious scheme, so it is.’
The trader took out his pipe long enough to send another column of smoke to the ceiling. ‘What you’ve got to do now is to be seen outside the store, ostentatiously loading the mule. I can give you sacks we can stuff for that purpose. You put your real provisions on your horses, of course, keeping them out of sight in the stables. It’ll mean you’ll have to travel very light, you ken. No tent, for example.’
Alice regarded the two Matabele, who were standing before her diffidently, almost sheepishly, as though they were about to be put on trial. She turned to Mzingeli.
‘What do you think?’
The tracker gave his usual pause. ‘Could be good way of stealing mule,’ he said expressionlessly. ‘Man is thief, remember. But if honest, good plan.’
She thought for a moment. ‘I am prepared to trust them, Mr Fairbairn. Will you say that I am very grateful and I hope they find the mule useful.’ She put out her hand and shook the left hand of the man and then that of his wife. They both allowed themselves to look into her eyes and returned her smile. ‘Ah, Mr Fairbairn,’ Alice exclaimed. ‘I feel I can trust them. Anyway, it seems our only hope. I realise that they are also behaving very courageously. They could well be killed when de Sousa catches up with them.’
The trader nodded. ‘You’re right. It’s damned unusual for a Matabele - let alone his wife - to go out on to the veldt after dark. And as for finding the mule useful, they will if they are left with it after de Sousa’s men catch them. I agree with you that they are being very brave. They’ve got guts.’
The man and his wife left the store carrying several pots and pans - which Alice of course paid for - so giving a reason for their visit to any spying eyes. Half an hour later, Mzingeli began loading the mule, taking his time about it, before leading the animal round to the back of the store.
The night was black when they set out. Alice embraced Fairbairn at the stable entrance, somewhat to his embarrassment, and shook the hands of the two Matabeles before they began leading the mule away to the left as Alice and Mzingeli dipped down into the donga to the right, feeling their way awkwardly on the stones that lined its bottom. Then darkness swallowed them all.
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