the days of my life-第14章

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However　there　was　a　drawback。　I　knew　no　Kaffir；　he　knew　no　English。　Luckily　I　did　know　the　Kaffir　name　of　Mr。　Shepstone　—　“Sompseu”　—　which　is　known　by　every　black　in　South　Africa；　and　managed　to　make　my　friend　understand　that　I　was　travelling　with　the　“Mighty　Hunter；”　also　that　there　were　four　waggons。　Now　he　had　not　seen　these　but　had　heard　that　they　were　in　the　neighbourhood；　so　following　his　unerring　instinct　he　at　once　struck　out　for　the　high　road　from　which　I　had　wandered　some　five　miles。　Arrived　there；　he　managed　by　the　glimmer　of　the　stars　to　find　the　track　of　the　waggons；　and　having　satisfied　himself　that　they　had　passed；　struck　away　again　into　the　most　awful　places　where　anything　but　the　Basuto　pony　I　was　riding　must　have　e　to　grief。
On　we　went　for　about　eight　miles　till　I　began　to　think　my　friend　was　knocking　under　to　the　cold　（a　very　little　cold　kills　them）　and　making　for　his　own　kraal。　However；　to　my　astonishment　he　hit　the　track　again　and　at　length　came　safely　to　the　waggons。　I　was　not　sorry　to　see　them。　I　found　the　Governor　in　a　dreadful　state　of　alarm。
Two　days　ago　we　went　up　to　Pagate’s　kraal。　He　is　a　rather　powerful　chief　under　our　protection；　having　some　fifteen　thousand　people。　It　is　a　very　good　specimen　of　a　chief’s　kraal。　It　stands　on　a　high　promontory　that　juts　out　and　divides　two　enormous　valleys　at　the　bottom　of　one　of　which　runs　the　Mooi　River。　The　view　is　superb；　two　thousand　feet　below　lies　the　plain　encircled　by　tremendous　hills　bush…clad　to　the　very　top；　while　at　the　bottom　flashes　a　streak　of　silver　which　is　the　river。　There　is　little　of　what　we　admire　in　views　in　England；　but　Nature　in　her　wild　and　rugged　grandeur。
His　kraal　is　curious。　In　extent　it　covers　about　ten　acres。　First　there　is　the　outer　fence；　inside　of　which　are　the　huts；　and　then　a　stronger　inner　one　to　hold　the　cattle　in　times　of　danger。　The　chief’s　kraal　is　at　the　top　and　fenced　off。
We　went　into　the　principal　hut　and　partook　of　refreshments　in　the　shape　of　Kaffir　beer。
Next　morning　Pagate　gave　a　war　dance；　which　is　one　of　the　most　strange　and　savage　sights　I　ever　saw。　It　was　not　very　large　as　they　only　had　a　day’s　notice　to　collect　the　warriors；　however　some　five　hundred　turned　up。
The　dance　was　held　in　front　of　our　camp。　First　arrived　a　warrior　herald　dressed　in　his　war…plumage；　ox…tails　round　the　shoulders　and　middle；　a　circlet　of　some　long　white　hair　round　the　right　knee；　a　circlet　round　the　head　from　which　arose　a　solitary　plume　of　the　Kaffir　crane；　in　one　hand　the　large　white　ox…hide　shield　and　in　the　other　his　assegais；　which　however　were　represented　by　long　sticks；　assegais　not　being　allowed　at　these　affairs。
This　gentleman　was　acpanied　by　a　little　old　woman　who　rushed　about　shrieking　like　a　wild　thing。　He　sang　the　praises　of　his　chief。
“Pagate！　Pagate　is　ing！　Pagate　the　son　of　——　who　did　——；　the　son　of　——　who　did　——；”　and　so　on　through　some　scores　of　generations。
“Pagate’s　soldiers　are　ing！　Pagate’s　soldiers　who　drink　the　blood　of　their　enemies；　who　know　how　to　kill！　Pheasants　for　whom　no　other　pheasant　ever　scratched”　（i。e。　who　could　look　after　themselves）；　and　so　on。
Then　he　retired。　Presently　the　warriors　arrived　in　panies　singing　a　sort　of　solemn　chant。　Each　man　was　dressed　in　his　fierce；　fantastic　war…dress。　One　half　wore　heron　plumes；　the　rest　long　black　plumes；　each　pany　had　a　leader　and　a　separate　pattern　of　shield。　They　formed　themselves　into　a　half…square　looking　very　fierce　and　imposing。　Each　pany　as　it　arrived　caught　up　the　solemn　war…chant；　which　was　sung　in　perfect　time　and　was　the　most　impressive　thing　I　ever　heard。
As　the　chief　came　up　attended　by　his　bodyguard　it　grew　louder　and　louder；　till　it　swelled　to　a　regular　paean；　when　the　old　man；　fired　with　martial　ardour；　flung　off　the　attendants　who　supported　him；　and　forgetting　his　age　and　weakness　ran　to　the　head　of　his　warriors。　I　shall　never　forget　the　sight。
The　Governor　drew　near　and　was　met　with　the　royal　salute　accorded　only　to　Cetewayo；　Mr。　Shepstone　and　the　Governor　of　Natal　—　in　itself　imposing　when　pronounced　by　a　great　number；　“Bayete；　Bayete！”
The　dance　then　menced　and　was　a　wonderful　performance。　pany　after　pany　charged　past　looking　for　all　the　world　like　great　fierce　birds　swooping　on　their　prey。　Assegais　extended　and　shields　on　high；　they　flitted　backwards　and　forwards；　acpanying　every　moment　with　a　shrill　hiss　something　like　the　noise　which　thousands　of　angry　snakes　would　make；　only　shriller；　a　sound　impossible　to　describe　but　not　easy　to　forget。　It　would　vary：　—　now　it　is　a　troop　of　lions；　now　a　pack　of　wild　dogs　hounding　their　prey　to　death。
Then　forth　leaped　warrior　after　warrior：　advanced；　challenged；　leapt　five　feet　into　the　air；　was　down；　was　up；　was　between　his　own　legs；　was　anywhere　and　everywhere；　and　was　met　with　this　sibilating　applause　which　rose　and　fell　and　rose　again；　but　always　in　perfect　time。
By　this　time　they　were　well　excited；　even　the　little　boys　of　the　tribe　had　got　shields　and　joined　themselves　on　at　the　end；　while　the　beauties；　and　some　of　them　were　not　unworthy　of　the　name；　took　hold　of　long　branches　and　went　undulating　about　（the　only　word　to　describe　their　motion）　urging　the　warriors　on。
Presently　forth　sprang　the　heir…apparent；　and　in　a　moment　the　air　was　filled　with　this　fierce　sibilation　and　every　warrior　roused　into　wild　activity。
It　was　a　splendidly　barbaric　sight。　The　singing　was　the　finest　part　of　it。　The　last　royal　salute　was　also　imposing；　it　is　made　by　striking　the　assegais　on　the　shield。　It　mences　with　a　low　murmur　like　that　of　the　sea；　growing　louder　and　louder　till　it　sounds　like　far…off　thunder；　and　ending　with　a　quick　sharp　rattle　。　。　。　。
In　a　letter　dated　July　6；　1876；　I　say：
。　。　。　I　stopped　three　days　in　Durban　and　enjoyed　the　change　very　much；　as　it　was　the　first　holiday　I　have　had　with　the　exception　of　a　week　when　I　was　sick。　。　。　。　There　is　somewhat　stirring　news　from　the　Transvaal　telling　of　the　first　skirmish　between　the　Boers　and　Secocoeni；　a　native　chief　of　very　considerable　power。　If　the　Boers　have　to　deal　with　him　alone　they　will　be　all　right；　though　there　will　very　likely　be　a　good　deal　of　bloodshed。　But　Secocoeni　is　a　tributary　of　and　allied　to　Cetewayo　the　Zulu　king；　who　has　of　late　been　on　the　worst　of　terms　with　the　Boers；　so　that　it　is　more　than　probable　that　he　and　his　thirty　thousand　armed　men　supposed　to　be　hovering　like　a　thunder…cloud　on　the　borders　of　Natal；　will　take　an　opportunity　to　have　a　shot　at　them　too：　if　he　doesn’t　he　is　a　greater　fool　than　“Cetewayo　the　Silent”　is　generally　supposed　to　be。
On　the　other　side　of　them；　too；　are　the　Amaswazi；　numerically　as　strong　as　the　Zulus　and　their　nominal　tributaries。　These　have　hitherto　been　friendly　with　the　Boers；　not　from　any　natural　affection　but　to　protect　themselves　from　the　Zulus　who　are　braver　and　more　warlike　than　they。　But　that　friendly　feeling　has　been　shaken　and　I　hear　that　the　Amaswazi　contingent　counted　on　by　the　Boers　to　help　them　in　the　Secocoeni　business　has　not　arrived。　If　they　patch　up　their　differences　with　the　Zulus　and　a　united　attack　is　made　by　this　threefold　power；　Lord　help　the　Dutch！　War　here　between　white　and　black　is　a　terrible　thing。　No　quarter　is　given　and　none　is　asked。　But　I　shall　know　more　about　the　business　tomorrow　when　the　Transvaal　mail　arrives　。　。　。　。
In　my　next　letter；　dated　6th　October；　I　talk　of　articles　which　I　am　writing；　and　add　in　a　solemn　postscript：　“Don’t　say　anything　to　anybody　about　my　having　written　things　in　magazines。”　Evidently　the　cacoethes　scribendi　had　already　taken　hold　of　me。　Also　I　say：
The　war　in　the　Transvaal　is　at　a　dead　stop　for　the　present。　The　Conference　in　London　seems　to　be　rather　a　lopsided　affair：　our　delegates　and　Brand　appear　to　be　settling　the　affairs　of　South　Africa　between　them。　I　am　delighted　to　see　that　they　have　given　Mr。　Shepstone　the　K。C。M。G。　It　is；　I　imagine；　rarely　so　well　deserved。　I　got　a　letter　from　him　the　other　day；　he　seems　very　pleased　with　England　generally。
From　the　next　surviving　letter；　dated　December　2；　1876；　I　gather　that　Sir　Henry　Bulwer　at　this　time　was　not　quite　pleased　at　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone’s　request　that　I　should　acpany　him　on　his　special　mission　to　the　Transvaal。　However；　ultimately　the　thing　was　arranged。　I　say：
He　＇i。e。　Shepstone＇　wants　me　to　e　with　him　for　two　reasons。　First；　we　are　very　good　friends　and　he　was　kind　enough　to　say　he　wished　to　have　me　as　a　panion。　Second；　I　imagine　there　will　be　a　good　deal　of　what　is　called　the　champagne　and　sherry　policy　up　at　Pretoria　and　he　wants　somebody　to　look　after　the　entertaining。　It　will　be　a　most　interesting　business。　。　。　。
This　seems　to　be　the　last　epistle　that　can　be　found　of　those　which　I　wrote　from　Natal；　so　I　will　return　to　my　manuscript；　which　now　continues　as　I　set　it　down　before　their　discovery。
At　Maritzburg　there　was　a　good　deal　of　gaiety　and　entertaining　at　Government　House；　with　which；　as　Sir　Henry　was　unmarried；　I　had　much　to　do。　In　connection　with　one　of　our　dinner…parties　I　remember　an　incident　which　shows　that　Sir　Henry　knew　how　to　escape　from　a　dilemma。　By　some　chance　there　had　been　invited　the　Roman　Catholic　bishop　（I　think　his　name　was　Jolivet）；　a　dean　of　the　Church　of　England；　and　a　very　shining　Nonconformist　ligh