CHAPTER XXXII
THE PASS OF THE QUATHLAMBA
Like wild beasts escaping from a pen, that red-eyed, gasping mob rushedand staggered to the edge of the water, and, plunging their heads intoit with hoarse grunts and cries, drank and drank and drank. Indeed,several lost their lives there, for some filled themselves so full thattheir vitals were ruptured, and some were thrust into the river by thecattle or those pressing behind them, to be carried away by the swiftstream.
Just at the mouth of the pass Suzanne, laden with the child, was pusheddown by those who followed, and doubtless would have been trampled todeath, had not one of Swart Piet's men, desiring to clear the way, or,perhaps, moved to pity at her plight, dragged her to her feet again. Butwhen he had done this he did not let her go, but held her, staring ather beauty with greedy eyes.
"Here is a rock-rabbit whom I shall keep for a wife," he cried. "I wouldrather take her than twenty fat oxen."
Now Suzanne's heart nearly stood still with terror.
"Water, water," she moaned; "let me drink, I pray you."
"Do not fear, I will take you to drink, my pretty," went on the man,still staring at her.
Then, losing command of herself, Suzanne screamed and struggled, andthe sound of her cries reached the ears of Swart Piet, who was standingclose at hand.
"What is this?" he asked of the man.
"Nothing, Bull-Head, except that I have taken a woman whom I wish for awife because she is so fair."
Van Vooren let his eyes rest upon her, but dreamily, for all histhoughts were given to her who sat aloft five hundred feet above hishead, and, feeling their glance, Suzanne's blood froze in her veins.
"Yes, she is fair," he answered, "but she is a married woman, and I willhave no Umpondwana brats among my people. Let her go, and take a girlif you will." For Van Vooren did not wish that the few men who remainedwith him should cumber themselves just then with women and children,since they were needed to look after the cattle.
"Maid or wife, I choose this one and no other," said the man sulkily.
Then Black Piet, whose sullen temper could not brook to be crossed,broke into a blaze of rage.
"Do you dare to disobey me?" he shouted with an awful Kaffir oath. "Lether go, dog, or I will kill you."
At this the man, who knew his master, loosed hold of Suzanne, who ranaway, though it was not until she reached the water that she noticed awhite ring round her arm, where his grip had rubbed the paint off theskin beneath. Strangely enough Van Vooren saw the ring, and at thatdistance mistook it for an ivory ornament such as Kaffir women oftenwear above the elbow. Still more strangely its white colour made himthink again of the white woman who sat aloft yonder, and he turned hisface upwards, forgetting all about the black girl with the child.
Thrusting herself through the crowd, Suzanne ran on for a while till shewas clear of the worst of it, then terrified though she was, she couldresist the temptation of the water no longer, for her mouth and throatfelt dry and rough. Climbing down to the edge of the river she drankgreedily under the shelter of a rock, and when she had satisfied someof her thirst, she poured water into the mouth of the child, dippingits shrunken little body into the stream, whereon it seemed to increasebefore her eyes like a dry sponge that is left out in the rain.
While she tended the child thus, and just as it began to find its sensesand to wail feebly, she chanced to look up, and to her terror saw thatman from whom she had escaped walking along the bank looking for her.Happy was it for Suzanne that the rock under which she was crouched hidher, for the man stood for thirty seconds or more within two paces, sothat she was obliged to plunge the body of the boy under water to stifleits crying.
Then, as it happened, the Kaffir caught sight of another woman andinfant, more than a hundred yards away, and ran off towards them.Thereon Suzanne, replacing the half-choked child upon her back, climbedthe bank, hiding the white mark upon her arm beneath the blanket, andtaking such shelter as she could behind stones or cattle, or knots ofpeople who, their thirst appeased, were hastening to escape, she slippedacross the shoulder of the slope.
Now she was out of sight of Swart Piet and his men, and for the firsttime for many a day began to breathe freely. For a while she crepton round the flank of the mountain, then at the best of her speed shestruck across the plain straight for the saw-edged rock ten miles away,which marked the entrance to the pass over the Quathlamba range.
From time to time Suzanne looked behind her, but none followed her, nor,search as she would, could she discover any trace of Zinti, who, shebegan to fear, must have come to some harm. One thing she could see,however--the whitened corpse set on high in the chair of rock, and bythe side of it a black dot that she knew to be Sihamba. Twice she turnedround and gazed at it, but the second time the dot had become almostimperceptible, although it still was there. Long and earnestly shelooked, sending her farewell through space to that true friend anddeliverer whose eyes, as she knew well, watched her flight and whoseheart went with her.
Then she travelled on sadly, wondering what was that plan of escape ofwhich Sihamba had spoken, and why it was that she stood there by thecorpse and did not put it into practice, wondering also when they shouldmeet again and where. A third time she turned, and now the dead womanon the rock was but as a tiny point of white, and now it had altogethervanished away.
After this Suzanne halted no more, but pressed on steadily towards thesaw-edged spur, which she reached about twelve o'clock, for the grasswas so tall, the untrodden veldt so rough, and the sun so hot that, weakas she felt with grief and the effects of thirst, and laden with a heavychild, her progress was very slow. At length, however, she stood gaspingin its shadow, gazing dismayed at the huge range of mountains before herand the steep rough cliffs up which she must climb.
"Never shall I cross them without foot and weighted with this child, sothe end of it will be that I must die after all," thought Suzanne as shesank down by the banks of a little rivulet, resting her swollen feet inits cool stream, for then, and indeed for weeks after, it seemed toher that she could never have enough of the taste and smell and feel ofwater.
As she sat thus, striving to still the wailing of the hungry boy,suddenly the shadow of a man fell upon her. With a cry she sprang to herfeet to find herself face to face with Zinti.
"Oh! I thought that they had taken you," she exclaimed.
"No, lady, I escaped, but I crossed the plain far to your left, for itseemed better that we should not be seen travelling together from themountain. Now let us eat who have eaten little for so many days, lackingwater to wash down the food," and from the large skin wallet which hebore Zinti drew out dried flesh and roasted corn.
Suzanne looked at the food with longing, but before she touched anyshe took some corn, and having pounded it into a pulp with a stone, shemixed it with water and fed the child, who devoured the stuff greedilyand presently fell asleep. Then they ate as much as they wanted, sinceZinti carried enough for three such meals, and never did Suzanne takemeat with a greater relish. Afterwards, though she yearned to sleep,they pressed on again, for Zinti said it was not safe to stay, sincelong before this Van Vooren would be seeking her far and wide, and if hechanced to discover the secret of her flight he would travel furtherin one hour on horseback than they could in four on foot. So they wentforward up the pass much refreshed, Zinti carrying the child.
All day long they walked thus, resting at intervals, till by sunsetthey reached the crest of the pass, and saw the wide plains of Natalstretched out like a map beneath them, and on them, not so very faraway and near to the banks of the river that wound at their feet, awhite-topped koppie, beneath which, said Zinti, was the Boer camp.
Suzanne sat down and looked, and there, yes, there the caps of thewaggons gleamed in the fading light; and oh! her heart leapt at thesight of them, for in those waggons were white men and women such as shehad not seen for years, and with whom at length she would be safe. Buteven as her breast heaved at the thought of it, an icy, unnatural
windseemed to stir her hair, and of a sudden she felt, or seemed to feel,the presence of Sihamba. For a moment, and one only, it was with her,then it was gone, nor during all her life did it ever come back again.
"Oh! Sihamba is dead!" she cried.
Zinti looked at her in question.
"It may well be so," he said sadly, "but I pray that it is not so, forshe is the best of chieftainesses. At least we have our own lives tosave, so let us go on," and again they pressed forward through thegathering gloom.
Soon it grew dark, and had her guide been any other man than ZintiSuzanne must have stopped where she was till the moon rose at midnight.But Zinti could find any path that his feet had trod even in the dark;yes, although it ran through piled-up rocks on the mountain side, andwas cut with the course of streams which must be forded.
In wading through one of these rivulets, Suzanne struck her bare ankleagainst a stone and lamed herself, so that from this time forward,shivering and wet with water, for her hurt was so sharp and sudden thatshe had fallen in the stream, she was forced to walk leaning on Zinti'sshoulder, and indeed over some rough places he was obliged to carry her.Now again Zinti wished to abandon that heavy child, for strong though hewas the weight of the two of them proved almost more than he could bear,but Suzanne would not listen to him.
"Nay," she said, "this child that was sent to me by Heaven has saved mefrom shame and death, and shame and death be my portion if I will leaveit while I live. Go on alone if you will, Zinti, and I will stay herewith the child."
"Truly white people are strange," answered Zinti, "that they should wishto burden themselves with the child of another when their own lives areat stake, but be it as you will, lady," and he struggled forward as besthe could, carrying the one and supporting the other.
Thus for hour after hour, slowly they crept onward with only the starsto light and guide them, till at length about midnight the moon rose andthey saw that they were near the foot of the mountain. Now they restedawhile, but not long enough to grow stiff, then hastening down the slopethey reached the plain, and headed for the white-topped koppie whichshone in the moonlight some six miles away. On they crept, Suzanne nowlimping painfully, for her ankle had begun to swell, and now crawlingupon her hands and knees, for Zinti had no longer the strength to carryher and the child. Thus they covered three miles in perhaps as manyhours. At last, with something like a sob, Suzanne sank to the earth.
"Zinti, I can walk no more," she said. "Either I must rest or die."
He looked at her and saw that she spoke truth, for she was quiteoutworn.
"Is it so?" he said, "then we must stay here till the morning, nor do Ithink that you will take hurt, for Bull-Head will scarcely care to crossthat pass by night."
Suzanne shook her head and answered:
"He will have begun to climb it at the rising of the moon. Hear me,Zinti. The Boer camp is close and you still have some strength left;take the child and go to it, and having gained an entrance in this wayor in that tell them my plight and they will ride out and save me."
"That is a good thought," he said; "but, lady, I do not like to leaveyou alone, since here there is no place for you to hide."
"You could not help me if you stayed, Zinti, therefore go, for thesooner you are gone, the sooner I shall be rescued."
"I hear your command, lady," he answered, and having given her most ofthe food that was left, he fastened the sleeping child upon his shoulderand walked forward up the rise.
In something less than an hour Zinti came to the camp, which was formedof unlaagered waggons and tents pitched at the foot of a koppie, alongone base of which ran the river. About fifty yards in front of the campstood a single buck-waggon, and near to it sill glowed the embers of acooking-fire.
"Now if I try to pass that waggon those who watch by it will shoot atme," thought Zinti, though, indeed, he need have had no fear, for theywere but camp-Kaffirs who slept soundly.
Not knowing this, however, he stood at a distance and called aloud, tillat last a Hottentot crept out with a gun, and, throwing back the blanketfrom his head, asked who he was and what he wanted.
"I want to see the Baas of the camp," he answered, "for my mistress, awhite woman, lies exhausted upon the veldt not far away and seeks hishelp."
"If you want to see the Baas," yawned the man, "you must wait tilldaylight when he wakes up."
"I cannot wait," answered Zinti, and he made as though to pass towardsthe camp, whereupon the man raised his gun and covered him, saying:
"If you go on I will shoot you, for stray Kaffir dogs are not allowed toprowl about the camp at night."
"What then must I do?" asked Zinti.
"You can go away, or if you will you may sit by the waggon here till itis light, and then when the Boers, my masters, wake up you can tell yourstory, of which I believe nothing."
So, having no choice, Zinti sat down by the waggon and waited, while theman with the gun watched him, pretending to be asleep all the while.