Child of Storm

We reached my wagons in the early morning of the following day, bringing

with us the cattle and our wounded. Thus encumbered it was a most

toilsome march, and an anxious one also, for it was always possible that

the remnant of the Amakoba might attempt pursuit. This, however, they

did not do, for very many of them were dead or wounded, and those who

remained had no heart left in them. They went back to their mountain

home and lived there in shame and wretchedness, for I do not believe

there were fifty head of cattle left among the tribe, and Kafirs without

cattle are nothing. Still, they did not starve, since there were plenty

of women to work the fields, and we had not touched their corn. The

end of them was that Panda gave them to their conqueror, Saduko, and he

incorporated them with the Amangwane. But that did not happen until some

time afterwards.

When we had rested a while at the wagons the captured beasts were

mustered, and on being counted were found to number a little over twelve

hundred head, not reckoning animals that had been badly hurt in the

flight, which we killed for beef. It was a noble prize, truly, and,

notwithstanding the wound in his thigh, which hurt him a good deal now

that it had stiffened, Saduko stood up and surveyed them with glistening

eyes. No wonder, for he who had been so poor was now rich, and would

remain so even after he had paid over whatever number of cows Umbezi

chose to demand as the price of Mameena's hand. Moreover, he was sure,

and I shared his confidence, that in these changed circumstances both

that young woman and her father would look upon his suit with very

favourable eyes. He had, so to speak, succeeded to the title and the

family estates by means of a lawsuit brought in the "Court of the

Assegai," and therefore there was hardly a father in Zululand who would

shut his kraal gate upon him. We forgot, both of us, the proverb that

points out how numerous are the slips between the cup and the lip,

which, by the way, is one that has its Zulu equivalents. One of them, if

I remember right at the moment, is: "However loud the hen cackles, the

housewife does not always get the egg."

As it chanced, although Saduko's hen was cackling very loudly just at

this time, he was not destined to find the coveted egg. But of that

matter I will speak in its place.

I, too, looked at those cattle, wondering whether Saduko would remember

our bargain, under which some six hundred head of them belonged to me.

Six hundred head! Why, putting them at £5 apiece all round--and as oxen

were very scarce just at that time, they were worth quite as much, if

not more--that meant £3,000, a larger sum of money than I had ever owned

at one time in all my life. Truly the paths of violence were profitable!

But would he remember? On the whole I thought probably not, since Kafirs

are not fond of parting with cattle.