Wilton Hazzard

“ De Cabral's face showed white about his jaws and Turcan knew that he was looking at death.
"We have come to the bridge that only one of us may cross, senhor." De Cabral's voice was vibrant. "You will stay on this side."
TURCAN did not answer for a moment. His face was expressionless but his pulse raced and the blood pounded in his ears. Impulse prompted him to fling himself upon de Cabral; to gamble on a miss. But a picture of the headless vultures at Umzinto flashed before his eyes. The fleeting seconds were like a bridge across oblivion, crumbling at his feet. ”

“ Senhor Turcan, my niece has been abducted; she has vanished like—like a puff of smoke. The holy Saints know how and where!"
INES DA CUNHA—Turcan's cheeks burned as the significance of de Cabral's words rubbed salt into his still raw memory of the girl. As he saw her now she was a coquette with seductive lines and dazzling eyes. She had accompanied her uncle on safaris that Turcan had organized and led. No man with red blood in his veins could share the easy companionship of the camp with her and come out unscathed. Turcan had not. ”

“ Umbesi hung his head and stood silent.
"Go now," said Turcan. "Make your men ready. See to it that they are silent when we come to the slave camp or I, too, will think that you are too young to wear the leopard-skin."
The light was better in the morning. The mist which had overcast the sky turned into a nimbus of clouds. Umbesi led the way back along the trail broken by Bosigo's impi. His Zamaros dogged his heels, gliding swiftly between the gnarled mopani and spiked clumpjies. The lowing of cattle and the thin spirals of smoke from dying fires warned of their near approach to the herd. ”

“ Perhaps no more than a few hundred yards separated him from the girl who, during the long trek through the jungle, had come to sweeten the day-dreams from which he had sought to banish her.
Turcan's eyes swept over the swift river. He thought of swimming it to reconnoitre the camp. But he could think of no disguise that could make an African out of a white man. Discovery would be certain. After a while he beckoned Umbesi to him. As the young chief squatted beside him he said: "There are many cattle yonder, Umbesi. It is a pity that they should fill the bellies of Bosigo's warriors. ”

“ De Cabral was the first to speak: "Mother of—!" he swore. "Could she be among that carrion?"
Turcan winced. For him a man was a man, alive or dead; black or white. It flashed through his mind that Ines de Cunha would not be carrion—no, the fact that Lopes le Costa Cabral loved her, made her more than mortal flesh. His eyes flashed with anger, then a vision of Ines da Cunha as he had last seen her, smiling, vividly alive, rose before his eyes. ”

“ It was the drum—always at sunset it started. It sounds hollow like a voice from a tomb. Alamagtag, my boys went mad with fear, I tell you!"
"Did you hear it tonight, Piet?"
"No, no!" cried the boy wildly. "I am not sick! It is not an ordinary drum—I know drums. Was I not born among the Zulus? You did not hear it because it has done its work. It called my boys away; called each by name, I tell you!"
"Sure it did!" said Corby soothingly. His Makua canoe-boys were coming back up the trail, urged to it by Maryanne's cane. Several of them were staring at Dervoort with big, curious eyes. ”

“ De Cabral laughed softly. "You have always under-estimated me, Turcan. I do not intend to kill you and be hanged for murder. Bosigo will do the killing when I take you back."
"And the Senhorita da Cunha?" Turcan asked.
"A naked white woman in the jungle—she will not go far. Later, when I have made my escape from Bosigo, I will find her. A delightful discovery, eh, senhor?" He said it in a way that made Turcan bristle. But the muzzle of his colt was steady. De Cabral leered at him. "I owe much to your cleverness, but now I have no further need of it. Start walking back up the path, senhor." ”

“ She made her way swiftly, gliding from shadow to shadow, sometimes crawling where the moonlight cut a swath of soft light between the huts or silhouetted the statuesque form of a Makua guard.
A guard had been placed over Turcan; but his charge was deep in the sleep of near-exhaustion. With the natural slackness of his kind, he had wandered over to a nearby fire, drawn there by the savory smell of roasting buck and the laughter of his companions. The girl slipped through the hut's small opening and groped her way toward Turcan, guided by his deep breathing. ”

“ Say now, if you are killed today, or tomorrow, would the Makuas be wrong if they said: 'The drum called him and he could not stay?' "
Corby knocked the ashes from his pipe and rose: "We're out after the drummer because it's our job to keep trade moving in these parts, Piet," said he with a scowl. "Besides, there's damn little else we can do until we get canoes and boys to paddle them!"
"Truly!" muttered Dervoort as Maryanne helped him to shoulder his pack. "There is nothing we can do. The wizards have turned their trick!" ”

“ How was it that one so wise could not understand that the soul of an enemy slain, might take up its abode in the body of another man, or in that of a jungle beast, the better to wreck its vengeance?
"Bwana," he began. "Drums cannot speak with the same voice no more than people can—"
"That's true, Maryanne."
"It's also true that no Makua would dare to beat the drum of a chief so powerful as Gungunhana—"
"Ha!" Dervoort, who had been watching Corby's face, interposed with the triumphant note of the vindicated. "Wat dink jy daarvan?" ”

“ Bosigo will see them. He will follow them to learn the meaning of it. He will send a runner back to the herdsmen to tell them to break camp and follow him. But we will be between Bosigo and the herd. We will catch the runner. The herdsmen will not know that Bosigo is marching, and when the gap between them and Bosigo is wide, we will strike. Is it good, Umbesi?"
"Oh, it is good—good!" Umbesi stamped the ground in his excitement. "The indunas will not whisper among themselves; saying that I am too young for the leopard-skin."
Turcan patted his shoulder: "Go, show them your wisdom!" ”

“ He paused, looking down upon the body of a dead Makua, apparently the only loss suffered by the raiding impi. The warrior had died of strangulation; strong hands had throttled the life out of him. Turcan thought of Father Furtado, the powerful chaplain of the station. His eyes scanned the ground.
A TRAIL like that made by a body dragged over the ground, led them toward the pool. A white-robed figure lay face down among the reeds at the margin of the pond, its lower half submerged in the water. Turcan dropped on his knees beside the body. Blood had soaked through the white habit. ”

“ No white man in Gazaland was treated with more diffidence by the Makuas than he was. That was due to an accident of war; to the fact that the butt of his rifle had felled Gungunhana. But he had come to think of it as his due, nevertheless. It was prestige that made his work possible and his work was his life.
Though nothing of it showed on his hard, lined face, Corby was thoroughly roused and he was worried. He knew that Dervoort had stated the native viewpoint correctly. If anything happened to him, the Makuas would say that Gungunhana's ghost had called him to account. ”

“ Corby was startled. "Why the devil should we do that?"
"Because if we do not, there will be no Makuas and no canoes in the morning, Senhor."
"Well, I'll be damned—the drum, eh, Piet? Well, don't worry about it. The kind of experience you've just been through can leave a man with very vivid impressions."
Dervoort colored: "I do not imagine things," said he. "And I will bet a month's pay that you hear the drum tonight!"
"I'll take your money!" Corby laughed. "And just to put your mind at rest, I'll have Maryanne lock the boys in their quarters tonight." ”

“ Corby looked out across the river whence the sound had come. What should a man think when a drum, silent for ten years, boomed out a challenge from the grave? According to his emotional bias, he supposed. Just as it was natural for Maryanne and Dervoort, who had some Zulu blood in his veins, to think of witchcraft, it was natural for him to think in terms of flesh and blood, from the effect to the cause.
"A man who is not a Makua is beating that drum," said he. "Fact is, Piet, the drum has stopped trading at your post and it's our job to stop the drum. ”

“ Corby stripped off his jacket, threw it over the tiny creature and smothered it. He looked up at Dervoort: "There's a chance, if you want to take it, Piet."
The light of hope was in Dervoort's eyes and he laughed: "Less than a chance is good enough for us, my friend. Already we should be as dead as the monkey!"
A few moments' groans and cries of mortal agony came from the hut. The two Makua guards, squatting before a fire that burned close to the hut, sprang to their feet and stared at each other, their rolling eyes showing white in the darkness. They waited until all was quiet within. ”

“ Turcan nodded assent: "It looks like a fair-sized kraal. They could muster three or four hundred warriors. That means Bosigo's in strength."
"True, or he would not have attacked," de Cabral agreed. "And now we approach the end of our trek; I wonder what two men can do against an impi!"
Turcan smiled. "It's too late to think of that," said he. "We won't do anything the impi knows about, that's sure."
De Cabral looked at him curiously. "You have a plan, senhor?"
Turcan shook his head. "We'll go down to the kraal. If there's anyone alive we may learn something." ”

“ There was no broadening of the trail that approached it and no man came out to greet them, which was an insult if it was not indicative of open hostility.
"The devil!" swore Dervoort and unslung his rifle. "We might be lepers."
"We are worse!" said Maryanne, looking gloomily at the deserted hut. "They know a ju-ju curse is upon us. Put up your rifle, Sar, no man will hinder us."
"Keep your rifle handy and keep moving!" Corby barked at him. ”

“ But he counted only twelve Makua squatting about the fires. Against the bush wall on the far side thirty or more blacks, men and women, lay huddled together in sleep. The women were fully clad, a sure sign of missionary influence and Turcan had no doubt that they were the singers he had heard the night before. Was Ines da Cunha among them? Turcan's pulse quickened. If his luck was still with him, he'd have her safe on the other side of the river in less than two hours. Then the military could deal with Bosigo and his impi. ”

“ He will grow strong on the meat."
Umbesi grunted: "Some of our cattle are among the herd, lord."
"If I were with Bosigo yonder," Turcan continued, "And you were with the cattle, Umbesi, could I see you?"
Umbesi laughed: "No, lord, a man could not see so far through the trees."
"True, Umbesi. And it is also true that if twenty warriors swam the river they could drive the cattle back to the ford and Bosigo would not see it."
The young chief sprang to his feet: "We would be swift and silent. He could not hear us!"
Turcan smiled: "We will make sure that he does not. You will gather your people. ”

“ Dervoort beckoned to the girl and they started off down the trail toward the river. Corby watched them until the white of the girl's robe was lost in the gloom.
He gave Mejid a prod with the barrel of his rifle.
"Move fast, you bag of wind and corruption!" he ordered.
THEY CROSSED the gorge to its opposite wall. Mejid led the way up a steep, narrow trail. They came to a cave, the mouth of which was screened by flowering vines that fell over the cliff like a curtain of scarlet and green. Close to the entrance stood Gungunhana's drum. ”

“ Corby wiped the sweat from his face as: he said slowly: "Well, the fellow that's beating that drum has got more on his mind than killing us just yet, I think."
"You think he wants you alive?"
"I've got it figured that way," Corby murmured.
Dervoort did not answer for a moment, but stood looking up the trail ahead, his handsome face set in hard lines.
"Shoot it out with them," said Dervoort. "A Makua and a Zulu is the same thing. I have seen men die slowly. Look!" ”

“ Dervoort's mouth set stubbornly: "I can see how a message on the drum will lay Gungunhana's ghost. Yes, it will stop the war talk along the river. But I do not see how you are going to get away from Sala and the Makuas back there."
"Hell!" exploded Corby. "I've told you. According to Mejid, he hasn't got more than twenty of his own men. That means the rest are your own boys and mine. I'll swing 'em over to me all right. All I've got to worry about is Sala. ”

“ They found a path on the opposite bank and followed it until they could see the flag-pole at Mahango on the hill above the trees. Corby called a halt:
"It's about sunset," said he. "We'll get our direction from the drum."
Dervoort nodded and Maryanne started a fire for the evening meal.
Again at, the exact moment of sunset, the call reverberated over the jungle. In spite of himself, Corby felt the hair on his spine bristle. It was the silence that followed it, that would get under a man's skin in time. But the jungle was always silent for a brief moment at sunset. ”

“ Ines da Cunha is his safe conduct to wherever he's going. She's as good as a grant to settle wherever he pleases in Mozambique."
De Cabral was gazing into the fire, a frown between his eyes: "Yes," he said slowly. "It does fit together. He sent one of his Makuas to attack you because he knew your reputation and was afraid." He spread his hands. "But how could he know of your coming?"
Turcan shrugged. "A house-boy at the Residency maybe. They get to know more than most Whites suspect."
De Cabral's smile was sardonic. "It is gratifying to know that you do not lay the fault at my feet, senhor." ”