English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
A long, deep-drawn, hissing breath, and again that brooding silence,
while the moonlight played for an instant on the silver tongue waiting
in the mesmerised space for its brief repast. Along a knotted, spikey
branch Pietris Vanhiever crouched, grasping in his hand a naked,
long-bladed knife; his sinewy arm, on which the dark swollen veins
stood out like cords, was stretched so as to give full play to a swift
and sudden blow. His teeth bared in hungry expectation, every nerve
strained in eager listening, he waited for the fulfilment of his vow,
and the satisfaction of that passion of jealousy, which, after his two
days of absolute bodily starvation, dominated his half-caste being to
the extinction of every other feeling.
Presently there came within the ken of his hungry spirit a muffled
regular sound drawing rapidly nearer--without doubt the footfall of a
horse on the soft sand. His black eyes gleamed under their heavy brows
with a sombre fire, and gripping the branch more closely, he swung his
arm once, twice, backwards and downwards, then drew it close to the
branch again and waited.
‘Loppety, loppety, loppety’ came the swing of that peculiar
three-legged canter that was steadily and virtuously making for the
Englishman the first stage of that route that should put his little
girl--his own property--for ever out of the reach of such swine as
Pietris Vanhiever.
‘That _he_, forsooth--_he_--good Lord! it’s almost comic--certainly
quite impossible!--Yes, this big _Kopje’s_ the first landmark--shall
see the camp fire from the other side--unless the lazy hogs have let it
out--hallo’....
The silent scream of the thirsty knife backwards and downwards, the
hollow groan, the soft thump of the body on the sand, the frightened
snort and sudden wheeling of the riderless horse, the hiss and dart of
the destroyer on his prey--these things are written in the dumb records
of the giant and changeless tree.
The sound of the grey’s hoofs fleeing back in the direction from whence
he had come had faded away before Pietris raised himself from the body
of his enemy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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