Zulu (African people) -- Fiction; Zululand (South Africa) -- History -- Fiction
Now Rachel’s heart sank in her, for it might well be that a trick had
been played on her, and that this was true. Or perhaps this tale of
Noie’s death was but a trap to test her powers; moreover, it was not
likely that the King, who had promised that she should live, would dare
to break his word to one whom he believed or half-believed to be a
spirit.
For a moment she thought; then, after her nature, determined to be bold
and hazard all upon a throw. Therefore she did not argue or reproach,
but said:
“She is not dead. I have questioned every spear in Zululand, and none
of them is red with her blood.”
“Thou art right,” he answered; “the spears are clean. She died in the
river.”
Now Rachel was sure, and answered in her clear voice:
“I have questioned the waters, and I have questioned the crocodiles,
and they answer that Noie has passed them safely.”
“Thou art right, White One. She died by a rope in yonder huts.”
Now Rachel looked at the huts and cried:
“Noie, I hear thee, I see thee, I smell thee out. Come forth, Noie.”
The King and his councillors stared at her, whispering to one another,
and before ever they had done their whisperings out from among the
gloom of the huts crept Noie.
To Rachel she crept, taking no heed even of the King, and crouching
down in the faint shadow of her that the moonlight threw, she flung her
arms about her knees and pressed her forehead on her feet. Now Rachel’s
heart bounded with joy at the sight of her, and she longed to bend down
and kiss her, but did not, lest her great dignity should be lessened in
the eyes of the King; only she said:
“I greet you, Noie; be seated in my shadow, where you are safe, and
tell me, have these men dealt well by you?”
“Not so ill, Inkosazana, that is since I reached the Great Kraal. But
one of them, he who sits yonder,” and she pointed to a certain induna,
“struck me on the journey, and took away my food.”
Now Rachel looked at the man angrily, playing with the little wand in
her hand, whereon this induna shivered with terror, fearing lest she
should point it at him. Rising, he came to Rachel and flung himself
down before her.
“What have you to say,” asked Rachel, “you who have dared to strike my
servant?”
“Inkosazana,” he mumbled, “the maid was obstinate, and tried to run
away, and our orders were to bring her to the King. Spare my life, I
pray thee.”
“King,” said Rachel, “I have power over this man, have I not?”
“It is so,” answered Dingaan. “Kill him if thou wilt.”
Rachel seemed to consider while the poor wretch, with chattering teeth,
implored her to forgive. Then she turned to Noie, saying:
“He struck you, not me. I give him to you to do by as you will. Shall
he sleep to-night with the living or the dead?”
Noie looked at him, and next at a mark on her arm, and the induna,
ceasing from his prayers to Rachel, clutched Noie by the ankle, and
begged her mercy.
“Your life has been given to you,” he said, “give mine to me, lest
ill-fortune follow you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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