One evening Mameena came to me in a great rage, and said that she could bear her present life no longer. Presuming on her rank and position as head-wife, Nandie treated her like a servant--nay, like a little dog, to be beaten with a stick. She wished that Nandie would die.
"It will be very unlucky for you if she does," I answered, "for then, perhaps, Zikali will be summoned to look into the matter, as he was before."
What was she to do, she went on, ignoring my remark.
"Eat the porridge that you have made in your own pot, or break the pot"
(i.e. go away), I suggested. "There was no need for you to marry Saduko, any more than there was for you to marry Masapo."
"How can you talk to me like that, Macumazahn," she answered, stamping her foot, "when you know well it is your fault if I married anyone?
Piff! I hate them all, and, since my father would only beat me if I took my troubles to him, I will run off, and live in the wilderness alone and become a witch-doctoress."
"I am afraid you will find it very dull, Mameena," I began in a bantering tone, for, to tell the truth, I did not think it wise to show her too much sympathy while she was so excited.
Mameena never waited for the end of the sentence, but, sobbing out that I was false and cruel, she turned and departed swiftly. Oh! little did I foresee how and where we should meet again.
Next morning I was awakened shortly after sunrise by Scowl, whom I had sent out with another man the night before to look for a lost ox.
"Well, have you found the ox?" I asked.
"Yes, Baas; but I did not waken you to tell you that. I have a message for you, Baas, from Mameena, wife of Saduko, whom I met about four hours ago upon the plain yonder."
I bade him set it out.
These were the words of Mameena, Baas: 'Say to Macumazahn, your master, that Indhlovu-ene-sihlonti, taking pity on my wrongs and loving me with his heart, has offered to take me into his House and that I have accepted his offer, since I think it better to become the Inkosazana of the Zulus, as I shall one day, than to remain a servant in the house of Nandie. Say to Macumazahn that when Saduko returns he is to tell him that this is all his fault, since if he had kept Nandie in her place I would have died rather than leave him. Let him say to Saduko also that, although from henceforth we can be no more than friends, my heart is still tender towards him, and that by day and by night I will strive to water his greatness, so that it may grow into a tree that shall shade the land. Let Macumazahn bid him not to be angry with me, since what I do I do for his good, as he would have found no happiness while Nandie and I dwelt in one house. Above all, also let him not be angry with the Prince, who loves him more than any man, and does but travel whither the wind that I breathe blows him. Bid Macumazahn think of me kindly, as I shall of him while my eyes are open.'"
I listened to this amazing message in silence, then asked if Mameena was alone.
"No, Baas; Umbelazi and some soldiers were with her, but they did not hear her words, for she stepped aside to speak with me. Then she returned to them, and they walked away swiftly, and were swallowed up in the night."
"Very good, Sikauli," I said. "Make me some coffee, and make it strong."
I dressed and drank several cups of the coffee, all the while "thinking with my head," as the Zulus say. Then I walked up to the kraal to see Umbezi, whom I found just coming out of his hut, yawning.
"Why do you look so black upon this beautiful morning, Macumazahn?" asked the genial old scamp. "Have you lost your best cow, or what?"
"No, my friend," I answered; "but you and another have lost your best cow." And word for word I repeated to him Mameena's message. When I had finished really I thought that Umbezi was about to faint.
"Curses be on the head of this Mameena!" he exclaimed. "Surely some evil spirit must have been her father, not I, and well was she called Child of Storm.* What shall I do now, Macumazahn? Thanks be to my Spirit," he added, with an air of relief, "she is too far gone for me to try to catch her; also, if I did, Umbelazi and his soldiers would kill me."
[*--That, if I have not said so already, was the meaning which the Zulus gave to the word "Mameena", although as I know the language I cannot get any such interpretation out of the name, I believe that it was given to her, however, because she was born just before a terrible tempest, when the wind wailing round the but made a sound like the word "Ma-mee-na".
--A. Q.]
"And what will Saduko do if you don't?" I asked.
"Oh, of course he will be angry, for no doubt he is fond of her. But, after all, I am used to that. You remember how he went mad when she married Masapo. At least, he cannot say that I made her run away with Umbelazi. After all, it is a matter which they must settle between them."
"I think it may mean great trouble," I said, "at a time when trouble is not needed."
"Oh, why so, Macumazahn? My daughter did not get on with the Princess Nandie--we could all see that--for they would scarcely speak to each other. And if Saduko is fond of her--well, after all, there are other beautiful women in Zululand. I know one or two of them myself whom I will mention to Saduko--or rather to Nandie. Really, as things were, I am not sure but that he is well rid of her."
"But what do you think of the matter as her father?" I asked, for I wanted to see to what length his accommodating morality would stretch.
"As her father--well, of course, Macumazahn, as her father I am sorry, because it will mean talk, will it not, as the Masapo business did?
