Текст книги "Leopard Hunts in Darkness"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

Соавторы: Wilbur Smith
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On the cab, Tungata fired a last burst with the heavy machine-gun.

The first three par as were down, their green parachutes rolling softly in front of the light breeze, and Tungata's bullets kicked dust amongst them. Craig saw one of the par as fall and drag away loose and lifeless on his shrouds. Craig grabbed the AK 47 and the bag of spare ammunition and shouted, "Let's go, Sam. Let's go!" They ran to the Cessna, and Tungata, weak and sick, fell at the steps, and Craig had to drag him to his feet and shove him up.

Sally-Anne let go d-te brakes before Tungata was aboard, and Craig ran beside the Cessna as it gathered speed.

Tungata fell into the back seat beside Sarah, and Craig jumped up and got a hold. Though he was hampered by the AK rifle and bag, he dragged himself into the front seat beside Sally-Anne.

"Get the door closed!" Sally' Anne screamed, without looking at him, all her attention on the strip ahead. The dangling seat-belt was jammed in the door and Craig wrestled with it as they built up to rotation speed. Craig managed to extricate the strap and slam the door closed.

When he looked up, he saw paratroopers sprinting forward from the edge of the strip to intercept the Cessna.

It did not need the shiny general's star on the front of his helmet to identify Peter Fungabera. The set of his shoulders, the way he carried his head, and the fluid catlike grace of his run were all distinctive. His men were spread out be hind him they were almost directly ahead of the Cessna, only four or five hundred paces ahead.

Sally-Anne rotated and the Cessna lifted its nose, bounced lightly and became airborne. Peter Fungabera and his line of paratroopers disappeared from view under the nose and engine section as the Cessna climbed away, but the aircraft would have to pass directly over the top of their heads at little more than a few hundred feet.

"Oh mother!" Sally-Anne spoke in almost conversational tones. "This is id" And as she said-it, the instrument panel in front of Craig exploded, covering him with fine chips of glass like sugar crystals. Hydraulic fluid sprayed over the front of his shirt.

Machine-gun fire came in through the floor of the cabin and tore out through the thin metal roof so that the interior was filled with a gale of swirling wind as the slipstream found the holes.

In the back seat,. Sarah cried out, and the body of the machine was racked and jarred by the storm of AK 47 bullets. Craig felt the seat under him jump as bullets smacked into the metal frame. jagged punctures appeared miraculously in the wing roots just outside his window.

Sally-Anne shoved the control wheel forward and the Cessna dived back towards the airstrip again with a gut swooping rush, ducking under the maelstrom of machine-gun fire and giving them a moment's respite. The brown earth came up at them, and Sally-Anne caught the Cessna's suicidal dive and held it off, but the wheels hit the surface and they bounced wildly thirty feet back into the air. Craig saw two paratroopers dive to the side as the plane raced towards them.

The wild dive towards the earth had pushed their speed way up, so that Sally-Anne could instantly throw the Cessna into a maximum rate turn, the port wingtip brushing the earth. Her face was contorted and the muscle stood proud in her forearms with the effort of holding the Cessna's nose up in the turn and preventing her from going in. Ahead of them on the left-hand side of the airstrip, only a hundred yards or so from the verge, stood a single tree with dense, widespread branches.

It was a morula, ninety feet tall.

Sally-Anne levelled out for an instant and flew for the morula, her wingt* almost touched its outermost branches, and y immediately she threw the Cessna into an opposite turn, neatly placing the tree between them and the line of paratroopers on the airstrip behind them.

She kept at ground level, her undercarriage brushing the tops of the maize plants in the open fields, glancing up in the rear-view mirror above her head to keep the morula tree exactly behind the Cessna's tail, blanketing the paratroopers" field of fire.

"Where is the Dakota?" Craig asked, raising his voice above the rush of wind through the cabin.

"It's going in to land," Tungata called, and, twisting in his seat, Craig had a glimpse of the big grey machine going in low over the tree-tops behind them, lined up for the airstrip.

"I can't get the undercarriage up." Sally-Anne was thumbing the rocker switch but the three green eyes of the undercarriage warning light still glared at her from the console. "We have damage there, it's stuck." The forest beyond the open fields rushed towards them and as she eased back on the control wheel to lift the Cessna over the tree-tops, a hydraulic lead burst under the shot-ruptured engine housing and hydraulic fluid sprayed in viscous sheets over the windscreen.

"Can't seeP Sally-Anne cried, and pulled open her side window, flying by reference to the horizon under her wingtip.

"We've got no instruments," Craig checked the shattered panel. "Airspeed's gone, rate of climb, artificial horizon, altimeter, gyro compass-"

"The undercarriage-" Sally-Anne interrupted him.

"Too much drag, it will cut down our range we'll never make it back!" She was still climbing, but gradually starting to come around onto her course, using the compass in its glass oil bath above her head, when the engine stuttered, almost cut and then surged again in full power.

Quickly Sally-Anne adjusted pitch and power-settings.

"That sounded like fuel starvation," she whispered. "They must have hit a fuel line." She switched the fuel-tank selector cock from 'starboard" to "both" and then glanced up at Craig and grinned. "Hi there! I missed you something awful "Me too." He reached across and squeezed her thigh.

"Time check." Businesslikeagain.

"05-17 hours," Craig told her and looked over side The brown snake of the Tuti road was angling away towards the north, and they were crossing the first line of hills Vusamanzi's village would be out there a few miles beyond the road.

The engine missed again, and Sally-Anne's expression was taut with apprehension.

"Time?"she demanded again "05.27,"Craig told her.

"We will be out of sight of the airstrip by now. Out of earshot too."

"Fungabera won't know where we are, where we are heading." "They've got a helicopter gunship at Victoria Falls." Tungata leaned forward over the seats. "If they guess that we are heading for Botswana, they will send it down to intercept."

"We can outrun a helicopter," Craig guessed.

"Not with our undercarriage down," Sally-Anne contradicted him, and without another warning, the engine cut out completely.

It was suddenly eerily quiet, just the whistle of the wind through the bullet-holes in the fuselage, the propeller windmilling softly for a few seconds longer, and then with a jerk stopping dead and pointing skywards likea headsman s blade.

"Well," Sally-Anne said softly, "it's all immaterial now.

Engine out. We are going in." And then briskly she began her preparations for a 11n f0fed landing as the Cessna started to sink gently away, towards the broken hilly and forested land beneath them. She pulled on MI flap to slow their airspeed.

"Seat-belts, everybody," she said. "Shoulder-straps also." She was switching off the fuel-tanks, the master switches, shutting down to prevent fire on impact.

"Can you see an opening?" she asked Craig, peering hopelessly through the smeared windscreen.

"Nothing." The forest was a dark green mattress below them.

q will try to pick two big trees and knock Our wings off between them that will take the speed off us. But it's still going to be a daddy of a hit," she said, as she struggled with the panel of her side-window.

"I can knock it out for you,"Tungata offered.

Good, "Sally-Anne accepted.

Tungata leaned over and with three blows of his bunched fist smashed the Perspex sheet out of its frame.

Sally-Anne thrust her head out, slitting her eyes against the wind.

The earth came up towards them, faster and faster, the hills seemed to grow in size, beginning to tower above them as Sally-Anne made a gentle gliding turn into a arrow valley. She had no air-speed indicator, so she was now flying by the seat of her pants, holding up the nose to bleed off speed. "Through the hazy smear of the windshield Craig saw the loom of trees.

ered. "Keep "Doors unlocked and open!" Sally-Anne Ord your straps fastened until we stop rolling, then get out as fast as you can, and run likea pack of long thin dogs!" She pulled UP the nose, the Cessna stalled and the nose dropped again likea stone, but she had judged it to a could drop through the horizon micro-second, for before it A she hit the trees. The wings were plucked out of the t ain st their shoulder-straps Cessna, and they were hurled ag with a force that grazed away the skin and bruised the f their speed flesh. But even though the impact took most o off, the dismembered carcass of the aircraft went slithering They were slammed from side and banging into the forest to side and shaken in their seats, the fuselage slewing violently and wrapping sideways around the base of another tree and coming, at last, to rest.

"Out! yelled Sally-Anne. "I can smell gas! Get out and rum" The open doors had been ripped away from their hinges, and they flung off their seat-belts and tumbled out onto the rocky ground, and they ran.

Craig caught up with Sally-Anne. The scarf had come off her head and her long dark tresses streamed behind her.

He reached out and put an arm around her shoulders, guided her towards the lip of a dry ravine and they leaped into it and crouched panting on the sandy bottom, clinging to each other.

"Is she going to flame out? "Sally-Anne gasped.

"Wait for it." He held her, and they tensed themselves for the whooshing detonation of leaking gasoline, and the explosion of the main tanks.

Nothing happened, and the silence of the bush settled over them, so they spoke in awed whispers.

"You fly like an angel, "he said.

"An angel with broken wings." They waited another minute.

"By the way, "he whispered, "what the hell is a long thin dog?"

"A

greyhound," she giggled with reaction from fear. "A dachshund is a long short dog." And he found he was giggling with her as they hugged each other.

"Take a look." She was still laughing nervously. They sto ad up cautiously, and'eered over the rim of the ravine.

The fuselage was crashed and the metal skin of the Cessna had crumpled like aluminium foil, but there was no fire.

They climbed out of the ravine.

"Sam! Craig called. "Sarah!" The two of them stood up from where they had taken cover at the foot of the rocky side of the valley.

"Are you all right?" All four of them were shaken and bruised, Sarah had a bloodied nose and a scratch on her cheek but none of them had been seriously hurt.

"What the hell do we do now?" Craig asked, and they stood in a huddle and looked at each other helplessly.

hey ransacked the shattered carcass of the Cessna the toolbox, the first, aid kit, the survival kit with the flashlight, a five-litre aluminium water the, thermal blankets and malt tablets, the pistol, the ho AK 47 rifle and ammunition, the map-case, and Craig unscrewed the compass from the roof of the cabin. Then they worked for an hour trying to hide all traces of the crash from a searching aircraft. Between them Tungata and Craig dragged the severed wing sections into the ravine and covered them with dried brush. They could not move the fuselage and engine section, but they heaped more branches and brush oven it.

they worked, they heard the sound of an Twice while aircraft in the distance. The resonant throb of twin engines was unmistakable.

"The Dakota," Sally Anne said.

"They are searching for us."

"They can't know that we are down," Sally-Anne protested.

they must know that we took a "No, not for certain, but t realize that real beating," Craig pointed out. "They mus there is a good chance that we are down. They will t the area, and question probably send in foot patrols to scou the villagers."

"The sooner we get out of here-"

"Which way?" rah joined the discussion "May I suggest something?" So deferentially. "We need food and a guide. I think I can lead us from here to my father's village. He will hide us until we have decided what we are going to do, until we are ready to go." Craig looked at Tungata.

"Makes sense any objections, Sam? Okay, let's do it." Before they left the site of the crash, Craig took Sally Anne aside.

Do you feel sad? It was a beautiful aircraft."

"I don't get sentimental over machinery." She shook her head. "Once it was a great little kite, but it's buggered and bent now. I save my sentiments for things that are more cuddly," and she squeezed his hand. "Time to move on, darling." Craig carried the rifle and pointed for them, keeping half a mile ahead and marking the trail. Tungata, lacking stamina, took the drag, with the two girls in the centre.

That evening they dug for water in a dry riverbed and sucked a malt tablet before they rolled into the thermal foil survival blankets.

The girls took the first two sentry goes, while Tungata and Craig spun a coin for the more arduous later watches.

Early the next morning, Craig cut a well-used footpath, and when Sarah came up she recognized it immediately.

Two hours later they were in the cultivated valley below Vusamanzi's hilltop village and while the rest of the party took cover in the standing maize, Sarah climbed up to find her father. When she returned an hour later the old witch doctor was with her.

He came directl u for ata and went down on his arthritically swoIIe'nY1fee'sb7 e him, and he took one of Tungata's feet and placed it upon his silver pate. "Son of kings, I see you," he greeted him. "Sprig of great Mzilikazi, branch of mighty Kurnalo, I am your slave." "Stand up, old man," Tungata lifted him up, and used the respectful term kehla, honoured elder.

"Forgive me that I do not offer refreshment, Vusamanzi apologized, 'but it is not safe here. The Shana soldiers are everywhere. I must lead you to a safe place, and then you can rest and refresh yourselves.

Follow me." He set off at a remarkable pace on his skinny old legs, and they had to lengthen their stride to hold him in view.

They walked for two hours by Craig's wrist-watch, the last hour through dense Thorn thicket and broken to ground. There was no defined footpath, and the heated hush of the bush and the claustrophobic crowding in of the hills was enervating and oppressive.

"I do not like this place," Tungata told Craig softly.

"There are no birds, no animals, there is a feeling here of evil no, not evil, but of mystery and of menace." Craig looked about him. The rocks had the blasted look of slag from the iron furnace and the trees were deformed and crooked, black as charcoal against the sun and leprous silver when the sun's rays struck them full on. Their branches were bearded with trailing lichens, the sickly green of chlorine gas. And Tungata was correct, there were no bird sounds, no rustles of small animals in the undergrowth. Suddenly Craig felt chilled and he shivered in th, sunlight.

"You feel it also," said Tungata, and as he spoke the old man disappeared abruptly, as though he had been swallowed by the black and blasted rock. Craig hurried forward, suppressing a shudder of superstitious dread. He teacher the spot where Vusamanzi had disappeared and looked around, but there was no sign of the old man.

"This way." Vusamanzi's voice was a sepulchral echo.

"Beyond the turn of the rock." The cliff was folded back upon itself, a narrow concealed cleft, just wide enough for a man to squeeze through. Craig stepped round the corner and paused to let his eyes adjust to the poor light.

Vusamanzi had taken a cheap storm lantern from a shelf in the rock above his head and was filling the base with paraffin from the bottle he had carried in his pouch. He struck a match and held it to the wick.

"Come,"he invited, and led them into the passageway.

"These hills are riddled with caves and secret passages," Sarah explained. "They are all dolomite formations." A hundred and fifty yards further on, the passage opened into a large chamber. Soft natural light filtered in through an opening in the domed roof high above their heads.

Vusamanzi extinguished the lantern and set it down on a ledge to one side of a hearth, manmade from blocks of limestone. The rock above the hearth was blackened with soot, and there was a pile of old ash upon the floor. Beside it was a neat stack of firewood.

"This is a sacred place," Vusamanzi told them. "It is here that the apprentice magicians live during the training period. It was here, as a young man, that I served under my own father, and learned the ancient prophecies and the magical arts." He gestured to them to sit down, and all of them slumped thankfully to the rocky floor. "You will be safe here. The soldiers will not find you. In a week or a month, when they grow weary of searching for you, it will be safe for you to leave. Then we will find a man to guide you "It's spooky," Sally-Anne whispered, when Craig translated this for her.

"Some of my women are following us with food. They will come every second &y while you are here, with food and news." Two of Sarah s half-sisters arrived at the cavern before darkness fell. They carried heavy bundles balanced upon their heads, and they set about preparing a meal immedi, lately. Their laughter and merry chatter, the flicker of the flames on the hearth, the smell of woodsmoke and food cooking, partially dispelled the oppressive atmosphere of the cavern.

Craig explained to "You must eat with the women" e old man will be very Sally' Anne "It's the custom– Th unhappy" an old dear, but underneath he turns out "He looks such male chauvinist pig she protested, to be just another passed the beer, pot around their circle, The three men in the centre and the old and ate from the communal bowl man spoke to Tungata between mouthfuls.

"The spirits prevented our first meeting, Nkosi– We waited for you to come that night, but the Shana had taken you. it was a time of sorrow for all of us, but now the spirits have relented they have delivered you from the SP Shana and brought us together at last Vusamanzi looked of great portent that You and I at Craig. "There are things must discuss tribal matters!

"You say that the spirits have arranged my escape from the Shana," Tungata replied. it may be so but if it is, then this white man is their agent. He and his woman have risked their very lives to free me."

"Still, he is a white Man I , said the old man delicately "His family has lived in this land for a hundred years and he is my brother," said Tungata simply.

"You vouch for him, Nkosi?" the old man persisted.

"We are all 4speak, old man," Tungata assured him.

friends, here."

The magician sighed and shuffled and took another handful I of food. "As my lord wishes," he agreed at last, and then abruptly, "You are the guardian of the old king's tomb, are you not?" Tungata's dark eyes hooded in the firelight.

know of these things, old man?" he what do you countered.

when q know that the sons of the house of Kumalo, they reach man hoods are taken to the tomb of the king and made to swear the oath of guardianship-" Tungata nodded reluctantly. This may be so." Do you know the prophecy?) the old man demanded.

d and said, "Mat when the tribe is And Tungata nod de sorely in need, the spirit of the old king will come forth to give them succour." "The spirit of Lobengula will come forth as a fire," the old man corrected him.

"Yes," Tungata agreed. Tobengula's fire."

"And there is more, much more do you know the rest of it, son of Kumalo?"

ell it to me, old father."

"The prophecy goes on thus: The leopard cub will first his chains.

The leopard cub uill first break an oath, then break fly like an eagle, then suim likea fish. When these things have come to pass, the fire of Lobengula uill be freed from the dark places and come forth to SUCCOUr and save his People They were all silent, considering this conundrum.

"The leopard skin is the prerogative of the house of Kumajo," Vusamanzi reminded them. "Thus the leopard cub of the prophecy would be a descendant of the royal house." Tungata grunted noncommittally.

"I do not know that you have broken an oath," the old man went on, 'but you have broken the chains with which the Shana bound you."

"Ehheh!" Tungata nodded his face closed and impassive. A.

"You escaped from)#Tuti in an indeki, flying like an eagle indeed," the old "Man pointed out, and again Tungata nodded, but in English he murmured to Craig, "The beauty of these ancient prophecies is that they can be moulded to fit nearly any circumstances They gain a little or lose a little with each repetition, depending on the mood and the motives of the seer at the time Then he reverted smoothly to Sindebele. "You are wise, old man, and well t tell us what of the swimming of the versed in magic, bu fish? I must warn you that I am not able to swim, and that the only one thing I truly fear is death by drowning. You must seek another fish." Vusamanzi wiped the grease off his chin and looked smug.

"There is something else I must tell you,"Tungata went on. "I have entered Lobengula's tomb. It is empty. The body of Lobengula has gone. The prophecy has been voided long, long ago." The old magician showed no distress at Tungata's words.

Instead he sat back on his heels and unscrewed the stopper of the snuff horn that hung around his neck.

"If you have entered the king's tomb, then you have broken your oath to defend it intact," he pointed out with a wicked twinkle of his eyes. "The oath-breaking of the prophecy could that be it?" He did not wait for a reply but poured red snuff into the palm of his hand and drew it up each nostril. He sneezed ecstatically with tears running down his withered old cheeks.

"If you broke your oath, Nkosi, it was beyond your powers to prevent it. The spirits of your ancestors drove you to it and you are without blame. But, now let me explain the empty tomb." He paused and then seemed to take off at a tangent "Have either of you heard of a man who lived long ago, a man they called Taka-Taka?" They both nodded.

"On the maternal side Taka' Taka was the great-grand, father of Pupho here. "Tungata nodded at Craig. Taka' Taka was a famous white soldier in the old days of Lobengula.

He fought against the king's imp is Taka-Taka is the sound that his machine-guns made when the warriors of the Matabele went against him."

"Old Sir Ralph Ballantyne," Craig agreed. "One of Rhodes" right hand men, and the first prime minister of Rhodesia." He changed back into Sindebele. "Taka-Taka lies buried in the Matopos Hills close by the grave of Lodzi, Of Cecil Rhodes himself."

"That is the one." Vusamanzi wiped the snuff from his upper lip, and the tears from his cheeks with his thumb.

"Taka-Taka, the soldier and the robber of the sacred places of the tribe. It was he who stole the stone birds from the ruined city of Great Zimbabwe. It was he also that came into these very hills to desecrate the tomb of Lobengula, and to steal the fire, stones that hold the spirit of the king." Now both Craig and Tungata leaned forward attentively. "I have read the book that Taka' Taka wrote describing his life-" old Sir Ralph's handwritten diaries were part of Craig's personal treasure that he had left at King's Lynn when Peter Fungabera had driven him out. "I have read the very words of Taka' Taka and he does not tell of reaching Lobengula's tomb. And what are these fire-stones you speak of?" The old man held up a restraining hand. "You go too swiftly, Pupho," he admonished Craig. "Let the son of Kumalo explain these mysteries to us. Have you heard of the fire-stones, Tungata Zebiwe, Who was once Samson Kumalo?"

"I have heard something of them," Tungata agreed cautiously. "I have heard that there was a huge treasure in diamonds, diamonds collected by Lobengula's aniadoda from the white man Lodzi's mines in the south-" Craig started to interrupt, but Tungata silenced him. "I will explain later," he prorriied, and turned back to the old magician.

"What you heard is the truth," Vusamanzi assured him.

"There are five beer, pots filled with the fire-stones."

"And they were stolen by Sir Ralph, by Taka' Taka Craig anticipated.

Vusamanzi looked severe. "You should go to the women's fire, Pupho, for you chatter like one of them." Craig smothered his smile, and sat back suitably chastened while Vusamanzi rearranged his skin cloak before going on.

"When Lobengula was put to earth and his tomb sealed by his half-brother and loyal induna, a man named Gandang'YIho was my great-great-grandfather," Tungata murmured.

"VA-Lo was your great-great, grandfather the old man agreed. "Gandang placed all the king's treasures with him in the tomb, and then led the vanquished tribe of Matabele back. He went back to treat with Lodzi and this man Taka Taka and the tribe went in to the white man's bondage.

But one man stayed in these hills, he was a famous magician named Insutsha, the arrow. He stayed to guard the king's tomb, and he built a village near the tomb, and took wives and bred sons. Insutsha, the arrow, was my grandfather-2 they made small movements of surprise, and Vusamanzi looked complacent. "Yes, do you see how the spirits work? It is all planned and predestined the three of us are bound by our history and our bloodlines, Gandang and Taka -Taka and Insutsha. The spirits have brought us, their descendants, together in their marvellom fashion."

"Sally-Anne is right it's bloody spooky," said Crail-I and Vusamanzi frowned at his gauche use of a foreign language This TakaJaka as I have hinted already, was a famous rogue, with a nose likea hyena and an appetite likea vulture." Vusamanzi gave this summation with relish and glanced significantly at Craig.

"Got it! Craig smiled inwardly, but kept a solemn expression.

"He learned the legend of the five pots of fire-stones, and he went amongst the survivors of Gandang's impi, the men who had been present at the time of the king's death, and he spoke sweet and gentle words and offered gifts of cattle and gold coins and he found a traitor, a dog of a dog who was not fit to be called Matabele. I will not speak the name of this piece of offal, but I spit on his unmarked and dishonoured grave." Vusamanzi's spittle hit the embers of the fire with a spluttering hiss.

"This dog agreed to lead Taka-Taka to the king's burial place. But before he could do so, there was a great war between the white men, and Taka' Taka went north and fought against the German induna called Hamba-Hamba, "the one-who-marcheshere,and,there,and,is-never caught "Von Lettow'Vorbeck," Craig translated, "the German commander in East Africa during the 1914-1918 war." And Tungata nodded agreement. "When the war was over Taka-Taka returned and he called the Matabele traitor, and they came into these hills with the dog of a dog leading them four white men with Taka' Taka as their chief and they searched for the tomb. They searched for twenty-eight days, for the traitor did not remember the exact location and the tomb was cunningly concealed.

However, with his hyena nose Taka -Taka smelled it out at last, and he opened the royal tomb, and he found wagons and guns, but the kings body and the five beer-pots for which he hungered so violently were gone! "This I have already seen and told you,"Tungata said. It was an anti-climax and Tungata turned one palm up in a gesture of resignation, and Craig shrugged, but Vusamanzi went on resolutely.

"They say that Taka–f-aka's rage was like the first great storms of the rains. " They say he roared likea man-eating lion and that his face went red and then purple and finally black." Vusamanzi chortled with glee. "They say he took his hat from his own head and threw it on the ground, then he took his gun and wanted to shoot the Matabele guide, but his white companions restrained him. So he tied the dog to a tree and beat him with a kiboko until he could see his ribs sticking out of the meat of his back, then he took back the gold coins and cattle with which he had bribed him, then he beat him again and finally, still squealing likea bull elephant in musk, Taka-Taka went away and never came back to these hills!

"It is a good tale," Tungata agreed. "And I will tell it to my children! He stretched and yawned. "Now it grows late!

"The tale is not yet told," said Vusamanzi primly, and placed a hand on Tungata's shoulder to prevent him from rising.

"There is more?"

"There is indeed. We must go back a little, for when Taka' Taka and his companions and the traitor dog first arrived in these hills to begin the search, my grandfather Insutsha grew immediately suspicious. Everybody knew of Taka' Taka They knew he did nothing without purpose.

So Insutsha sent three of his prettiest young wives to where Taka' Taka was camped, bearing small gifts of eggs and sour ns and said milk, and Taka-Taka answered the girls" quest io that he had come into these hills to hunt rhinoceros Vusamanzi paused, glanced at Craig, and elaborated, Taka Taka was also a renowned liar. However, the prettiest of the wives waited for the traitor dog of a Matabele at the touched bathing, pool of the river. Under the water she that thing of which it is said, the harder it becomes, the softer becomes the brain of the man who wields it and the it waggles that fast waggles his tongue. With t Ac faster girl's hand on his man spear, the Matabele traitor spilled out boasts and promises of cattle and gold coins, and the pretty wife ran back to my grandfather's village!

Vusamanzi had all their attention again, and he clearly relished it.

"My grandfather was thrown into terrible consternation.

Taka-Taka had come to desecrate and rob the king's tomb.

Insutsha fasted and sat vigil, he threw the bones and stared Ulto the water-divining vessel, and finally he called his four apprentice witch, doctors to him. One of the apprentices was my own father. They went in the full moon and opened the king's tomb and made sacrifice to placate the king's ghost, and then, with reverence, they bore him away, and they resealed the empty tomb. They took the king's body to a safe place and deposited it there, with the beer-pots of bright stones although my father told me that in their haste one of the beer-pots was overturned and broken, and that they gathered up the fallen stones and placed them in a zebra-skin bag, leaving the broken shards in the tomb."