The Angels Weep - Smith Wilbur (бесплатные онлайн книги читаем полные версии txt) 📗
It was long after midnight before all of them had received and repeated their orders, and then Bazo addressed them again.
"Stealth and speed are our only allies. No warrior will carry a shield, for the temptation to drum upon it in the old way would be too strong. Steel alone, silent steel. There will be no singing the war songs when you run, for the leopard does not growl before he springs.
The leopard hunts in darkness, and when he enters the goat-shed he spares nothing as easily as he rips the throat from the billy, he kills also the nanny and the kids." "Women?" asked Babiaan sombrely.
"Even as they shot down Ruth and Imbali,"Bazo nodded. "Children?" asked another and una
"Little white girls grow up to bear little white boys, and little white boys in their turn grow up to carry guns. When a wise man finds a mamba's lair, he kills the snake and crushes the eggs under foot."
"Will we spare none?" "No, , Bazo confirmed quietly, but there was something in his voice that made Gandang, his father, shiver. He recognized the moment when the real power shifted from the old bull to the younger. Indisputably, Bazo was now their leader.
So it was Bazo who said at last, "Indaba peUle! The meeting is finished!" And one by one the indunas saluted him and left the the hut and slipped away into the night, and when the last was gone, the screen of goatskins at the back was pushed aside and Tanase stepped out and came to Bazo.
"I am so proud," she whispered, "that I want to weep like a silly girl." It was a long column, counting the women and children, almost a thousand human beings. It was strung out over a mile, winding like a maimed adder down out of the hills. Again custom was being flouted, for although the men led, they were burdened with grain bags and cooking-pots. Of ala, they would have carried only their shield and weapons. There were more than the two hundred strong men that Bazo had promised Henshaw.
The women came after them. Many of the men had brought more than one wife and some as many as four. Even the very young girls, those not yet in puberty, carried rolls of sleeping-mats balanced upon their heads, and the mothers had their infants slung upon their hips so that they could suckle from a fat black breast while on the march. Juba's roll of matting was as heavy as any of them. However, despite her great bulk, the younger women had to step out to keep pace with her.
Her high clear soprano led the singing.
Bazo came back along the column at an easy lope, unmarried girls turned their heads, careful not to unbalance their burdens, to watch him as he passed, and then they whispered and giggled amongst themselves, for though he was ravaged and scarred, the aura of power and purpose that surrounded him was intensely attractive to even the youngest and flightiest of them.
Bazo came level with Juba, and fell in at her side. "Mamewethu."
He greeted her respect hilly "The burdens of your young girls will be a little lighter after we cross the river. We will leave three hundred assegais concealed in the millet-bins and buried under the goat shed of Suku's people." "And the rest of them? "Juba asked.
"Those we will take with us to the Harkness Mine. A place of concealment has been prepared. From there your girls will take them out a few at a time to the outlying villages." Bazo started back towards the head of the column, but Juba called him back.
"My son, I am troubled, deeply troubled." "It grieves me, little Mother. What troubles you?" "Tanase tells me that all the white folk are to be kissed with steel." "All of them," Bazo nodded.
"Nomusa, who is more than a mother to me, must she die also, my son? She is so good and kind to our people." Gently Bazo took her by the arm and led her off the path, where they could not be overheard.
"That very kindness which you speak of makes her the most dangerous of all of them," Bazo explained. "The love that you bear for her weakens us all. If I say to you, "We will spare this one," then you will ask, "Can we not also spare her little son, and her daughters and their children?"" Bazo shook his head. "No, I tell you truly, if I were to spare one of them, it would be One-Bright-Eye himself."
"One-Bright-Eye!" Juba started. "I do not understand. He is cruel and fierce, without understanding." "When our warriors look on his face and hear his voice, they are reminded once again of all the wrongs we have suffered, and they become strong and angry. When they look upon Nomusa, they become soft and hesitant. She must be amongst the very first to die, and I will send a good man to do that work." "You say they must all die?" Juba asked. "This one, that comes now. Will he die also?" Juba pointed ahead, where the path wound lazily beneath the spreading flat-topped acacia trees. There was a horseman cantering towards them from the direction of the Harkness Mine and even at this distance there was no mistaking the set of his powerful shoulders and his easy and yet arrogant seat in the saddle. "Look at him!" Juba went on. "It was you who gave him the praise name of "little Hawk". You have often told me how as youths you worked shoulder to shoulder, and ate from the same pot. You were proud when you described the wild falcon that you caught and trained together." Juba's voice sank lower.
"Will you kill this man that you call your brother, my son?" "I will let no other do it," Bazo affirmed. "I will do it with my own hand, to make sure it is swift and clean. And after him I will kill his woman and his son. When that is done, there will be no turning back." "You have become a hard man, my son, "Juba whispered, with terrible shadows of regret in her eyes and an ache in her voice.
Bazo turned away from her, and stepped back onto the path. Ralph Ballantyne saw him and waved his hat above his head.
"Bazo," he laughed, as he rode up. "Will I ever learn never to doubt you? You bring me more than the two hundred you promised." Ralph Ballantyne crossed the southern boundary of King's Lynn, but it was another two hours" riding before he made out the milky grey loom of the homestead kopjes on the horizon.
