the days of my life-第19部分

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llent　man　who　could　sit　a　bucking　horse　better　than　anyone　I　ever　knew。　Subsequently　he　entered　the　service　of　the　British　Government　and　was　killed；　how；　I　forget。
Shortly　after　the　Annexation　Deventer　told　the　following　tale　to　Osborn；　and　at　the　time　we　satisfied　ourselves　that　this　tale　was　true。　A　night　or　two　before　our　arrival　at　Fort　Weber；　when　it　was　known　that　we　were　ing；　Makurupiji；　Secocoeni’s　“Tongue”　or　prime　minister；　visited　the　place　in　connection　with　the　peace　negotiations。　Whether　he　was　still　there　when　we　arrived　I　am　not　quite　certain。　During　his　stay　Mr。　A。　—　who；　I　should　add；　was　not　of　pure　Boer　blood　—　in　Deventer’s　hearing　assured　Makurupiji　that　if　the　Boers　had　scourged　Secocoeni　with　whips；　the　English　would　scourge　him　with　scorpions。　He　said　that　they　would　take　all　the　women　and　cattle　and　make　slaves　or　soldiers　of　the　men。　So　earnest　were　his　protestations　that　at　length　Makurupiji；　who　knew　nothing　about　the　English；　was　persuaded　to　believe　him　and　asked　what　could　be　done　to　prevent　these　calamities。
Mr。　A。　answered　that　there　was　but　one　way　out　of　the　danger；　namely　to　kill　the　British　envoys。　To　this　plan　Makurupiji　at　length　consented；　and　it　was　arranged　that　on　our　way　back　from　Secocoeni’s　town　we　three　were　to　be　ambushed　and　murdered　by　the　Basutos。　I　should　add　that　we　never　learned　whether　or　not　Secocoeni　himself　had　any　part　in　this　scheme；　or　whether　all　the　credit　of　it　must　be　given　to　Makurupiji；　a　very　cunning　and　villainous…looking　person；　who；　I　believe；　ultimately　mitted　suicide　after　the　destruction　of　the　tribe；　preferring　death　to　imprisonment。　If　Secocoeni　was　concerned　in　it　retribution　overtook　him　when；　a　year　or　two　later；　Sir　Gar　Wolseley　stormed　his　town　with　the　help　of　the　Swazis　and　wiped　out　his　people。　I　think　that　he　himself　died　in　jail　in　Pretoria。
After　the　plot　had　been　settled　in　all　its　details　Mr。　A。　and　Makurupiji　separated。　During　the　night；　however；　Deventer；　who　was　horrified　at　the　whole　business；　crept　to　where　Makurupiji　was　sleeping；　woke　him　up　and　implored　him　to　have　nothing　to　do　with　so　foul　a　crime。　Makurupiji　listened　to　his　arguments　and　in　the　end　answered；　“My　words　are　my　words。　What　I　have　said　I　have　said。”
We　arrived　and；　according　to　my　original　pencilled　notes　which　I　have　before　me；　started　for　Secocoeni’s　on　March　27th。　All　that　day　we　rode　through　wild　and　most　beautiful　country；　now　across　valleys　and　now　over　mountains。　Indeed　I　never　saw　any　more　lovely　in　its　own　savage　way；　backed　as　it　was　by　the　splendid　Blueberg　range　rising　like　a　titanic　wall；　its　jagged　pinnacles　aglow　with　the　fires　of　the　setting　sun。　At　length；　scrambling　down　the　path；　in　which　one　of　our　horses　was　seized　with　the　dreaded　sickness　and　left　to　die；　we　entered　the　fever…trap　known　as　Secocoeni’s　Town　and　rode　on　past　the　celebrated　fortified　kopje　to　the　beautiful　hut　that　had　been　prepared　for　us。
Here　we　were　received　by　Swasi；　Secocoeni’s　uncle　and　guest…master。　All　the　population　flocked　out　to　look　at　us；　clad　in　the　sweet　simplicity　of　a　little　strip　of　skin　tied　round　the　middle。　Even　here；　however；　the　female　love　of　ornament　was　in　evidence；　for　the　hair　of　the　women　was　elaborately　arranged　and　powdered　with　some　metal　that　caused　it　to　glitter　and　gave　it　a　blue　tinge。　Our　hut　was　very　superior　to　that　built　by　the　Zulus。　It　stood　in　a　reed…hedged　courtyard　which　was　floored　with　limestone　concrete。　Also　it　had　a　verandah　round　it。　The　interior　walls　were　painted　with　red　ochre　in　lines　and　spirals　something　after　the　old　Greek　fashion。　Indeed；　these　Basutos　gave　me　the　idea　that　they　were　sprung　from　some　race　with　a　considerable　knowledge　of　civilisation　and　its　arts。　In　other　ways；　however；　they　had　quite　relapsed　into　barbarism。　Thus；　as　we　entered　the　town　about　a　hundred　women　returned　from　labouring　in　the　fields；　stripped　themselves　stark　naked　before　us；　and　proceeded　to　wash　in　a　stream　—　though　I　observe　that　they　did　this　“in　a　modest　kind　of　way。”　I　should　add　that　at　this　time　very　few　white　men　had　ever　passed　the　gates　of　Secocoeni’s　Town。
It　was　an　uncanny　kind　of　place。　If　you　got　up　at　night；　if　you　moved　anywhere；　you　became　aware　that　dozens　or　hundreds　of　eyes　were　watching　you。　Privacy　was　impossible。　You　ate；　too；　in　public。　The　chief　sent　down　a　sheep。　You　saw　it　living；　next　you　saw　it　more　or　less　cooked　and　held　before　you　in　quarters　on　sticks　by　kneeling　natives。　You　cut　off　chunks　with　your　knife；　ate　what　you　liked　or；　rather；　what　you　must；　and　threw　the　rest　to　other　natives　who　stood　round　staring；　among　them　the　heir…apparent　to　the　chieftainship。　These　caught　the　pieces　as　a　dog　does；　and　gobbled　them　down　like　a　dog。
On　the　morning　following　our　arrival；　after　a　night　so　hot　that　sleep　was　almost　impossible　—　for　at　that　season　the　place；　surrounded　as　it　was　by　hills；　was　like　a　stewpan　—　we　rose　and；　quite　unwashed；　since　water　was　unobtainable；　ate　more　chunks　of　half…cooked　sheep；　which　we　flavoured　with　quinine。　Then　after　bating　demands　for　brandy；　whereof　the　fame　had　spread　even　to　this　remote　place；　we　surrendered　ourselves　into　the　charge　of　the　astute…faced　Makurupiji；　the　fat　Swasi；　and　of　the　general　of　the　forces；　an　obese　person　called　Galock；　with　a　countenance　resembling　that　of　a　pig。　These　eminent　officers　conducted　us　for　nearly　a　mile；　through　a　heat　so　burning　that　we　grew　quite　exhausted；　to　the　place　of　the　indaba；　or　talk。　Here；　under　a　rough　shed　open　on　all　sides；　sat　about　a　hundred　of　the　headmen　who　had　e　“to　witness。”　Beyond　this　was　the　chief’s　private　enclosure；　where　he　was　seated　on　the　hide　of　a　bull　under　a　shady　tree；　clothed　in　a　tiger…skin　kaross　and　a　cotton　blanket；　and　wearing　on　his　head　a　huge　old　felt　hat。　He　rose　and　shook　hands　with　us　through　the　gateway。　He　was　a　man　of　middle　age　with　twinkling　black　eyes　and　a　flat　nose；　very　repulsive　to　look　on。　After　this　he　retired　to　his　bull…hide；　where　he　sat　chewing　handfuls　of　some　intoxicating　green　leaf；　and　took　no　further　active　part　in　the　proceedings。　All　the　conversation　was　carried　on　through　Makurupiji；　his　“Tongue；”　who　personated　him；　using　the　pronoun　“I；”　and　talking　of　“my　father；　Sequati；”　and　so　forth。
It　was　very　curious　to　see　one　man　pretending　thus　to　be　another；　while　that　other　sat　within　a　few　yards　of　him　apparently　unconcerned。　Another　strange　sight　was　to　watch　the　arrival　of　the　various　notables。　As　each　headman　appeared　he　paused　in　front　of　the　gateway　beyond　which　sat　Secocoeni　chewing　his　leaves；　clapped　his　hands　softly　together　and　uttered　a　word　of　unknown　meaning　which　sounded　like　“Marema。”　Then　he　took　his　seat　with　the　others。
In　the　midst　of　this　throng　we　squatted　for　four　long　hours。　I　remember　that　I　was　perched　upon　a　log　in　the　blaze　of　the　sun；　taking　notes　to　the　best　of　my　ability　—　those　which　are　before　me　now　—　as　the　interpreters　rendered　the　conversation　from　Sesutu　into　Dutch　and　English。　It　was　a　very　trying　experience；　since　I　had　to　keep　my　every　faculty　on　the　strain　lest　I　should　miss　something　of　importance　in　this　medley　of　tongues。　On　paring　the　report　we　finally　sent　in　signed　by　Osborn；　Clarke；　and　myself　（C…1776；　Enclosure　6　in　No。　111）　—　which　report　I　remember　I　wrote　—　with　my　original　pencil　notes；　I　observe；　however；　that　not　much　escaped　me。
Into　the　details　of　that　document　I　will　not　enter　here；　as　it　is　a　matter　of　history；　further　than　to　say　that　the　alleged　treaty　under　which　Secocoeni　was　supposed　to　have　bound　himself　to　bee　a　subject　of　the　Transvaal　proved　to　be　a　fraud。　When　this　had　been　satisfactorily　demonstrated　beyond　the　possibility　of　denial；　the　officer　whom　I　have　named　Mr。　A。；　who　had　negotiated　the　said　treaty；　rose　in　a　rage；　real　or　simulated；　and　withdrew；　taking　with　him　the　Dutch　missioners；　Messrs。　Holtzhausen　and　Van　Gorkom。　After　this　we　entered　the　private　enclosure　and　had　an　interview　with　Secocoeni　himself。　At　first　the　chief　desired　that　Makurupiji　should　continue　to　speak　for　him；　but　to　this　we　refused　to　agree。
I　need　not　repeat　the　substance　of　the　interview；　since　it　is　published　as　an　enclosure　to　the　despatch　which　I　have　quoted　above。　A　re…reading　of　it；　however；　makes　me　wonder　whether　Secocoeni　himself　was　actually　privy　to　the　plot　to　murder　us；　or　whether　it　was　entirely　Makurupiji’s　work。　If　he　was；　he　must　have　been　a　really　remarkable　old　scoundrel。　I　am　bound　to　add；　however；　that；　as　his　subsequent　history　shows；　he　was　in　fact　a　quite　unprincipled　person　whom　no　promises　or　considerations　of　honour　could　bind。　So　it　is　very　possible　that　he　did　know　all　about　the　plot。
At　length　we　bade　farewell　to　the　chief；　whom　we　left　still　chewing　leaves　like　Nebuchadnezzar；　and　that　was　the　last　I　ever　saw　of　him。　On　arriving　at　our　hut　we　found　that　the　mission　had　departed；　leaving　us　without　any　guide。　We　went　back　to　Secocoeni　asking　for　guides；　and　then　began　a　series　of　mysterious　delays。　We　were　told　that　all　the　men　were　out　at　work；　although　scores　stood　about　us；　that　they　did　not　know　the　road；　and　so　forth。　At　last　Osborn　addressed　old　Swasi　and　others　in　a　way　they　could　not　misunderstand；　with　the　result　that　two　lads　were　produced。
The