'Baba, I ask your blessing.'
Gandang placed his open hand on the short cropped fleecy cap of the young man's head.
'You have my blessing,' he said quietly, but the hand lingered, the gesture of blessing became a caress, and then slowly and reluctantly Gandang withdrew the hand.
'Rise up, my son.'
Bazo was as tall as his father, and for a quiet moment they looked steadily into each other's eyes. Then Gandang turned, and flirted his war-shield, a gesture of dismissal, and instantly the still and silent ring of warriors turned their own shields edge on, so that they seemed to fold like a woman's fan, and with miraculous swiftness they split into small platoons and disappeared into the forest.
Within seconds it seemed as though they had never been. Only Gandang and his son still remained at the edge of the camp, and then they too turned and slipped away like two shadows thrown by the moving branches of the mopani trees.
Isazi came out from under the wagon, naked except for the sheath of hollowed gourd covering the head of his penis, and he spat in the fire with a thoughtful and philosophical air.
'Chaka was too soft,' he said. 'He should have followed the traitor Mzilikazi, and taught him good manners. The Matabele are upstart bastards, with no breeding and less respect.'
'Would a Zulu induna have acted that way?' Ralph asked him, as he reached for his shirt.
'No,' Isazi admitted. 'He would certainly have stabbed us all to death. But he would have done so with greater respect and better manners.'
'What do we do now?' Ralph asked.
'We wait,' said Isazi. 'While that vaunting dandy, who should wear the induna headring not on his forehead but around his neck like the collar of a dog decides what should become of us.' Isazi spat in the fire again, this time with contempt. 'We may have long to wait, a Matabele thinks at the same speed as a chameleon runs., And he crawled back under the wagon and pulled the kaross over his head.
in the night the cooking fires from the camp of the Matabele impi down the valley glowed amber and russet on the tops of the mopani, and every time the fickle night wind shifted, the deep melodious sound of their singing carried down to Ralph's outspan.
in the grey dawn Bazo appeared again, as silently as he had disappeared.
'My father, Gandang, induna of the Inyati Regiment, summons you to indaba, Henshaw.'
Ralph bridled immediately. He could almost hear his father's voice. 'Remember always that you are an Englishman, my boy, and as such you are a direct representative of your Queen in this land.'
The reply rose swiftly to Ralph's lips: 'If he wants to see me, tell him to come to me.' But he held the words back.
Gandang was an induna of two thousand, the equivalent of a general. He was a son of an emperor and half brother of a king, the equivalent of an English duke, and this was the soil of Matabeleland on which Ralph was an intruder.
'Tell your father I will come directly., And he went to fetch a fresh shirt and the spare pair of boots, which he had taught Umfaan to polish.
'You are Henshaw, the son of Bakela,' Gandang sat on a low stool, intricately carved from a single piece of ebony. Ralph had been offered no seat, and he squatted down on his heels. 'And Bakela is a man.' Arid there was a murmur of assent and a rustle of plumes as the massed ranks of warriors about them stirred.
'Tshedi is your great-grandfather, and in the king's name has given you the road to Gubulawayo. Tshedi has the right to do so, for he is Lobengula's friend and he was Mzilikazi's friend before that.'
Ralph made no reply. He realized that these statements about his great-grandfather, old Doctor Moffat, whose Matabele name was Tshedi, were for the waiting warriors rather than for himself. Gandang was explaining his decision to his impi.
'But for what reason do you take the road to the king's kraal?'
'I come to see this fair land of which my father has told me.'
'Is that all?' Gandang asked.
'No, I come also to trade, and if the king is kind enough to give me his word, then I wish to hunt the elephant.'
Gandang did not smile, but there was a sparkle in his dark eyes. 'It is not for me to ask which you desire most, Henshaw. The view from a hilltop, or a wagonload of ivory.'
Ralph suppressed his own smile, and remained silent.
'Tell me, son of Bakela, what goods do you bring with you to trade?'
'I have twenty bales of the finest beads and cloth.'
Gandang made a gesture of disinterest. 'Women's fripperies,' he said.
'I have fifty cases of liquor, of the kind preferred by King Lobengula and his royal sister Ningi.'
This time the line of Gandang's mouth thinned and hardened. 'If it were my word on it, I would force those fifty cases of poison down your own throat.' His voice was almost a whisper, but then he spoke again in a natural tone. 'Yet Lobengula, the Great Elephant, will welcome your load., And then he was silent and yet expectant. Ralph realized that Bazo would have reported to his father every detail of his little caravan.
'I have guns,' he said simply, and suddenly there was an intense hunger in Gandang's expression. His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips parted.
'Sting the mamba with his own venom,' he whispered, and beside him Bazo started. It was the Umlimo's
