The Mocking-Bird in the Kloof.
I.
‘ Chick-a-wee—chick-a-wee ! ’1
The brown bird sang in the cedar tree.2
The sunset smote the hills into flame,3
As down through the Kloof the Swazi came—4
Through the Kloof, at a swinging stride,5
With Dixon’s message to Dixon’s bride.6
Dixon, down on the Vaal-stream bank,7
Toiled each day till the red sun sank,8
And through the glare of each weary day9
Thought of his true love far away.10
And he sent for a token, unto his own,11
By Kama, the Swazi, a diamond stone,12
And a letter, whose tune was the old, old song,13
‘ Soon, Love, soon—but ah ! me—how long.’...14
Kama the Swazi, true and tried,15
Fared through the Kloof at eventide.16
In the shade of the ironstone boulder grim17
Stood the Three that waited for him.18
One blow—the space of a swift heart-beat—19
He lay in the dust before their feet.20
He lay—but the life was in him still ;21
‘ One more ! these skellums are hard to kill.’22
Up again, for a breathing space,23
But the ironwood club sent him down on his face.24
‘ He has kept us long ; the moon is high.25
Fling him back in the bush to die ! ’....26
He lay, with his head on the sharp flint-stone,27
Three hours dying, and all alone.28
‘ They have taken the stone,’ he murmured low,29
‘ And my white Inkosi—he will not know ! ’30
And back and forth, through the poor, dull brain,31
Went visions worse than his dying pain.32
He saw, through the mist of his eyeballs dim,33
Dixon waiting in vain for him,34
And heard the voice that he loved the best35
Say ‘ He was faithless, like all the rest.’36
He moaned once more, in his pain and woe,37
‘ My white Inkosi ! he will not know.’38
And, all alone, on the mountain side,39
He turned his face to the moon, and died.40
And still, through the midnight joyously,41
The brown bird sang in the cedar tree.42
II.
Never foot of man, or hoof43
Of horse, durst pass through Waterberg Kloof.44
For at set of sun, when the dusk began,45
Were heard the groans of a dying man.46
And for nigh a twelvemonth, far and wide,47
That terror went through the country-side.48
Then, to put the thing to the proof,49
Dixon rode through the Haunted Kloof.50
Blue-eyed Dixon, gallant and gay,51
Whistling to scare the ghosts away.52
But the sun had dipt, and the darkness grew,53
And a low sound shuddered the still air through.54
It moaned through the boughs of the cedar trees ;55
The grey horse trembled between his knees.56
Out of the air, above, around57
Grew and deepened the wailing sound,58
And shaped into words its moaning low—59
‘ My white Inkosi,’ he will not know ! ’60
And Dixon turned, drew not rein or breath,61
And rode like a man that flies from death.62
That night, in camp, they whispered apart,63
Of the fear that could shake an English heart.64
But they came and searched, by light of day,65
And found where the poor bones bleaching lay,66
And showed, as they whitened neath moon and sun,67
What the axe and the ironwood club had done.68
And Dixon muttered, under his breath,69
‘ I know, poor heart, thou wert true to death ! ’70
He turned, with his white face stern and set,71
‘ May God forget me, if I forget ! ’72
‘ If I forget ! ’ sang mockingly73
The brown bird up in the cedar tree !74