Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
The only person who did not seem to mind was the Zulu Mouti, who sat on an ant-heap near the horses, in full glare of the setting sun, and comfortably droned out a little song of his own invention, for Zulus seem as clever at improvising as are the Italians. "Have another egg, Jess?" said John. "It will do you good." "No, thank you; the last one stuck in my throat.
Look! there is Mouti calling us. I wonder if those brutes have given him anything to eat! We'll secure the rest of this leg of mutton on chance. At any rate, Mr. Frank Muller sha'n't starve me to death," and with a cheerful laugh he left the room. In a few minutes they were on their road again.
Accordingly, the cart was brought down and stood outside "The Palatial," where John unscrewed the patent caps and filled them with castor-oil, and ordered Mouti to keep the horses, which were all in health, though "poor" from want of proper food, well within hail. Meanwhile, old Hans pursued the jerky tenour of his way for an hour or so, till he came in sight of a small red house.
Round it spun, broadside on to the current, and immediately began to heave over, till at last the angle was so sharp that the dead body of poor Mouti slid out with a splash and vanished into the darkness.
Then came a hurried meal, and before it was swallowed the cart was at the door, with Jantje hanging as usual on to the heads of the two front horses, and the stalwart Zulu, or rather Swazi boy, Mouti, whose sole luggage appeared to consist of a bundle of assegais and sticks wrapped up in a grass mat, and who, hot as it was, was enveloped in a vast military great-coat, lounging placidly alongside.
Nobody was stirring, and as it was practically impossible to arouse the slumbering Kafirs from the various holes and corners where they were taking their rest for a native hates the cold of the dawning Mouti and he were obliged to harness the horses and inspan them without assistance an awkward job in the dark.
It showed the point of rock to which they were fixed, it glared upon the head of one of the poor horses tossed up by the driving current as though it were still trying to escape its watery doom, and revealed the form of the dead Zulu, Mouti, lying on his face, one arm hanging over the edge of the cart and dabbling in the water that ran level with it, in ghastly similarity to some idle passenger in a pleasure boat, who lets his fingers slip softly through the stream.
"Run into his heart and burn away the lies! "Show all the people who is the true Witch Finder! "Let me not be put to shame in the eyes of this white man!" Thus he spoke, or rather chanted, and all the while rubbed his broad chest for he was a very fine man with some filthy compound of medicine or mouti.
One lay down at once, and refused to touch anything a sure sign of great exhaustion; a second ate lying down; but the other two filled themselves in a satisfactory way. Then came a weary wait for the dawn. Mouti slept a little, but John did not dare to do so. At last it came, lying on the eastern sky like a promise, and he once more fed the horses. And now a new difficulty arose.
Accordingly, at half-past eight on a beautiful morning up came the tented cart, with its two massive wheels, stout stinkwood disselboom, and four spirited young horses; to the heads of which the Hottentot Jantje, assisted by the Zulu Mouti, clad in the sweet simplicity of a moocha, a few feathers in his wool, and a horn snuffbox stuck through the fleshy part of the ear, hung on grimly.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking