A Frontier Mystery
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Оглавление
Mitford Bertram. A Frontier Mystery
Chapter One “Where I come in.”
Chapter Two. Godfrey Glanton – Trader
Chapter Three. Of an Evening Visit
Chapter Four. My Neighbour’s Household
Chapter Five. A Disappearance and a Revel
Chapter Six. Further Festivity
Chapter Seven. Tyingoza’s Head-Ring
Chapter Eight. The Spoiling of the Hunt
Chapter Nine. Hensley’s next-of-kin
Chapter Ten. Falkner Pugnacious
Chapter Eleven. A Farewell Visit
Chapter Twelve. The Mystery of the Waterhole
Chapter Thirteen. The Incident of the Lost Coin
Chapter Fourteen. A Bad Beginning
Chapter Fifteen. Two of a Trade
Chapter Sixteen. To Blows
Chapter Seventeen. Majendwa’s Kraal
Chapter Eighteen. A Grim Find
Chapter Nineteen. Concerning a Letter
Chapter Twenty. Falkner Shows His Hand – And His Teeth
Chapter Twenty One. Dolf Norbury Again
Chapter Twenty Two. A Solomon – in the Zulu
Chapter Twenty Three “Welcome Home!”
Chapter Twenty Four “The Answer is – Yes.”
Chapter Twenty Five. The Witch Doctor Again
Chapter Twenty Six. Into Empty Air
Chapter Twenty Seven. The Dive of the Water Rat
Chapter Twenty Eight. What Jan Boom Told
Chapter Twenty Nine. What we Found
Chapter Thirty. The Latest Victim
Chapter Thirty One. The Brotherhood of the Dew
Chapter Thirty Two. The Last Penalty
Chapter Thirty Three. Conclusion
Отрывок из книги
It was hot. Away on the skyline the jagged peaks of Kahlamba rose in a shimmer of haze. In front and below, the same shimmer was upon the great sweep of green and gold bush. The far winding of the Tugela shone here and there through the billowy undulations of the same, and above, a gleam of silver where Umzinyati’s waters babbled on to join it. So, too, over the far expanse of warrior Zululand – peaceful enough now to outward aspect in all conscience – the slumbrous yet far from enervating heat of mid-afternoon still brooded.
Yes, it was hot, decidedly hot, and I remarked thereupon to Tyingoza, who agreed with me of course. Every well-bred native agrees with you – that is to say pretty well every native – and Tyingoza was a well-bred native, being of Umtetwa breed – the royal clan what time Tshaka the Usurper, Tshaka the Great, Tshaka the Genius, Tshaka the Terrible, shook up the dry bones and made the nation of Zulu to live. Incidentally Tyingoza was the chief of a very large native location situated right on the border – and in this connection I have often wondered how it is that with the fear of that awful and bloodthirsty tyrant Cetywayo (see the Blue Books) before their eyes, such a congested native population could have been found to plant itself, of its own free will, right bang within assegai throw of his “manslaying machine” (see again the Blue Books), that is to say, with only the division afforded by an easily fordable river between it and them. Tyingoza’s father had migrated from Zululand what time the Dutch and Mpande fought Dingane, and Dingane fought both; for, like a wise man, he held that he could not konza to three kings, and now Tyingoza would have returned to his fatherland, with which all his sympathies – sentimental – lay, but for the material fact that he – and incidentally, his followers – were exceedingly comfortable where they were.
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I felt pleased. She had a way of what I will call for want of a better expression – smoothing you down the right way. I said:
“But these savages, Miss Sewin. Believe me, they are not half bad fellows at bottom if you take them the right way. You haven’t got to go very far down to find them so, either.”
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