When we came down
Umslopogaas was still sharpening Inkosi-kaas, although she already
had an edge like a razor. Standing in front of him, and regarding
him with a mixture of fear and fascination, was Alphonse. And
certainly he did seem an alarming object -- sitting there, Zulu
fashion, on his haunches, a wild look upon his intensely savage
and yet intellectual face, sharpening, sharpening, sharpening
at the murderous-looking axe.
'Oh, the monster, the horrible man!' said the little French cook,
lifting his hands in amazement. 'See but the hole in his head;
the skin beats on it up and down like a baby's! Who would nurse
such a baby?' and he burst out laughing at the idea.
For a moment Umslopogaas looked up from his sharpening, and a
sort of evil light played in his dark eyes.
'What does the little "buffalo-heifer" [so named by Umslopogaas,
on account of his mustachios and feminine characteristics] say?
Let him be careful, or I will cut his horns. Beware, little
man monkey, beware!'
Unfortunately Alphonse, who was getting over his fear of him,
went on laughing at 'ce drole d'un monsieur noir'. I was about
to warn him to desist, when suddenly the huge Zulu bounded off
the veranda on to the open space where Alphonse was standing,
his features alive with a sort of malicious enthusiasm, and began
swinging the axe round and round over the Frenchman's head.
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