



Produced by John Bickers; Dagny





BLACK HEART AND WHITE HEART

by H. Rider Haggard




DEDICATION

To the Memory of the Child

Nada Burnham,

who "bound all to her" and, while her father cut his way through the
hordes of the Ingobo Regiment, perished of the hardships of war
at Buluwayo on 19th May, 1896, I dedicate these tales--and more
particularly the last, that of a Faith which triumphed over savagery and
death.

H. Rider Haggard.

Ditchingham.




AUTHOR'S NOTE

Of the three stories that comprise this volume[*], one, "The Wizard," a
tale of victorious faith, first appeared some years ago as a Christmas
Annual. Another, "Elissa," is an attempt, difficult enough owing to the
scantiness of the material left to us by time, to recreate the life of
the ancient Phoenician Zimbabwe, whose ruins still stand in Rhodesia,
and, with the addition of the necessary love story, to suggest
circumstances such as might have brought about or accompanied its fall
at the hands of the surrounding savage tribes. The third, "Black Heart
and White Heart," is a story of the courtship, trials and final union of
a pair of Zulu lovers in the time of King Cetywayo.

     [*] This text was prepared from a volume published in 1900
     titled "Black Heart and White Heart, and Other Stories."--
     JB.





BLACK HEART AND WHITE HEART

A ZULU IDYLL



CHAPTER I

PHILIP HADDEN AND KING CETYWAYO

At the date of our introduction to him, Philip Hadden was a
transport-rider and trader in "the Zulu." Still on the right side of
forty, in appearance he was singularly handsome; tall, dark, upright,
with keen eyes, short-pointed beard, curling hair and clear-cut
features. His life had been varied, and there were passages in it which
he did not narrate even to his most intimate friends. He was of gentle
birth, however, and it was said that he had received a public school and
university education in England. At any rate he could quote the classics
with aptitude on occasion, an accomplishment which, coupled with his
refined voice and a bearing not altogether common in the wild places
of the world, had earned for him among his rough companions the
_soubriquet_ of "The Prince."

However these things may have been, it is certain that he had emigrated
to Natal under a cloud, and equally certain that his relatives at home
were content to take no further interest in his fortunes. During the
fifteen or sixteen years which he had spent in or about the colony,
Hadden followed many trades, and did no good at any of them. A clever
man, of agreeable and prepossessing manner, he always found it easy to
form friendships and to secure a fresh start in life. But, by degrees,
the friends were seized with a vague distrust of him; and, after a
period of more or less application, he himself would close the opening
that he had made by a sudden disappearance from the locality, leaving
behind him a doubtful reputation and some bad debts.

Before the beginning of this story of the most remarkable episodes
in his life, Philip Hadden was engaged for several years in
transport-riding--that is, in carrying goods on ox waggons from Durban
or Maritzburg to various points in the interior. A difficulty such as
had more than once confronted him in the course of his career, led to
his temporary abandonment of this means of earning a livelihood. On
arriving at the little frontier town of Utrecht in the Transvaal, in
charge of two waggon loads of mixed goods consigned to a storekeeper
there, it was discovered that out of six cases of brandy five were
missing from his waggon. Hadden explained the matter by throwing the
blame upon his Kaffir "boys," but the storekeeper, a rough-tongued man,
openly called him a thief and refused to pay the freight on any of
the load. From words the two men came to blows, knives were drawn, and
before anybody could interfere the storekeeper received a nasty wound in
his side. That night, without waiting till the matter could be inquired
into by the landdrost or magistrate, Hadden slipped away, and trekked
back into Natal as quickly as his oxen would travel. Feeling that even
here he was not safe, he left one of his waggons at Newcastle, loaded up
the other with Kaffir goods--such as blankets, calico, and hardware--and
crossed into Zululand, where in those days no sheriff's officer would be
likely to follow him.

Being well acquainted with the language and customs of the natives, he
did good trade with them, and soon found himself possessed of some cash
and a small herd of cattle, which he received in exchange for his wares.
Meanwhile news reached him that the man whom he had injured still