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diff --git a/611-0.txt b/611-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebeebe2 --- /dev/null +++ b/611-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7338 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 611 *** +PRESTER JOHN + +by JOHN BUCHAN + + + + +TO +LIONEL PHILLIPS + +Time, they say, must the best of us capture, +And travel and battle and gems and gold +No more can kindle the ancient rapture, +For even the youngest of hearts grows old. +But in you, I think, the boy is not over; +So take this medley of ways and wars +As the gift of a friend and a fellow-lover +Of the fairest country under the stars. + + J. B. + + + + +CONTENTS + + Chapter I. The Man on the Kirkcaple Shore + Chapter II. Furth! Fortune! + Chapter III. Blaauwildebeestefontein + Chapter IV. My Journey to the Winter-Veld + Chapter V. Mr Wardlaw Has a Premonition + Chapter VI. The Drums Beat at Sunset + Chapter VII. Captain Arcoll Tells a Tale + Chapter VIII. I Fall in Again with the Reverend John Laputa + Chapter IX. The Store at Umvelos' + Chapter X. I Go Treasure-Hunting + Chapter XI. The Cave of the Rooirand + Chapter XII. Captain Arcoll Sends a Message + Chapter XIII. The Drift of the Letaba + Chapter XIV. I Carry the Collar of Prester John + Chapter XV. Morning in the Berg + Chapter XVI. Inanda's Kraal + Chapter XVII. A Deal and Its Consequences + Chapter XVIII. How a Man May Sometimes Put His Trust in a Horse + Chapter XIX. Arcoll's Shepherding + Chapter XX. My Last Sight of the Reverend John Laputa + Chapter XXI. I Climb the Crags a Second Time + Chapter XXII. A Great Peril and a Great Salvation + Chapter XXIII. My Uncle's Gift Is Many Times Multiplied + + + + +CHAPTER I +THE MAN ON THE KIRKCAPLE SHORE + + +I mind as if it were yesterday my first sight of the man. Little I knew +at the time how big the moment was with destiny, or how often that face +seen in the fitful moonlight would haunt my sleep and disturb my waking +hours. But I mind yet the cold grue of terror I got from it, a terror +which was surely more than the due of a few truant lads breaking the +Sabbath with their play. + +The town of Kirkcaple, of which and its adjacent parish of Portincross +my father was the minister, lies on a hillside above the little bay of +Caple, and looks squarely out on the North Sea. Round the horns of land +which enclose the bay the coast shows on either side a battlement of +stark red cliffs through which a burn or two makes a pass to the +water’s edge. The bay itself is ringed with fine clean sands, where we +lads of the burgh school loved to bathe in the warm weather. But on +long holidays the sport was to go farther afield among the cliffs; for +there there were many deep caves and pools, where podleys might be +caught with the line, and hid treasures sought for at the expense of +the skin of the knees and the buttons of the trousers. Many a long +Saturday I have passed in a crinkle of the cliffs, having lit a fire of +driftwood, and made believe that I was a smuggler or a Jacobite new +landed from France. There was a band of us in Kirkcaple, lads of my own +age, including Archie Leslie, the son of my father’s session-clerk, and +Tam Dyke, the provost’s nephew. We were sealed to silence by the blood +oath, and we bore each the name of some historic pirate or sailorman. I +was Paul Jones, Tam was Captain Kidd, and Archie, need I say it, was +Morgan himself. Our tryst was a cave where a little water called the +Dyve Burn had cut its way through the cliffs to the sea. There we +forgathered in the summer evenings and of a Saturday afternoon in +winter, and told mighty tales of our prowess and flattered our silly +hearts. But the sober truth is that our deeds were of the humblest, and +a dozen of fish or a handful of apples was all our booty, and our +greatest exploit a fight with the roughs at the Dyve tan-work. + +My father’s spring Communion fell on the last Sabbath of April, and on +the particular Sabbath of which I speak the weather was mild and bright +for the time of year. I had been surfeited with the Thursday’s and +Saturday’s services, and the two long diets of worship on the Sabbath +were hard for a lad of twelve to bear with the spring in his bones and +the sun slanting through the gallery window. There still remained the +service on the Sabbath evening—a doleful prospect, for the Rev. Mr +Murdoch of Kilchristie, noted for the length of his discourses, had +exchanged pulpits with my father. So my mind was ripe for the proposal +of Archie Leslie, on our way home to tea, that by a little skill we +might give the kirk the slip. At our Communion the pews were emptied of +their regular occupants and the congregation seated itself as it +pleased. The manse seat was full of the Kirkcaple relations of Mr +Murdoch, who had been invited there by my mother to hear him, and it +was not hard to obtain permission to sit with Archie and Tam Dyke in +the cock-loft in the gallery. Word was sent to Tam, and so it happened +that three abandoned lads duly passed the plate and took their seats in +the cock-loft. But when the bell had done jowing, and we heard by the +sounds of their feet that the elders had gone in to the kirk, we +slipped down the stairs and out of the side door. We were through the +churchyard in a twinkling, and hot-foot on the road to the Dyve Burn. +It was the fashion of the genteel in Kirkcaple to put their boys into +what were known as Eton suits—long trousers, cut-away jackets, and +chimney-pot hats. I had been one of the earliest victims, and well I +remember how I fled home from the Sabbath school with the snowballs of +the town roughs rattling off my chimney-pot. Archie had followed, his +family being in all things imitators of mine. We were now clothed in +this wearisome garb, so our first care was to secrete safely our hats +in a marked spot under some whin bushes on the links. Tam was free from +the bondage of fashion, and wore his ordinary best knickerbockers. From +inside his jacket he unfolded his special treasure, which was to light +us on our expedition—an evil-smelling old tin lantern with a shutter. + +Tam was of the Free Kirk persuasion, and as his Communion fell on a +different day from ours, he was spared the bondage of church attendance +from which Archie and I had revolted. But notable events had happened +that day in his church. A black man, the Rev. John Something-or-other, +had been preaching. Tam was full of the portent. “A nagger,” he said, +“a great black chap as big as your father, Archie.” He seemed to have +banged the bookboard with some effect, and had kept Tam, for once in +his life, awake. He had preached about the heathen in Africa, and how a +black man was as good as a white man in the sight of God, and he had +forecast a day when the negroes would have something to teach the +British in the way of civilization. So at any rate ran the account of +Tam Dyke, who did not share the preacher’s views. “It’s all nonsense, +Davie. The Bible says that the children of Ham were to be our servants. +If I were the minister I wouldn’t let a nigger into the pulpit. I +wouldn’t let him farther than the Sabbath school.” + +Night fell as we came to the broomy spaces of the links, and ere we had +breasted the slope of the neck which separates Kirkcaple Bay from the +cliffs it was as dark as an April evening with a full moon can be. Tam +would have had it darker. He got out his lantern, and after a +prodigious waste of matches kindled the candle-end inside, turned the +dark shutter, and trotted happily on. We had no need of his lighting +till the Dyve Burn was reached and the path began to descend steeply +through the rift in the crags. + +It was here we found that some one had gone before us. Archie was great +in those days at tracking, his ambition running in Indian paths. He +would walk always with his head bent and his eyes on the ground, +whereby he several times found lost coins and once a trinket dropped by +the provost’s wife. At the edge of the burn, where the path turns +downward, there is a patch of shingle washed up by some spate. Archie +was on his knees in a second. “Lads,” he cried, “there’s spoor here;” +and then after some nosing, “it’s a man’s track, going downward, a big +man with flat feet. It’s fresh, too, for it crosses the damp bit of +gravel, and the water has scarcely filled the holes yet.” + +We did not dare to question Archie’s woodcraft, but it puzzled us who +the stranger could be. In summer weather you might find a party of +picnickers here, attracted by the fine hard sands at the burn mouth. +But at this time of night and season of the year there was no call for +any one to be trespassing on our preserves. No fishermen came this way, +the lobster-pots being all to the east, and the stark headland of the +Red Neb made the road to them by the water’s edge difficult. The +tan-work lads used to come now and then for a swim, but you would not +find a tan-work lad bathing on a chill April night. Yet there was no +question where our precursor had gone. He was making for the shore. Tam +unshuttered his lantern, and the steps went clearly down the corkscrew +path. “Maybe he is after our cave. We’d better go cannily.” + +The glim was dowsed—the words were Archie’s—and in the best contraband +manner we stole down the gully. The business had suddenly taken an +eerie turn, and I think in our hearts we were all a little afraid. But +Tam had a lantern, and it would never do to turn back from an adventure +which had all the appearance of being the true sort. Half way down +there is a scrog of wood, dwarf alders and hawthorn, which makes an +arch over the path. I, for one, was glad when we got through this with +no worse mishap than a stumble from Tam which caused the lantern door +to fly open and the candle to go out. We did not stop to relight it, +but scrambled down the screes till we came to the long slabs of reddish +rock which abutted on the beach. We could not see the track, so we gave +up the business of scouts, and dropped quietly over the big boulder and +into the crinkle of cliff which we called our cave. + +There was nobody there, so we relit the lantern and examined our +properties. Two or three fishing-rods for the burn, much damaged by +weather; some sea-lines on a dry shelf of rock; a couple of wooden +boxes; a pile of driftwood for fires, and a heap of quartz in which we +thought we had found veins of gold—such was the modest furnishing of +our den. To this I must add some broken clay pipes, with which we made +believe to imitate our elders, smoking a foul mixture of coltsfoot +leaves and brown paper. The band was in session, so following our +ritual we sent out a picket. Tam was deputed to go round the edge of +the cliff from which the shore was visible, and report if the coast was +clear. + +He returned in three minutes, his eyes round with amazement in the +lantern light. “There’s a fire on the sands,” he repeated, “and a man +beside it.” + +Here was news indeed. Without a word we made for the open, Archie +first, and Tam, who had seized and shuttered his lantern, coming last. +We crawled to the edge of the cliff and peered round, and there sure +enough, on the hard bit of sand which the tide had left by the burn +mouth, was a twinkle of light and a dark figure. + +The moon was rising, and besides there was that curious sheen from the +sea which you will often notice in spring. The glow was maybe a hundred +yards distant, a little spark of fire I could have put in my cap, and, +from its crackling and smoke, composed of dry seaweed and half-green +branches from the burnside thickets. A man’s figure stood near it, and +as we looked it moved round and round the fire in circles which first +of all widened and then contracted. + +The sight was so unexpected, so beyond the beat of our experience, that +we were all a little scared. What could this strange being want with a +fire at half-past eight of an April Sabbath night on the Dyve Burn +sands? We discussed the thing in whispers behind a boulder, but none of +us had any solution. “Belike he’s come ashore in a boat,” said Archie. +“He’s maybe a foreigner.” But I pointed out that, from the tracks which +Archie himself had found, the man must have come overland down the +cliffs. Tam was clear he was a madman, and was for withdrawing promptly +from the whole business. + +But some spell kept our feet tied there in that silent world of sand +and moon and sea. I remember looking back and seeing the solemn, +frowning faces of the cliffs, and feeling somehow shut in with this +unknown being in a strange union. What kind of errand had brought this +interloper into our territory? For a wonder I was less afraid than +curious. I wanted to get to the heart of the matter, and to discover +what the man was up to with his fire and his circles. + +The same thought must have been in Archie’s head, for he dropped on his +belly and began to crawl softly seawards. I followed, and Tam, with +sundry complaints, crept after my heels. Between the cliffs and the +fire lay some sixty yards of _débris_ and boulders above the level of +all but the high spring tides. Beyond lay a string of seaweedy pools +and then the hard sands of the burnfoot. There was excellent cover +among the big stones, and apart from the distance and the dim light, +the man by the fire was too preoccupied in his task to keep much +look-out towards the land. I remember thinking he had chosen his place +well, for save from the sea he could not be seen. The cliffs are so +undercut that unless a watcher on the coast were on their extreme edge +he would not see the burnfoot sands. + +Archie, the skilled tracker, was the one who all but betrayed us. His +knee slipped on the seaweed, and he rolled off a boulder, bringing down +with him a clatter of small stones. We lay as still as mice, in terror +lest the man should have heard the noise and have come to look for the +cause. By-and-by when I ventured to raise my head above a flat-topped +stone I saw that he was undisturbed. The fire still burned, and he was +pacing round it. On the edge of the pools was an outcrop of red +sandstone much fissured by the sea. Here was an excellent +vantage-ground, and all three of us curled behind it, with our eyes +just over the edge. The man was not twenty yards off, and I could see +clearly what manner of fellow he was. For one thing he was huge of +size, or so he seemed to me in the half-light. He wore nothing but a +shirt and trousers, and I could hear by the flap of his feet on the +sand that he was barefoot. + +Suddenly Tam Dyke gave a gasp of astonishment. “Gosh, it’s the black +minister!” he said. + +It was indeed a black man, as we saw when the moon came out of a cloud. +His head was on his breast, and he walked round the fire with measured, +regular steps. At intervals he would stop and raise both hands to the +sky, and bend his body in the direction of the moon. But he never +uttered a word. + +“It’s magic,” said Archie. “He’s going to raise Satan. We must bide +here and see what happens, for he’ll grip us if we try to go back. The +moon’s ower high.” + +The procession continued as if to some slow music. I had been in no +fear of the adventure back there by our cave; but now that I saw the +thing from close at hand, my courage began to ebb. There was something +desperately uncanny about this great negro, who had shed his clerical +garments, and was now practising some strange magic alone by the sea. I +had no doubt it was the black art, for there was that in the air and +the scene which spelled the unlawful. As we watched, the circles +stopped, and the man threw something on the fire. A thick smoke rose of +which we could feel the aromatic scent, and when it was gone the flame +burned with a silvery blueness like moonlight. Still no sound came from +the minister, but he took something from his belt, and began to make +odd markings in the sand between the inner circle and the fire. As he +turned, the moon gleamed on the implement, and we saw it was a great +knife. + +We were now scared in real earnest. Here were we, three boys, at night +in a lonely place a few yards from a savage with a knife. The adventure +was far past my liking, and even the intrepid Archie was having qualms, +if I could judge from his set face. As for Tam, his teeth were +chattering like a threshing-mill. + +Suddenly I felt something soft and warm on the rock at my right hand. I +felt again, and, lo! it was the man’s clothes. There were his boots and +socks, his minister’s coat and his minister’s hat. + +This made the predicament worse, for if we waited till he finished his +rites we should for certain be found by him. At the same time, to +return over the boulders in the bright moonlight seemed an equally sure +way to discovery. I whispered to Archie, who was for waiting a little +longer. “Something may turn up,” he said. It was always his way. + +I do not know what would have turned up, for we had no chance of +testing it. The situation had proved too much for the nerves of Tam +Dyke. As the man turned towards us in his bowings and bendings, Tam +suddenly sprang to his feet and shouted at him a piece of schoolboy +rudeness then fashionable in Kirkcaple. + +“Wha called ye partan-face, my bonny man?” Then, clutching his lantern, +he ran for dear life, while Archie and I raced at his heels. As I +turned I had a glimpse of a huge figure, knife in hand, bounding +towards us. + +Though I only saw it in the turn of a head, the face stamped itself +indelibly upon my mind. It was black, black as ebony, but it was +different from the ordinary negro. There were no thick lips and flat +nostrils; rather, if I could trust my eyes, the nose was high-bridged, +and the lines of the mouth sharp and firm. But it was distorted into an +expression of such a devilish fury and amazement that my heart became +like water. + +We had a start, as I have said, of some twenty or thirty yards. Among +the boulders we were not at a great disadvantage, for a boy can flit +quickly over them, while a grown man must pick his way. Archie, as +ever, kept his wits the best of us. “Make straight for the burn,” he +shouted in a hoarse whisper; we’ll beat him on the slope.” + +We passed the boulders and slithered over the outcrop of red rock and +the patches of sea-pink till we reached the channel of the Dyve water, +which flows gently among pebbles after leaving the gully. Here for the +first time I looked back and saw nothing. I stopped involuntarily, and +that halt was nearly my undoing. For our pursuer had reached the burn +before us, but lower down, and was coming up its bank to cut us off. + +At most times I am a notable coward, and in these days I was still more +of one, owing to a quick and easily-heated imagination. But now I think +I did a brave thing, though more by instinct than resolution. Archie +was running first, and had already splashed through the burn; Tam came +next, just about to cross, and the black man was almost at his elbow. +Another second and Tam would have been in his clutches had I not yelled +out a warning and made straight up the bank of the burn. Tam fell into +the pool—I could hear his spluttering cry—but he got across; for I +heard Archie call to him, and the two vanished into the thicket which +clothes all the left bank of the gully. The pursuer, seeing me on his +own side of the water, followed straight on; and before I knew it had +become a race between the two of us. + +I was hideously frightened, but not without hope, for the screes and +shelves of this right side of the gully were known to me from many a +day’s exploring. I was light on my feet and uncommonly sound in wind, +being by far the best long-distance runner in Kirkcaple. If I could +only keep my lead till I reached a certain corner I knew of, I could +outwit my enemy; for it was possible from that place to make a detour +behind a waterfall and get into a secret path of ours among the bushes. +I flew up the steep screes, not daring to look round; but at the top, +where the rocks begin, I had a glimpse of my pursuer. The man could +run. Heavy in build though he was he was not six yards behind me, and I +could see the white of his eyes and the red of his gums. I saw +something else—a glint of white metal in his hand. He still had his +knife. + +Fear sent me up the rocks like a seagull, and I scrambled and leaped, +making for the corner I knew of. Something told me that the pursuit was +slackening, and for a moment I halted to look round. A second time a +halt was nearly the end of me. A great stone flew through the air, and +took the cliff an inch from my head, half-blinding me with splinters. +And now I began to get angry. I pulled myself into cover, skirted a +rock till I came to my corner, and looked back for the enemy. There he +was scrambling by the way I had come, and making a prodigious clatter +among the stones. I picked up a loose bit of rock and hurled it with +all my force in his direction. It broke before it reached him, but a +considerable lump, to my joy, took him full in the face. Then my +terrors revived. I slipped behind the waterfall and was soon in the +thicket, and toiling towards the top. + +I think this last bit was the worst in the race, for my strength was +failing, and I seemed to hear those horrid steps at my heels. My heart +was in my mouth as, careless of my best clothes, I tore through the +hawthorn bushes. Then I struck the path and, to my relief, came on +Archie and Tam, who were running slowly in desperate anxiety about my +fate. We then took hands and soon reached the top of the gully. + +For a second we looked back. The pursuit had ceased, and far down the +burn we could hear the sounds as of some one going back to the sands. + +“Your face is bleeding, Davie. Did he get near enough to hit you?” +Archie asked. + +“He hit me with a stone. But I gave him better. He’s got a bleeding +nose to remember this night by.” + +We did not dare take the road by the links, but made for the nearest +human habitation. This was a farm about half a mile inland, and when we +reached it we lay down by the stack-yard gate and panted. + + “I’ve lost my lantern,” said Tam. “The big black brute! See if I don’t + tell my father.” + +“Ye’ll do nothing of the kind,” said Archie fiercely. “He knows nothing +about us and can’t do us any harm. But if the story got out and he +found out who we were, he’d murder the lot of US.” + +He made us swear secrecy, which we were willing enough to do, seeing +very clearly the sense in his argument. Then we struck the highroad and +trotted back at our best pace to Kirkcaple, fear of our families +gradually ousting fear of pursuit. In our excitement Archie and I +forgot about our Sabbath hats, reposing quietly below a whin bush on +the links. + +We were not destined to escape without detection. As ill luck would +have it, Mr Murdoch had been taken ill with the stomach-ache after the +second psalm, and the congregation had been abruptly dispersed. My +mother had waited for me at the church door, and, seeing no signs of +her son, had searched the gallery. Then the truth came out, and, had I +been only for a mild walk on the links, retribution would have +overtaken my truantry. But to add to this I arrived home with a +scratched face, no hat, and several rents in my best trousers. I was +well cuffed and sent to bed, with the promise of full-dress +chastisement when my father should come home in the morning. + +My father arrived before breakfast next day, and I was duly and soundly +whipped. I set out for school with aching bones to add to the usual +depression of Monday morning. At the corner of the Nethergate I fell in +with Archie, who was staring at a trap carrying two men which was +coming down the street. It was the Free Church minister—he had married +a rich wife and kept a horse—driving the preacher of yesterday to the +railway station. Archie and I were in behind a doorpost in a twinkling, +so that we could see in safety the last of our enemy. He was dressed in +minister’s clothes, with a heavy fur-coat and a brand new +yellow-leather Gladstone bag. He was talking loudly as he passed, and +the Free Church minister seemed to be listening attentively. I heard +his deep voice saying something about the “work of God in this place.” +But what I noticed specially—and the sight made me forget my aching +hinder parts—was that he had a swollen eye, and two strips of +sticking-plaster on his cheek. + + + + +CHAPTER II +FURTH! FORTUNE! + + +In this plain story of mine there will be so many wild doings ere the +end is reached, that I beg my reader’s assent to a prosaic digression. +I will tell briefly the things which happened between my sight of the +man on the Kirkcaple sands and my voyage to Africa. I continued for +three years at the burgh school, where my progress was less notable in +my studies than in my sports. One by one I saw my companions pass out +of idle boyhood and be set to professions. Tam Dyke on two occasions +ran off to sea in the Dutch schooners which used to load with coal in +our port; and finally his father gave him his will, and he was +apprenticed to the merchant service. Archie Leslie, who was a year my +elder, was destined for the law, so he left Kirkcaple for an Edinburgh +office, where he was also to take out classes at the college. I +remained on at school till I sat alone by myself in the highest class—a +position of little dignity and deep loneliness. I had grown a tall, +square-set lad, and my prowess at Rugby football was renowned beyond +the parishes of Kirkcaple and Portincross. To my father I fear I was a +disappointment. He had hoped for something in his son more bookish and +sedentary, more like his gentle, studious self. + +On one thing I was determined: I should follow a learned profession. +The fear of being sent to an office, like so many of my schoolfellows, +inspired me to the little progress I ever made in my studies. I chose +the ministry, not, I fear, out of any reverence for the sacred calling, +but because my father had followed it before me. Accordingly I was sent +at the age of sixteen for a year’s finishing at the High School of +Edinburgh, and the following winter began my Arts course at the +university. + +If Fate had been kinder to me, I think I might have become a scholar. +At any rate I was just acquiring a taste for philosophy and the dead +languages when my father died suddenly of a paralytic shock, and I had +to set about earning a living. + +My mother was left badly off, for my poor father had never been able to +save much from his modest stipend. When all things were settled, it +turned out that she might reckon on an income of about fifty pounds a +year. This was not enough to live on, however modest the household, and +certainly not enough to pay for the colleging of a son. At this point +an uncle of hers stepped forward with a proposal. He was a well-to-do +bachelor, alone in the world, and he invited my mother to live with him +and take care of his house. For myself he proposed a post in some +mercantile concern, for he had much influence in the circles of +commerce. There was nothing for it but to accept gratefully. We sold +our few household goods, and moved to his gloomy house in Dundas +Street. A few days later he announced at dinner that he had found for +me a chance which might lead to better things. + +“You see, Davie,” he explained, “you don’t know the rudiments of +business life. There’s no house in the country that would take you in +except as a common clerk, and you would never earn much more than a +hundred pounds a year all your days. If you want to better your future +you must go abroad, where white men are at a premium. By the mercy of +Providence I met yesterday an old friend, Thomas Mackenzie, who was +seeing his lawyer about an estate he is bidding for. He is the head of +one of the biggest trading and shipping concerns in the +world—Mackenzie, Mure, and Oldmeadows—you may have heard the name. +Among other things he has half the stores in South Africa, where they +sell everything from Bibles to fish-hooks. Apparently they like men +from home to manage the stores, and to make a long story short, when I +put your case to him, he promised you a place. I had a wire from him +this morning confirming the offer. You are to be assistant storekeeper +at—” (my uncle fumbled in his pocket, and then read from the yellow +slip) “at Blaauwildebeestefontein. There’s a mouthful for you.” + +In this homely way I first heard of a place which was to be the theatre +of so many strange doings. + +“It’s a fine chance for you,” my uncle continued. “You’ll only be +assistant at first, but when you have learned your job you’ll have a +store of your own. Mackenzie’s people will pay you three hundred pounds +a year, and when you get a store you’ll get a percentage on sales. It +lies with you to open up new trade among the natives. I hear that +Blaauw—something or other, is in the far north of the Transvaal, and I +see from the map that it is in a wild, hilly country. You may find gold +or diamonds up there, and come back and buy Portincross House.” My +uncle rubbed his hands and smiled cheerily. + +Truth to tell I was both pleased and sad. If a learned profession was +denied me I vastly preferred a veld store to an Edinburgh office stool. +Had I not been still under the shadow of my father’s death I might have +welcomed the chance of new lands and new folk. As it was, I felt the +loneliness of an exile. That afternoon I walked on the Braid Hills, and +when I saw in the clear spring sunlight the coast of Fife, and +remembered Kirkcaple and my boyish days, I could have found it in me to +sit down and cry. + +A fortnight later I sailed. My mother bade me a tearful farewell, and +my uncle, besides buying me an outfit and paying my passage money, gave +me a present of twenty sovereigns. “You’ll not be your mother’s son, +Davie,” were his last words, “if you don’t come home with it multiplied +by a thousand.” I thought at the time that I would give more than +twenty thousand pounds to be allowed to bide on the windy shores of +Forth. + +I sailed from Southampton by an intermediate steamer, and went steerage +to save expense. Happily my acute homesickness was soon forgotten in +another kind of malady. It blew half a gale before we were out of the +Channel, and by the time we had rounded Ushant it was as dirty weather +as ever I hope to see. I lay mortal sick in my bunk, unable to bear the +thought of food, and too feeble to lift my head. I wished I had never +left home, but so acute was my sickness that if some one had there and +then offered me a passage back or an immediate landing on shore I +should have chosen the latter. + +It was not till we got into the fair-weather seas around Madeira that I +recovered enough to sit on deck and observe my fellow-passengers. There +were some fifty of us in the steerage, mostly wives and children going +to join relations, with a few emigrant artisans and farmers. I early +found a friend in a little man with a yellow beard and spectacles, who +sat down beside me and remarked on the weather in a strong Scotch +accent. He turned out to be a Mr Wardlaw from Aberdeen, who was going +out to be a schoolmaster. He was a man of good education, who had taken +a university degree, and had taught for some years as an under-master +in a school in his native town. But the east winds had damaged his +lungs, and he had been glad to take the chance of a poorly paid country +school in the veld. When I asked him where he was going I was amazed to +be told, “Blaauwildebeestefontein.” + +Mr Wardlaw was a pleasant little man, with a sharp tongue but a +cheerful temper. He laboured all day at primers of the Dutch and Kaffir +languages, but in the evening after supper he would walk with me on the +after-deck and discuss the future. Like me, he knew nothing of the land +he was going to, but he was insatiably curious, and he affected me with +his interest. “This place, Blaauwildebeestefontein,” he used to say, +“is among the Zoutpansberg mountains, and as far as I can see, not +above ninety miles from the railroad. It looks from the map a +well-watered country, and the Agent-General in London told me it was +healthy or I wouldn’t have taken the job. It seems we’ll be in the +heart of native reserves up there, for here’s a list of chiefs—”Mpefu, +Sikitola, Majinje, Magata; and there are no white men living to the +east of us because of the fever. The name means the ‘spring of the blue +wildebeeste,’ whatever fearsome animal that may be. It sounds like a +place for adventure, Mr Crawfurd. You’ll exploit the pockets of the +black men and I’ll see what I can do with their minds.” There was +another steerage passenger whom I could not help observing because of +my dislike of his appearance. He, too, was a little man, by name +Henriques, and in looks the most atrocious villain I have ever clapped +eyes on. He had a face the colour of French mustard—a sort of dirty +green—and bloodshot, beady eyes with the whites all yellowed with +fever. He had waxed moustaches, and a curious, furtive way of walking +and looking about him. We of the steerage were careless in our dress, +but he was always clad in immaculate white linen, with pointed, yellow +shoes to match his complexion. He spoke to no one, but smoked long +cheroots all day in the stern of the ship, and studied a greasy +pocket-book. Once I tripped over him in the dark, and he turned on me +with a snarl and an oath. I was short enough with him in return, and he +looked as if he could knife me. + +“I’ll wager that fellow has been a slave-driver in his time,” I told Mr +Wardlaw, who said, “God pity his slaves, then.” + +And now I come to the incident which made the rest of the voyage pass +all too soon for me, and foreshadowed the strange events which were to +come. It was the day after we crossed the Line, and the first-class +passengers were having deck sports. A tug-of-war had been arranged +between the three classes, and a half-dozen of the heaviest fellows in +the steerage, myself included, were invited to join. It was a blazing +hot afternoon, but on the saloon deck there were awnings and a cool +wind blowing from the bows. The first-class beat the second easily, and +after a tremendous struggle beat the steerage also. Then they regaled +us with iced-drinks and cigars to celebrate the victory. + +I was standing at the edge of the crowd of spectators, when my eye +caught a figure which seemed to have little interest in our games. A +large man in clerical clothes was sitting on a deck-chair reading a +book. There was nothing novel about the stranger, and I cannot explain +the impulse which made me wish to see his face. I moved a few steps up +the deck, and then I saw that his skin was black. I went a little +farther, and suddenly he raised his eyes from his book and looked +round. It was the face of the man who had terrified me years ago on the +Kirkcaple shore. + +I spent the rest of the day in a brown study. It was clear to me that +some destiny had prearranged this meeting. Here was this man travelling +prosperously as a first-class passenger with all the appurtenances of +respectability. I alone had seen him invoking strange gods in the +moonlight, I alone knew of the devilry in his heart, and I could not +but believe that some day or other there might be virtue in that +knowledge. + +The second engineer and I had made friends, so I got him to consult the +purser’s list for the name of my acquaintance. He was down as the Rev. +John Laputa, and his destination was Durban. The next day being Sunday, +who should appear to address us steerage passengers but the black +minister. He was introduced by the captain himself, a notably pious +man, who spoke of the labours of his brother in the dark places of +heathendom. Some of us were hurt in our pride in being made the target +of a black man’s oratory. Especially Mr Henriques, whose skin spoke of +the tar-brush, protested with oaths against the insult. Finally he sat +down on a coil of rope, and spat scornfully in the vicinity of the +preacher. + +For myself I was intensely curious, and not a little impressed. The +man’s face was as commanding as his figure, and his voice was the most +wonderful thing that ever came out of human mouth. It was full and +rich, and gentle, with the tones of a great organ. He had none of the +squat and preposterous negro lineaments, but a hawk nose like an Arab, +dark flashing eyes, and a cruel and resolute mouth. He was black as my +hat, but for the rest he might have sat for a figure of a Crusader. I +do not know what the sermon was about, though others told me that it +was excellent. All the time I watched him, and kept saying to myself, +“You hunted me up the Dyve Burn, but I bashed your face for you.” +Indeed, I thought I could see faint scars on his cheek. + +The following night I had toothache, and could not sleep. It was too +hot to breathe under cover, so I got up, lit a pipe, and walked on the +after-deck to ease the pain. The air was very still, save for the whish +of water from the screws and the steady beat of the engines. Above, a +great yellow moon looked down on me, and a host of pale stars. + +The moonlight set me remembering the old affair of the Dyve Burn, and +my mind began to run on the Rev. John Laputa. It pleased me to think +that I was on the track of some mystery of which I alone had the clue. +I promised myself to search out the antecedents of the minister when I +got to Durban, for I had a married cousin there, who might know +something of his doings. Then, as I passed by the companion-way to the +lower deck, I heard voices, and peeping over the rail, I saw two men +sitting in the shadow just beyond the hatch of the hold. + +I thought they might be two of the sailors seeking coolness on the open +deck, when something in the figure of one of them made me look again. +The next second I had slipped back and stolen across the after-deck to +a point just above them. For the two were the black minister and that +ugly yellow villain, Henriques. + +I had no scruples about eavesdropping, but I could make nothing of +their talk. They spoke low, and in some tongue which may have been +Kaffir or Portuguese, but was in any case unknown to me. I lay, cramped +and eager, for many minutes, and was just getting sick of it when a +familiar name caught my ear. Henriques said something in which I caught +the word “Blaauwildebeestefontein.” I listened intently, and there +could be no mistake. The minister repeated the name, and for the next +few minutes it recurred often in their talk. I went back stealthily to +bed, having something to make me forget my aching tooth. First of all, +Laputa and Henriques were allies. Second, the place I was bound for had +something to do with their schemes. + +I said nothing to Mr Wardlaw, but spent the next week in the assiduous +toil of the amateur detective. I procured some maps and books from my +friend, the second engineer, and read all I could about +Blaauwildebeestefontein. Not that there was much to learn; but I +remember I had quite a thrill when I discovered from the chart of the +ship’s run one day that we were in the same latitude as that +uncouthly-named spot. I found out nothing, however, about Henriques or +the Rev. John Laputa. The Portuguese still smoked in the stern, and +thumbed his greasy notebook; the minister sat in his deck-chair, and +read heavy volumes from the ship’s library. Though I watched every +night, I never found them again together. + +At Cape Town Henriques went ashore and did not return. The minister did +not budge from the ship the three days we lay in port, and, indeed, it +seemed to me that he kept his cabin. At any rate I did not see his +great figure on deck till we were tossing in the choppy seas round Cape +Agulhas. Sea-sickness again attacked me, and with short lulls during +our stoppages at Port Elizabeth and East London, I lay wretchedly in my +bunk till we sighted the bluffs of Durban harbour. + +Here it was necessary for me to change my ship, for in the interests of +economy I was going by sea to Delagoa Bay, and thence by the cheap +railway journey into the Transvaal. I sought out my cousin, who lived +in a fine house on the Berea, and found a comfortable lodging for the +three days of my stay there. I made inquiries about Mr Laputa, but +could hear nothing. There was no native minister of that name, said my +cousin, who was a great authority on all native questions. I described +the man, but got no further light. No one had seen or heard of such a +being, “unless,” said my cousin, “he is one of those American Ethiopian +rascals.” + +My second task was to see the Durban manager of the firm which I had +undertaken to serve. He was a certain Mr Colles, a big fat man, who +welcomed me in his shirt-sleeves, with a cigar in his mouth. He +received me pleasantly, and took me home to dinner with him. + +“Mr Mackenzie has written about you,” he said. “I’ll be quite frank +with you, Mr Crawfurd. The firm is not exactly satisfied about the way +business has been going lately at Blaauwildebeestefontein. There’s a +grand country up there, and a grand opportunity for the man who can +take it. Japp, who is in charge, is an old man now and past his best, +but he has been long with the firm, and we don’t want to hurt his +feelings. When he goes, which must be pretty soon, you’ll have a good +chance of the place, if you show yourself an active young fellow.” + +He told me a great deal more about Blaauwildebeestefontein, principally +trading details. Incidentally he let drop that Mr Japp had had several +assistants in the last few years. I asked him why they had left, and he +hesitated. + +“It’s a lonely place, and they didn’t like the life. You see, there are +few white men near, and young fellows want society. They complained, +and were moved on. But the firm didn’t think the more of them.” + +I told him I had come out with the new schoolmaster. + +“Yes,” he said reflectively, “the school. That’s been vacant pretty +often lately. What sort of fellow is this Wardlaw? Will he stay, I +wonder?” + +“From all accounts,” I said, “Blaauwildebeestefontein does not seem +popular.” + +“It isn’t. That’s why we’ve got you out from home. The colonial-born +doesn’t find it fit in with his idea of comfort. He wants society, and +he doesn’t like too many natives. There’s nothing up there but natives +and a few back-veld Dutchmen with native blood in them. You fellows +from home are less set on an easy life, or you wouldn’t be here.” + +There was something in Mr Colles’s tone which made me risk another +question. + +“What’s the matter with the place? There must be more wrong with it +than loneliness to make everybody clear out. I have taken on this job, +and I mean to stick to it, so you needn’t be afraid to tell me.” + +The manager looked at me sharply. “That’s the way to talk, my lad. You +look as if you had a stiff back, so I’ll be frank with you. There is +something about the place. It gives the ordinary man the jumps. What it +is, I don’t know, and the men who come back don’t know themselves. I +want you to find out for me. You’ll be doing the firm an enormous +service if you can get on the track of it. It may be the natives, or it +may be the takhaars, or it may be something else. Only old Japp can +stick it out, and he’s too old and doddering to care about moving. I +want you to keep your eyes skinned, and write privately to me if you +want any help. You’re not out here for your health, I can see, and +here’s a chance for you to get your foot on the ladder. + +“Remember, I’m your friend,” he said to me again at the garden gate. +“Take my advice and lie very low. Don’t talk, don’t meddle with drink, +learn all you can of the native jabber, but don’t let on you understand +a word. You’re sure to get on the track of something. Good-bye, my +boy,” and he waved a fat hand to me. + +That night I embarked on a cargo-boat which was going round the coast +to Delagoa Bay. It is a small world—at least for us far-wandering +Scots. For who should I find when I got on board but my old friend Tam +Dyke, who was second mate on the vessel? We wrung each other’s hands, +and I answered, as best I could, his questions about Kirkcaple. I had +supper with him in the cabin, and went on deck to see the moorings +cast. + +Suddenly there was a bustle on the quay, and a big man with a handbag +forced his way up the gangway. The men who were getting ready to cast +off tried to stop him, but he elbowed his way forward, declaring he +must see the captain. Tam went up to him and asked civilly if he had a +passage taken. He admitted he had not, but said he would make it right +in two minutes with the captain himself. The Rev. John Laputa, for some +reason of his own, was leaving Durban with more haste than he had +entered it. + +I do not know what passed with the captain, but the minister got his +passage right enough, and Tam was even turned out of his cabin to make +room for him. This annoyed my friend intensely. + +“That black brute must be made of money, for he paid through the nose +for this, or I’m a Dutchman. My old man doesn’t take to his black +brethren any more than I do. Hang it all, what are we coming to, when +we’re turning into a blooming cargo boat for niggers?” + +I had all too little of Tam’s good company, for on the afternoon of the +second day we reached the little town of Lourenco Marques. This was my +final landing in Africa, and I mind how eagerly I looked at the low, +green shores and the bush-covered slopes of the mainland. We were +landed from boats while the ship lay out in the bay, and Tam came +ashore with me to spend the evening. By this time I had lost every +remnant of homesickness. I had got a job before me which promised +better things than colleging at Edinburgh, and I was as keen to get up +country now as I had been loth to leave England. My mind being full of +mysteries, I scanned every Portuguese loafer on the quay as if he had +been a spy, and when Tam and I had had a bottle of Collates in a cafe I +felt that at last I had got to foreign parts and a new world. + +Tam took me to supper with a friend of his, a Scot by the name of +Aitken, who was landing-agent for some big mining house on the Rand. He +hailed from Fife and gave me a hearty welcome, for he had heard my +father preach in his young days. Aitken was a strong, broad-shouldered +fellow who had been a sergeant in the Gordons, and during the war he +had done secret-service work in Delagoa. He had hunted, too, and traded +up and down Mozambique, and knew every dialect of the Kaffirs. He asked +me where I was bound for, and when I told him there was the same look +in his eyes as I had seen with the Durban manager. + +“You’re going to a rum place, Mr Crawfurd,” he said. + +“So I’m told. Do you know anything about it? You’re not the first who +has looked queer when I’ve spoken the name.” + +“I’ve never been there,” he said, “though I’ve been pretty near it from +the Portuguese side. That’s the funny thing about +Blaauwildebeestefontein. Everybody has heard of it, and nobody knows +it.” + +“I wish you would tell me what you have heard.” + +“Well, the natives are queer up thereaways. There’s some kind of a holy +place which every Kaffir from Algoa Bay to the Zambesi and away beyond +knows about. When I’ve been hunting in the bush-veld I’ve often met +strings of Kaffirs from hundreds of miles distant, and they’ve all been +going or coming from Blaauwildebeestefontein. It’s like Mecca to the +Mohammedans, a place they go to on pilgrimage. I’ve heard of an old man +up there who is believed to be two hundred years old. Anyway, there’s +some sort of great witch or wizard living in the mountains.” + +Aitken smoked in silence for a time; then he said, “I’ll tell you +another thing. I believe there’s a diamond mine. I’ve often meant to go +up and look for it.” + +Tam and I pressed him to explain, which he did slowly after his +fashion. + +“Did you ever hear of I.D.B.—illicit diamond broking?” he asked me. +“Well, it’s notorious that the Kaffirs on the diamond fields get away +with a fair number of stones, and they are bought by Jew and Portuguese +traders. It’s against the law to deal in them, and when I was in the +intelligence here we used to have a lot of trouble with the vermin. But +I discovered that most of the stones came from natives in one part of +the country—more or less round Blaauwildebeestefontein—and I see no +reason to think that they had all been stolen from Kimberley or the +Premier. Indeed some of the stones I got hold of were quite different +from any I had seen in South Africa before. I shouldn’t wonder if the +Kaffirs in the Zoutpansberg had struck some rich pipe, and had the +sense to keep quiet about it. Maybe some day I’ll take a run up to see +you and look into the matter.” + +After this the talk turned on other topics till Tam, still nursing his +grievance, asked a question on his own account. “Did you ever come +across a great big native parson called Laputa? He came on board as we +were leaving Durban, and I had to turn out of my cabin for him.” Tam +described him accurately but vindictively, and added that “he was sure +he was up to no good.” + +Aitken shook his head. “No, I don’t know the man. You say he landed +here? Well, I’ll keep a look-out for him. Big native parsons are not so +common.” + +Then I asked about Henriques, of whom Tam knew nothing. I described his +face, his clothes, and his habits. Aitken laughed uproariously. + +“Tut, my man, most of the subjects of his Majesty the King of Portugal +would answer to that description. If he’s a rascal, as you think, you +may be certain he’s in the I.D.B. business, and if I’m right about +Blaauwildebeestefontein you’ll likely have news of him there some time +or other. Drop me a line if he comes, and I’ll get on to his record.” + +I saw Tam off in the boat with a fairly satisfied mind. I was going to +a place with a secret, and I meant to find it out. The natives round +Blaauwildebeestefontein were queer, and diamonds were suspected +somewhere in the neighbourhood. + +Henriques had something to do with the place, and so had the Rev. John +Laputa, about whom I knew one strange thing. So did Tam by the way, but +he had not identified his former pursuer, and I had told him nothing. I +was leaving two men behind me, Colles at Durban and Aitken at Lourenco +Marques, who would help me if trouble came. Things were shaping well +for some kind of adventure. + +The talk with Aitken had given Tam an inkling of my thoughts. His last +words to me were an appeal to let him know if there was any fun going. + +“I can see you’re in for a queer job. Promise to let me hear from you +if there’s going to be a row, and I’ll come up country, though I should +have to desert the service. Send us a letter to the agents at Durban in +case we should be in port. You haven’t forgotten the Dyve Burn, Davie?” + + + + +CHAPTER III +BLAAUWILDEBEESTEFONTEIN + + +The Pilgrim’s Progress had been the Sabbath reading of my boyhood, and +as I came in sight of Blaauwildebeestefontein a passage ran in my head. +It was that which tells how Christian and Hopeful, after many perils of +the way, came to the Delectable Mountains, from which they had a +prospect of Canaan. After many dusty miles by rail, and a weariful +journey in a Cape-cart through arid plains and dry and stony gorges, I +had come suddenly into a haven of green. The Spring of the Blue +Wildebeeste was a clear rushing mountain torrent, which swirled over +blue rocks into deep fern-fringed pools. All around was a tableland of +lush grass with marigolds and arum lilies instead of daisies and +buttercups. Thickets of tall trees dotted the hill slopes and patched +the meadows as if some landscape-gardener had been at work on them. +Beyond, the glen fell steeply to the plains, which ran out in a faint +haze to the horizon. To north and south I marked the sweep of the Berg, +now rising high to a rocky peak and now stretching in a level rampart +of blue. On the very edge of the plateau where the road dipped for the +descent stood the shanties of Blaauwildebeestefontein. The fresh hill +air had exhilarated my mind, and the aromatic scent of the evening gave +the last touch of intoxication. Whatever serpent might lurk in it, it +was a veritable Eden I had come to. + +Blaauwildebeestefontein had no more than two buildings of civilized +shape; the store, which stood on the left side of the river, and the +schoolhouse opposite. For the rest, there were some twenty native huts, +higher up the slope, of the type which the Dutch call _rondavels_. The +schoolhouse had a pretty garden, but the store stood bare in a patch of +dust with a few outhouses and sheds beside it. Round the door lay a few +old ploughs and empty barrels, and beneath a solitary blue gum was a +wooden bench with a rough table. Native children played in the dust, +and an old Kaffir squatted by the wall. + +My few belongings were soon lifted from the Cape-cart, and I entered +the shop. It was the ordinary pattern of up-country store—a bar in one +corner with an array of bottles, and all round the walls tins of canned +food and the odds and ends of trade. The place was empty, and a cloud +of flies buzzed over the sugar cask. + +Two doors opened at the back, and I chose the one to the right. I found +myself in a kind of kitchen with a bed in one corner, and a litter of +dirty plates on the table. On the bed lay a man, snoring heavily. I +went close to him, and found an old fellow with a bald head, clothed +only in a shirt and trousers. His face was red and swollen, and his +breath came in heavy grunts. A smell of bad whisky hung over +everything. I had no doubt that this was Mr Peter Japp, my senior in +the store. One reason for the indifferent trade at +Blaauwildebeestefontein was very clear to me: the storekeeper was a +sot. + +I went back to the shop and tried the other door. It was a bedroom too, +but clean and pleasant. A little native girl—Zeeta, I found they called +her—was busy tidying it up, and when I entered she dropped me a curtsy. +“This is your room, Baas,” she said in very good English in reply to my +question. The child had been well trained somewhere, for there was a +cracked dish full of oleander blossom on the drawers’-head, and the +pillow-slips on the bed were as clean as I could wish. She brought me +water to wash, and a cup of strong tea, while I carried my baggage +indoors and paid the driver of the cart. Then, having cleaned myself +and lit a pipe, I walked across the road to see Mr Wardlaw. + +I found the schoolmaster sitting under his own fig-tree reading one of +his Kaffir primers. Having come direct by rail from Cape Town, he had +been a week in the place, and ranked as the second oldest white +resident. + +“Yon’s a bonny chief you’ve got, Davie,” were his first words. “For +three days he’s been as fou as the Baltic.” + +I cannot pretend that the misdeeds of Mr Japp greatly annoyed me. I had +the reversion of his job, and if he chose to play the fool it was all +in my interest. But the schoolmaster was depressed at the prospect of +such company. “Besides you and me, he’s the only white man in the +place. It’s a poor look-out on the social side.” + +The school, it appeared, was the merest farce. There were only five +white children, belonging to Dutch farmers in the mountains. The native +side was more flourishing, but the mission schools at the locations got +most of the native children in the neighbourhood. Mr Wardlaw’s +educational zeal ran high. He talked of establishing a workshop and +teaching carpentry and blacksmith’s work, of which he knew nothing. He +rhapsodized over the intelligence of his pupils and bemoaned his +inadequate gift of tongues. “You and I, Davie,” he said, “must sit down +and grind at the business. It is to the interest of both of us. The +Dutch is easy enough. It’s a sort of kitchen dialect you can learn in a +fortnight. But these native languages are a stiff job. Sesuto is the +chief hereabouts, and I’m told once you’ve got that it’s easy to get +the Zulu. Then there’s the thing the Shangaans speak—Baronga, I think +they call it. I’ve got a Christian Kaffir living up in one of the huts +who comes every morning to talk to me for an hour. You’d better join +me.” + +I promised, and in the sweet-smelling dust crossed the road to the +store. Japp was still sleeping, so I got a bowl of mealie porridge from +Zeeta and went to bed. + +Japp was sober next morning and made me some kind of apology. He had +chronic lumbago, he said, and “to go on the bust” now and then was the +best cure for it. Then he proceeded to initiate me into my duties in a +tone of exaggerated friendliness. “I took a fancy to you the first time +I clapped eyes on you,” he said. “You and me will be good friends, +Crawfurd, I can see that. You’re a spirited young fellow, and you’ll +stand no nonsense. The Dutch about here are a slim lot, and the Kaffirs +are slimmer. Trust no man, that’s my motto. The firm know that, and +I’ve had their confidence for forty years.” + +The first day or two things went well enough. There was no doubt that, +properly handled, a fine trade could be done in +Blaauwildebeestefontein. The countryside was crawling with natives, and +great strings used to come through from Shangaan territory on the way +to the Rand mines. Besides, there was business to be done with the +Dutch farmers, especially with the tobacco, which I foresaw could be +worked up into a profitable export. There was no lack of money either, +and we had to give very little credit, though it was often asked for. I +flung myself into the work, and in a few weeks had been all round the +farms and locations. At first Japp praised my energy, for it left him +plenty of leisure to sit indoors and drink. But soon he grew +suspicious, for he must have seen that I was in a fair way to oust him +altogether. He was very anxious to know if I had seen Colles in Durban, +and what the manager had said. “I have letters,” he told me a hundred +times, “from Mr Mackenzie himself praising me up to the skies. The firm +couldn’t get along without old Peter Japp, I can tell you.” I had no +wish to quarrel with the old man, so I listened politely to all he +said. But this did not propitiate him, and I soon found him so jealous +as to be a nuisance. He was Colonial-born and was always airing the +fact. He rejoiced in my rawness, and when I made a blunder would crow +over it for hours. “It’s no good, Mr Crawfurd; you new chums from +England may think yourselves mighty clever, but we men from the Old +Colony can get ahead of you every time. In fifty years you’ll maybe +learn a little about the country, but we know all about it before we +start.” He roared with laughter at my way of tying a _voorslag_, and he +made merry (no doubt with reason) on my management of a horse. I kept +my temper pretty well, but I own there were moments when I came near to +kicking Mr Japp. + +The truth is he was a disgusting old ruffian. His character was shown +by his treatment of Zeeta. The poor child slaved all day and did two +men’s work in keeping the household going. She was an orphan from a +mission station, and in Japp’s opinion a creature without rights. Hence +he never spoke to her except with a curse, and used to cuff her thin +shoulders till my blood boiled. One day things became too much for my +temper. Zeeta had spilled half a glass of Japp’s whisky while tidying +up the room. He picked up a sjambok, and proceeded to beat her +unmercifully till her cries brought me on the scene. I tore the whip +from his hands, seized him by the scruff and flung him on a heap of +potato sacks, where he lay pouring out abuse and shaking with rage. +Then I spoke my mind. I told him that if anything of the sort happened +again I would report it at once to Mr Colles at Durban. I added that +before making my report I would beat him within an inch of his degraded +life. After a time he apologized, but I could see that thenceforth he +regarded me with deadly hatred. + + There was another thing I noticed about Mr Japp. He might brag about + his knowledge of how to deal with natives, but to my mind his methods + were a disgrace to a white man. Zeeta came in for oaths and blows, but + there were other Kaffirs whom he treated with a sort of cringing + friendliness. A big black fellow would swagger into the shop, and be + received by Japp as if he were his long-lost brother. The two would + collogue for hours; and though at first I did not understand the + tongue, I could see that it was the white man who fawned and the black + man who bullied. Once when Japp was away one of these fellows came + into the store as if it belonged to him, but he went out quicker than + he entered. Japp complained afterwards of my behaviour. “’Mwanga is a + good friend of mine,” he said, “and brings us a lot of business. I’ll + thank you to be civil to him the next time.” I replied very shortly + that ’Mwanga or anybody else who did not mend his manners would feel + the weight of my boot. + +The thing went on, and I am not sure that he did not give the Kaffirs +drink on the sly. At any rate, I have seen some very drunk natives on +the road between the locations and Blaauwildebeestefontein, and some of +them I recognized as Japp’s friends. I discussed the matter with Mr +Wardlaw, who said, “I believe the old villain has got some sort of +black secret, and the natives know it, and have got a pull on him.” And +I was inclined to think he was right. + +By-and-by I began to feel the lack of company, for Wardlaw was so full +of his books that he was of little use as a companion. So I resolved to +acquire a dog, and bought one from a prospector, who was stony-broke +and would have sold his soul for a drink. It was an enormous Boer +hunting-dog, a mongrel in whose blood ran mastiff and bulldog and +foxhound, and Heaven knows what beside. In colour it was a kind of +brindled red, and the hair on its back grew against the lie of the rest +of its coat. Some one had told me, or I may have read it, that a back +like this meant that a dog would face anything mortal, even to a +charging lion, and it was this feature which first caught my fancy. The +price I paid was ten shillings and a pair of boots, which I got at cost +price from stock, and the owner departed with injunctions to me to +beware of the brute’s temper. Colin—for so I named him—began his career +with me by taking the seat out of my breeches and frightening Mr +Wardlaw into a tree. It took me a stubborn battle of a fortnight to +break his vice, and my left arm to-day bears witness to the struggle. +After that he became a second shadow, and woe betide the man who had +dared to raise his hand to Colin’s master. Japp declared that the dog +was a devil, and Colin repaid the compliment with a hearty dislike. + +With Colin, I now took to spending some of my ample leisure in +exploring the fastnesses of the Berg. I had brought out a shot-gun of +my own, and I borrowed a cheap Mauser sporting rifle from the store. I +had been born with a good eye and a steady hand, and very soon I became +a fair shot with a gun and, I believe, a really fine shot with the +rifle. The sides of the Berg were full of quail and partridge and bush +pheasant, and on the grassy plateau there was abundance of a bird not +unlike our own blackcock, which the Dutch called _korhaan_. But the +great sport was to stalk bush-buck in the thickets, which is a game in +which the hunter is at small advantage. I have been knocked down by a +wounded bush-buck ram, and but for Colin might have been badly damaged. +Once, in a kloof not far from the Letaba, I killed a fine leopard, +bringing him down with a single shot from a rocky shelf almost on the +top of Colin. His skin lies by my fireside as I write this tale. But it +was during the days I could spare for an expedition into the plains +that I proved the great qualities of my dog. There we had nobler game +to follow—wildebeest and hartebeest, impala, and now and then a koodoo. +At first I was a complete duffer, and shamed myself in Colin’s eyes. +But by-and-by I learned something of veld-craft: I learned how to +follow spoor, how to allow for the wind, and stalk under cover. Then, +when a shot had crippled the beast, Colin was on its track like a flash +to pull it down. The dog had the nose of a retriever, the speed of a +greyhound, and the strength of a bull-terrier. I blessed the day when +the wandering prospector had passed the store. + +Colin slept at night at the foot of my bed, and it was he who led me to +make an important discovery. For I now became aware that I was being +subjected to constant espionage. It may have been going on from the +start, but it was not till my third month at Blaauwildebeestefontein +that I found it out. One night I was going to bed, when suddenly the +bristles rose on the dog’s back and he barked uneasily at the window. I +had been standing in the shadow, and as I stepped to the window to look +out I saw a black face disappear below the palisade of the backyard. +The incident was trifling, but it put me on my guard. The next night I +looked, but saw nothing. The third night I looked, and caught a glimpse +of a face almost pressed to the pane. Thereafter I put up the shutters +after dark, and shifted my bed to a part of the room out of line with +the window. + +It was the same out of doors. I would suddenly be conscious, as I +walked on the road, that I was being watched. If I made as if to walk +into the roadside bush there would be a faint rustling, which told that +the watcher had retired. The stalking was brilliantly done, for I never +caught a glimpse of one of the stalkers. Wherever I went—on the road, +on the meadows of the plateau, or on the rugged sides of the Berg—it +was the same. I had silent followers, who betrayed themselves now and +then by the crackling of a branch, and eyes were always looking at me +which I could not see. Only when I went down to the plains did the +espionage cease. This thing annoyed Colin desperately, and his walks +abroad were one continuous growl. Once, in spite of my efforts, he +dashed into the thicket, and a squeal of pain followed. He had got +somebody by the leg, and there was blood on the grass. + +Since I came to Blaauwildebeestefontein I had forgotten the mystery I +had set out to track in the excitement of a new life and my sordid +contest with Japp. But now this espionage brought back my old +preoccupation. I was being watched because some person or persons +thought that I was dangerous. My suspicions fastened on Japp, but I +soon gave up that clue. It was my presence in the store that was a +danger to him, not my wanderings about the countryside. It might be +that he had engineered the espionage so as to drive me out of the place +in sheer annoyance; but I flattered myself that Mr Japp knew me too +well to imagine that such a game was likely to succeed. + +The mischief was that I could not make out who the trackers were. I had +visited all the surrounding locations, and was on good enough terms +with all the chiefs. There was ’Mpefu, a dingy old fellow who had spent +a good deal of his life in a Boer gaol before the war. There was a +mission station at his place, and his people seemed to me to be well +behaved and prosperous. Majinje was a chieftainess, a little girl whom +nobody was allowed to see. Her location was a miserable affair, and her +tribe was yearly shrinking in numbers. Then there was Magata farther +north among the mountains. He had no quarrel with me, for he used to +give me a meal when I went out hunting in that direction; and once he +turned out a hundred of his young men, and I had a great battue of wild +dogs. Sikitola, the biggest of all, lived some distance out in the +flats. I knew less about him; but if his men were the trackers, they +must have spent most of their days a weary way from their kraal. The +Kaffirs in the huts at Blaauwildebeestefontein were mostly Christians, +and quiet, decent fellows, who farmed their little gardens, and +certainly preferred me to Japp. I thought at one time of riding into +Pietersdorp to consult the Native Commissioner. But I discovered that +the old man, who knew the country, was gone, and that his successor was +a young fellow from Rhodesia, who knew nothing about anything. Besides, +the natives round Blaauwildebeestefontein were well conducted, and +received few official visitations. Now and then a couple of Zulu +policemen passed in pursuit of some minor malefactor, and the collector +came for the hut-tax; but we gave the Government little work, and they +did not trouble their heads about us. + +As I have said, the clues I had brought out with me to +Blaauwildebeestefontein began to occupy my mind again; and the more I +thought of the business the keener I grew. I used to amuse myself with +setting out my various bits of knowledge. There was first of all the +Rev. John Laputa, his doings on the Kirkcaple shore, his talk with +Henriques about Blaauwildebeestefontein, and his strange behaviour at +Durban. Then there was what Colles had told me about the place being +queer, how nobody would stay long either in the store or the +schoolhouse. Then there was my talk with Aitken at Lourenco Marques, +and his story of a great wizard in the neighbourhood to whom all +Kaffirs made pilgrimages, and the suspicion of a diamond pipe. Last and +most important, there was this perpetual spying on myself. It was as +clear as daylight that the place held some secret, and I wondered if +old Japp knew. I was fool enough one day to ask him about diamonds. He +met me with contemptuous laughter. “There’s your ignorant Britisher,” +he cried. “If you had ever been to Kimberley you would know the look of +a diamond country. You’re as likely to find diamonds here as ocean +pearls. But go out and scrape in the spruit if you like; you’ll maybe +find some garnets.” + +I made cautious inquiries, too, chiefly through Mr Wardlaw, who was +becoming a great expert at Kaffir, about the existence of Aitken’s +wizard, but he could get no news. The most he found out was that there +was a good cure for fever among Sikitola’s men, and that Majinje, if +she pleased, could bring rain. + +The upshot of it all was that, after much brooding, I wrote a letter to +Mr Colles, and, to make sure of its going, gave it to a missionary to +post in Pietersdorp. I told him frankly what Aitken had said, and I +also told him about the espionage. I said nothing about old Japp, for, +beast as he was, I did not want him at his age to be without a +livelihood. + + + + +CHAPTER IV +MY JOURNEY TO THE WINTER-VELD + + +A reply came from Colles, addressed not to me but to Japp. It seemed +that the old fellow had once suggested the establishment of a branch +store at a place out in the plains called Umvelos’, and the firm was +now prepared to take up the scheme. Japp was in high good humour, and +showed me the letter. Not a word was said of what I had written about, +only the bare details about starting the branch. I was to get a couple +of masons, load up two wagons with bricks and timber, and go down to +Umvelos’ and see the store built. The stocking of it and the +appointment of a storekeeper would be matter for further +correspondence. Japp was delighted, for, besides getting rid of me for +several weeks, it showed that his advice was respected by his +superiors. He went about bragging that the firm could not get on +without him, and was inclined to be more insolent to me than usual in +his new self-esteem. He also got royally drunk over the head of it. + +I confess I was hurt by the manager’s silence on what seemed to me more +vital matters. But I soon reflected that if he wrote at all he would +write direct to me, and I eagerly watched for the post-runner. No +letter came, however, and I was soon too busy with preparations to look +for one. I got the bricks and timber from Pietersdorp, and hired two +Dutch masons to run the job. The place was not very far from Sikitola’s +kraal, so there would be no difficulty about native helpers. Having my +eyes open for trade, I resolved to kill two birds with one stone. It +was the fashion among the old-fashioned farmers on the high-veld to +drive the cattle down into the bush-veld—which they call the +winter-veld—for winter pasture. There is no fear of red-water about +that season, and the grass of the plains is rich and thick compared +with the uplands. I discovered that some big droves were passing on a +certain day, and that the owners and their families were travelling +with them in wagons. Accordingly I had a light _naachtmaal_ fitted up +as a sort of travelling store, and with my two wagons full of building +material joined the caravan. I hoped to do good trade in selling little +luxuries to the farmers on the road and at Umvelos’. + +It was a clear cold morning when we started down the Berg. At first my +hands were full with the job of getting my heavy wagons down the +awesome precipice which did duty as a highway. We locked the wheels +with chains, and tied great logs of wood behind to act as brakes. +Happily my drivers knew their business, but one of the Boer wagons got +a wheel over the edge, and it was all that ten men could do to get it +back again. + +After that the road was easier, winding down the side of a slowly +opening glen. I rode beside the wagons, and so heavenly was the weather +that I was content with my own thoughts. The sky was clear blue, the +air warm, yet with a wintry tonic in it, and a thousand aromatic scents +came out of the thickets. The pied birds called “Kaffir queens” +fluttered across the path. Below, the Klein Labongo churned and foamed +in a hundred cascades. Its waters were no more the clear grey of the +“Blue Wildebeeste’s Spring,” but growing muddy with its approach to the +richer soil of the plains. + +Oxen travel slow, and we outspanned that night half a day’s march short +of Umvelos’. I spent the hour before sunset lounging and smoking with +the Dutch farmers. At first they had been silent and suspicious of a +newcomer, but by this time I talked their taal fluently, and we were +soon on good terms. I recall a discussion arising about a black thing +in a tree about five hundred yards away. I thought it was an aasvogel, +but another thought it was a baboon. Whereupon the oldest of the party, +a farmer called Coetzee, whipped up his rifle and, apparently without +sighting, fired. A dark object fell out of the branch, and when we +reached it we found it a _baviaan_[1] sure enough, shot through the +head. “Which side are you on in the next war?” the old man asked me, +and, laughing, I told him “Yours.” + +After supper, the ingredients of which came largely from my +_naachtmaal_, we sat smoking and talking round the fire, the women and +children being snug in the covered wagons. The Boers were honest +companionable fellows, and when I had made a bowl of toddy in the +Scotch fashion to keep out the evening chill, we all became excellent +friends. They asked me how I got on with Japp. Old Coetzee saved me the +trouble of answering, for he broke in with _Skellum_! _Skellum_![2] I +asked him his objection to the storekeeper, but he would say nothing +beyond that he was too thick with the natives. I fancy at some time Mr +Japp had sold him a bad plough. + +We spoke of hunting, and I heard long tales of exploits—away on the +Limpopo, in Mashonaland, on the Sabi and in the Lebombo. Then we verged +on politics, and I listened to violent denunciations of the new land +tax. These were old residenters, I reflected, and I might learn perhaps +something of value. So very carefully I repeated a tale I said I had +heard at Durban of a great wizard somewhere in the Berg, and asked if +any one knew of it. They shook their heads. The natives had given up +witchcraft and big medicine, they said, and were more afraid of a +parson or a policeman than any witch-doctor. Then they were starting on +reminiscences, when old Coetzee, who was deaf, broke in and asked to +have my question repeated. + +“Yes,” he said, “I know. It is in the Rooirand. There is a devil dwells +there.” + +I could get no more out of him beyond the fact that there was certainly +a great devil there. His grandfather and father had seen it, and he +himself had heard it roaring when he had gone there as a boy to hunt. +He would explain no further, and went to bed. + +Next morning, close to Sikitola’s kraal, I bade the farmers good-bye, +after telling them that there would be a store in my wagon for three +weeks at Umvelos’ if they wanted supplies. We then struck more to the +north towards our destination. As soon as they had gone I had out my +map and searched it for the name old Coetzee had mentioned. It was a +very bad map, for there had been no surveying east of the Berg, and +most of the names were mere guesses. But I found the word “Rooirand” +marking an eastern continuation of the northern wall, and probably set +down from some hunter’s report. I had better explain here the chief +features of the country, for they bulk largely in my story. The Berg +runs north and south, and from it run the chief streams which water the +plain. They are, beginning from the south, the Olifants, the Groot +Letaba, the Letsitela, the Klein Letaba, and the Klein Labongo, on +which stands Blaauwildebeestefontein. But the greatest river of the +plain, into which the others ultimately flow, is the Groot Labongo, +which appears full-born from some subterranean source close to the +place called Umvelos’. North from Blaauwildebeestefontein the Berg runs +for some twenty miles, and then makes a sharp turn eastward, becoming, +according to my map, the Rooirand. + +I pored over these details, and was particularly curious about the +Great Labongo. It seemed to me unlikely that a spring in the bush could +produce so great a river, and I decided that its source must lie in the +mountains to the north. As well as I could guess, the Rooirand, the +nearest part of the Berg, was about thirty miles distant. Old Coetzee +had said that there was a devil in the place, but I thought that if it +were explored the first thing found would be a fine stream of water. + +We got to Umvelos’ after midday, and outspanned for our three weeks’ +work. I set the Dutchmen to unload and clear the ground for +foundations, while I went off to Sikitola to ask for labourers. I got a +dozen lusty blacks, and soon we had a business-like encampment, and the +work went on merrily. It was rough architecture and rougher masonry. +All we aimed at was a two-roomed shop with a kind of outhouse for +stores. I was architect, and watched the marking out of the foundations +and the first few feet of the walls. Sikitola’s people proved +themselves good helpers, and most of the building was left to them, +while the Dutchmen worked at the carpentry. Bricks ran short before we +got very far, and we had to set to brick-making on the bank of the +Labongo, and finish off the walls with green bricks, which gave the +place a queer piebald look. + +I was not much of a carpenter, and there were plenty of builders +without me, so I found a considerable amount of time on my hands. At +first I acted as shopkeeper in the _naachtmaal_, but I soon cleared out +my stores to the Dutch farmers and the natives. I had thought of going +back for more, and then it occurred to me that I might profitably give +some of my leisure to the Rooirand. I could see the wall of the +mountains quite clear to the north, within an easy day’s ride. So one +morning I packed enough food for a day or two, tied my sleeping-bag on +my saddle, and set off to explore, after appointing the elder of the +Dutchmen foreman of the job in my absence. + +It was very hot jogging along the native path with the eternal +olive-green bush around me. Happily there was no fear of losing the +way, for the Rooirand stood very clear in front, and slowly, as I +advanced, I began to make out the details of the cliffs. At +luncheon-time, when I was about half-way, I sat down with my Zeiss +glass—my mother’s farewell gift—to look for the valley. But valley I +saw none. The wall—reddish purple it looked, and, I thought, of +porphyry—was continuous and unbroken. There were chimneys and fissures, +but none great enough to hold a river. The top was sheer cliff; then +came loose kranzes in tiers, like the seats in a gallery, and, below, a +dense thicket of trees. I raked the whole line for a break, but there +seemed none. “It’s a bad job for me,” I thought, “if there is no water, +for I must pass the night there.” The night was spent in a sheltered +nook at the foot of the rocks, but my horse and I went to bed without a +drink. My supper was some raisins and biscuits, for I did not dare to +run the risk of increasing my thirst. I had found a great bank of +_débris_ sloping up to the kranzes, and thick wood clothing all the +slope. The grass seemed wonderfully fresh, but of water there was no +sign. There was not even the sandy channel of a stream to dig in. + +In the morning I had a difficult problem to face. Water I must find at +all costs, or I must go home. There was time enough for me to get back +without suffering much, but if so I must give up my explorations. This +I was determined not to do. The more I looked at these red cliffs the +more eager I was to find out their secret. There must be water +somewhere; otherwise how account for the lushness of the vegetation? + +My horse was a veld pony, so I set him loose to see what he would do. +He strayed back on the path to Umvelos’. This looked bad, for it meant +that he did not smell water along the cliff front. If I was to find a +stream it must be on the top, and I must try a little mountaineering. + +Then, taking my courage in both my hands, I decided. I gave my pony a +cut, and set him off on the homeward road. I knew he was safe to get +back in four or five hours, and in broad day there was little fear of +wild beasts attacking him. I had tied my sleeping bag on to the saddle, +and had with me but two pocketfuls of food. I had also fastened on the +saddle a letter to my Dutch foreman, bidding him send a native with a +spare horse to fetch me by the evening. Then I started off to look for +a chimney. + +A boyhood spent on the cliffs at Kirkcaple had made me a bold cragsman, +and the porphyry of the Rooirand clearly gave excellent holds. But I +walked many weary miles along the cliff-foot before I found a feasible +road. To begin with, it was no light task to fight one’s way through +the dense undergrowth of the lower slopes. Every kind of thorn-bush lay +in wait for my skin, creepers tripped me up, high trees shut out the +light, and I was in constant fear lest a black _mamba_ might appear out +of the tangle. It grew very hot, and the screes above the thicket were +blistering to the touch. My tongue, too, stuck to the roof of my mouth +with thirst. + +The first chimney I tried ran out on the face into nothingness, and I +had to make a dangerous descent. The second was a deep gully, but so +choked with rubble that after nearly braining myself I desisted. Still +going eastwards, I found a sloping ledge which took me to a platform +from which ran a crack with a little tree growing in it. My glass +showed me that beyond this tree the crack broadened into a clearly +defined chimney which led to the top. If I can once reach that tree, I +thought, the battle is won. The crack was only a few inches wide, large +enough to let in an arm and a foot, and it ran slantwise up a +perpendicular rock. I do not think I realized how bad it was till I had +gone too far to return. Then my foot jammed, and I paused for breath +with my legs and arms cramping rapidly. I remember that I looked to the +west, and saw through the sweat which kept dropping into my eyes that +about half a mile off a piece of cliff which looked unbroken from the +foot had a fold in it to the right. The darkness of the fold showed me +that it was a deep, narrow gully. However, I had no time to think of +this, for I was fast in the middle of my confounded crack. With immense +labour I found a chockstone above my head, and managed to force my foot +free. The next few yards were not so difficult, and then I stuck once +more. + +For the crack suddenly grew shallow as the cliff bulged out above me. I +had almost given up hope, when I saw that about three feet above my +head grew the tree. If I could reach it and swing out I might hope to +pull myself up to the ledge on which it grew. I confess it needed all +my courage, for I did not know but that the tree might be loose, and +that it and I might go rattling down four hundred feet. It was my only +hope, however, so I set my teeth, and wriggling up a few inches, made a +grab at it. Thank God it held, and with a great effort I pulled my +shoulder over the ledge, and breathed freely. + +My difficulties were not ended, but the worst was past. The rest of the +gully gave me good and safe climbing, and presently a very limp and +weary figure lay on the cliff-top. It took me many minutes to get back +my breath and to conquer the faintness which seized me as soon as the +need for exertion was over. + +When I scrambled to my feet and looked round, I saw a wonderful +prospect. It was a plateau like the high-veld, only covered with +bracken and little bushes like hazels. Three or four miles off the +ground rose, and a shallow vale opened. But in the foreground, half a +mile or so distant, a lake lay gleaming in the sun. + +I could scarcely believe my eyes as I ran towards it, and doubts of a +mirage haunted me. But it was no mirage, but a real lake, perhaps three +miles in circumference, with bracken-fringed banks, a shore of white +pebbles, and clear deep blue water. I drank my fill, and then stripped +and swam in the blessed coolness. After that I ate some luncheon, and +sunned myself on a flat rock. “I have discovered the source of the +Labongo,” I said to myself. “I will write to the Royal Geographical +Society, and they will give me a medal.” + +I walked round the lake to look for an outlet. A fine mountain stream +came in at the north end, and at the south end, sure enough, a +considerable river debauched. My exploring zeal redoubled, and I +followed its course in a delirium of expectation. It was a noble +stream, clear as crystal, and very unlike the muddy tropical Labongo at +Umvelos’. Suddenly, about a quarter of a mile from the lake, the land +seemed to grow over it, and with a swirl and a hollow roar, it +disappeared into a mighty pot-hole. I walked a few steps on, and from +below my feet came the most uncanny rumbling and groaning. Then I knew +what old Coetzee’s devil was that howled in the Rooirand. + +Had I continued my walk to the edge of the cliff, I might have learned +a secret which would have stood me in good stead later. But the descent +began to make me anxious, and I retraced my steps to the top of the +chimney whence I had come. I was resolved that nothing would make me +descend by that awesome crack, so I kept on eastward along the top to +look for a better way. I found one about a mile farther on, which, +though far from easy, had no special risks save from the appalling +looseness of the _débris_. When I got down at length, I found that it +was near sunset. I went to the place I had bidden my native look for me +at, but, as I had feared, there was no sign of him. So, making the best +of a bad job, I had supper and a pipe, and spent a very chilly night in +a hole among the boulders. + +I got up at dawn stiff and cold, and ate a few raisins for breakfast. +There was no sign of horses, so I resolved to fill up the time in +looking for the fold of the cliff which, as I had seen from the +horrible crack of yesterday, contained a gully. It was a difficult job, +for to get the sidelong view of the cliff I had to scramble through the +undergrowth of the slopes again, and even a certain way up the kranzes. +At length I got my bearings, and fixed the place by some tall trees in +the bush. Then I descended and walked westwards. + +Suddenly, as I neared the place, I heard the strangest sound coming +from the rocks. It was a deep muffled groaning, so eerie and unearthly +that for the moment I stood and shivered. Then I remembered my river of +yesterday. It must be above this place that it descended into the +earth, and in the hush of dawn the sound was naturally louder. No +wonder old Coetzee had been afraid of devils. It reminded me of the +lines in _Marmion_— + +“Diving as if condemned to lave + +Some demon’s subterranean cave, + +Who, prisoned by enchanter’s spell, + +Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell.” + + +While I was standing awestruck at the sound, I observed a figure moving +towards the cliffs. I was well in cover, so I could not have been +noticed. It was a very old man, very tall, but bowed in the shoulders, +who was walking slowly with bent head. He could not have been thirty +yards from me, so I had a clear view of his face. He was a native, but +of a type I had never seen before. A long white beard fell on his +breast, and a magnificent kaross of leopard skin covered his shoulders. +His face was seamed and lined and shrunken, so that he seemed as old as +Time itself. + +Very carefully I crept after him, and found myself opposite the fold +where the gully was. There was a clear path through the jungle, a path +worn smooth by many feet. I followed it through the undergrowth and +over the screes till it turned inside the fold of the gully. And then +it stopped short. I was in a deep cleft, but in front was a slab of +sheer rock. Above, the gully looked darker and deeper, but there was +this great slab to pass. I examined the sides, but they were sheer rock +with no openings. + +Had I had my wits about me, I would have gone back and followed the +spoor, noting where it stopped. But the whole thing looked black magic +to me; my stomach was empty and my enterprise small. Besides, there was +the terrible moaning of the imprisoned river in my ears. I am ashamed +to confess it, but I ran from that gully as if the devil and all his +angels had been following me. Indeed, I did not slacken till I had put +a good mile between me and those uncanny cliffs. After that I set out +to foot it back. If the horses would not come to me I must go to them. + +I walked twenty-five miles in a vile temper, enraged at my Dutchmen, my +natives, and everybody. The truth is, I had been frightened, and my +pride was sore about it. It grew very hot, the sand rose and choked me, +the mopani trees with their dull green wearied me, the “Kaffir queens” +and jays and rollers which flew about the path seemed to be there to +mock me. About half-way home I found a boy and two horses, and roundly +I cursed him. It seemed that my pony had returned right enough, and the +boy had been sent to fetch me. He had got half-way before sunset the +night before, and there he had stayed. I discovered from him that he +was scared to death, and did not dare go any nearer the Rooirand. It +was accursed, he said, for it was an abode of devils, and only wizards +went near it. I was bound to admit to myself that I could not blame +him. At last I had got on the track of something certain about this +mysterious country, and all the way back I wondered if I should have +the courage to follow it up. + +[1] Baboon. + +[2] Schelm: Rascal. + + + + +CHAPTER V +MR WARDLAW HAS A PREMONITION + + +A week later the building job was finished, I locked the door of the +new store, pocketed the key, and we set out for home. Sikitola was +entrusted with the general care of it, and I knew him well enough to be +sure that he would keep his people from doing mischief. I left my empty +wagons to follow at their leisure and rode on, with the result that I +arrived at Blaauwildebeestefontein two days before I was looked for. + +I stabled my horse, and went round to the back to see Colin. (I had +left him at home in case of fights with native dogs, for he was an ill +beast in a crowd.) I found him well and hearty, for Zeeta had been +looking after him. Then some whim seized me to enter the store through +my bedroom window. It was open, and I crawled softly in to find the +room fresh and clean from Zeeta’s care. The door was ajar, and, hearing +voices, I peeped into the shop. + +Japp was sitting on the counter talking in a low voice to a big +native—the same ’Mwanga whom I had bundled out unceremoniously. I +noticed that the outer door giving on the road was shut, a most unusual +thing in the afternoon. Japp had some small objects in his hand, and +the two were evidently arguing about a price. I had no intention at +first of eavesdropping, and was just about to push the door open, when +something in Japp’s face arrested me. He was up to no good, and I +thought it my business to wait. + +The low tones went on for a little, both men talking in Kaffir, and +then Japp lifted up one of the little objects between finger and thumb. +It was a small roundish stone about the size of a bean, but even in +that half light there was a dull lustre in it. + +At that I shoved the door open and went in. Both men started as if they +had been shot. Japp went as white as his mottled face permitted. “What +the—” he gasped, and he dropped the thing he was holding. + +I picked it up, and laid it on the counter. “So,” I said, “diamonds, Mr +Japp. You have found the pipe I was looking for. I congratulate you.” + +My words gave the old ruffian his cue. “Yes, yes,” he said, “I have, or +rather my friend ’Mwanga has. He has just been telling me about it.” + +The Kaffir looked miserably uncomfortable. He shifted from one leg to +the other, casting longing glances at the closed door. + +“I tink I go,” he said. “Afterwards we will speak more.” + +I told him I thought he had better go, and opened the door for him. +Then I bolted it again, and turned to Mr Japp. + +“So that’s your game,” I said. “I thought there was something funny +about you, but I didn’t know it was I.D.B. you were up to.” + +He looked as if he could kill me. For five minutes he cursed me with a +perfection of phrase which I had thought beyond him. It was no I.D.B., +he declared, but a pipe which ’Mwanga had discovered. “In this kind of +country?” I said, quoting his own words. “Why, you might as well expect +to find ocean pearls as diamonds. But scrape in the spruit if you like; +you’ll maybe find some garnets.” + +He choked down his wrath, and tried a new tack. “What will you take to +hold your tongue? I’ll make you a rich man if you’ll come in with me.” +And then he started with offers which showed that he had been making a +good thing out of the traffic. + +I stalked over to him, and took him by the shoulder. “You old +reprobate,” I roared, “if you breathe such a proposal to me again, I’ll +tie you up like a sack and carry you to Pietersdorp.” + +At this he broke down and wept maudlin tears, disgusting to witness. He +said he was an old man who had always lived honestly, and it would +break his heart if his grey hairs were to be disgraced. As he sat +rocking himself with his hands over his face, I saw his wicked little +eyes peering through the slits of his fingers to see what my next move +would be. + +“See here, Mr Japp,” I said, “I’m not a police spy, and it’s no +business of mine to inform against you. I’m willing to keep you out of +gaol, but it must be on my own conditions. The first is that you resign +this job and clear out. You will write to Mr Colles a letter at my +dictation, saying that you find the work too much for you. The second +is that for the time you remain here the diamond business must utterly +cease. If ’Mwanga or anybody like him comes inside the store, and if I +get the slightest hint that you’re back at the trade, in you go to +Pietersdorp. I’m not going to have my name disgraced by being +associated with you. The third condition is that when you leave this +place you go clear away. If you come within twenty miles of +Blaauwildebeestefontein and I find you, I will give you up.” + +He groaned and writhed at my terms, but in the end accepted them. He +wrote the letter, and I posted it. I had no pity for the old scamp, who +had feathered his nest well. Small wonder that the firm’s business was +not as good as it might be, when Japp was giving most of his time to +buying diamonds from native thieves. The secret put him in the power of +any Kaffir who traded him a stone. No wonder he cringed to ruffians +like ’Mwanga. + +The second thing I did was to shift my quarters. Mr Wardlaw had a spare +room which he had offered me before, and now I accepted it. I wanted to +be no more mixed up with Japp than I could help, for I did not know +what villainy he might let me in for. Moreover, I carried Zeeta with +me, being ashamed to leave her at the mercy of the old bully. Japp went +up to the huts and hired a slattern to mind his house, and then drank +heavily for three days to console himself. + +That night I sat smoking with Mr Wardlaw in his sitting-room, where a +welcome fire burned, for the nights on the Berg were chilly. I remember +the occasion well for the queer turn the conversation took. Wardlaw, as +I have said, had been working like a slave at the Kaffir tongues. I +talked a kind of Zulu well enough to make myself understood, and I +could follow it when spoken; but he had real scholarship in the thing, +and knew all about the grammar and the different dialects. Further, he +had read a lot about native history, and was full of the doings of +Tchaka and Mosilikatse and Moshesh, and the kings of old. Having little +to do in the way of teaching, he had made up for it by reading +omnivorously. He used to borrow books from the missionaries, and he +must have spent half his salary in buying new ones. + +To-night as he sat and puffed in his armchair, he was full of stories +about a fellow called Monomotapa. It seems he was a great black emperor +whom the Portuguese discovered about the sixteenth century. He lived to +the north in Mashonaland, and had a mountain full of gold. The +Portuguese did not make much of him, but they got his son and turned +him into a priest. + +I told Wardlaw that he was most likely only a petty chief, whose +exploits were magnified by distance, the same as the caciques in +Mexico. But the schoolmaster would not accept this. + +“He must have been a big man, Davie. You know that the old ruins in +Rhodesia, called Zimbabwe, were long believed to be Phoenician in +origin. I have a book here which tells all about them. But now it is +believed that they were built by natives. I maintain that the men who +could erect piles like that”—and he showed me a picture—”were something +more than petty chiefs.” + +Presently the object of this conversation appeared. Mr Wardlaw thought +that we were underrating the capacity of the native. This opinion was +natural enough in a schoolmaster, but not in the precise form Wardlaw +put it. It was not his intelligence which he thought we underrated, but +his dangerousness. His reasons, shortly, were these: There were five or +six of them to every white man; they were all, roughly speaking, of the +same stock, with the same tribal beliefs; they had only just ceased +being a warrior race, with a powerful military discipline; and, most +important, they lived round the rim of the high-veld plateau, and if +they combined could cut off the white man from the sea. I pointed out +to him that it would only be a matter of time before we opened the road +again. “Ay,” he said, “but think of what would happen before then. +Think of the lonely farms and the little dorps wiped out of the map. It +would be a second and bloodier Indian mutiny. “I’m not saying it’s +likely,” he went on, “but I maintain it’s possible. Supposing a second +Tchaka turned up, who could get the different tribes to work together. +It wouldn’t be so very hard to smuggle in arms. Think of the long, +unwatched coast in Gazaland and Tongaland. If they got a leader with +prestige enough to organize a crusade against the white man, I don’t +see what could prevent a rising.” + +“We should get wind of it in time to crush it at the start,” I said. + +“I’m not so sure. They are cunning fellows, and have arts that we know +nothing about. You have heard of native telepathy. They can send news +over a thousand miles as quick as the telegraph, and we have no means +of tapping the wires. If they ever combined they could keep it as +secret as the grave. My houseboy might be in the rising, and I would +never suspect it till one fine morning he cut my throat.” + +“But they would never find a leader. If there was some exiled prince of +Tchaka’s blood, who came back like Prince Charlie to free his people, +there might be danger; but their royalties are fat men with top hats +and old frock-coats, who live in dirty locations.” + +Wardlaw admitted this, but said that there might be other kinds of +leaders. He had been reading a lot about Ethiopianism, which educated +American negroes had been trying to preach in South Africa. He did not +see why a kind of bastard Christianity should not be the motive of a +rising. “The Kaffir finds it an easy job to mix up Christian emotion +and pagan practice. Look at Hayti and some of the performances in the +Southern States.” + +Then he shook the ashes out of his pipe and leaned forward with a +solemn face. “I’ll admit the truth to you, Davie. I’m black afraid.” + +He looked so earnest and serious sitting there with his short-sighted +eyes peering at me that I could not help being impressed. + +“Whatever is the matter?” I asked. “Has anything happened?” + +He shook his head. “Nothing I can put a name to. But I have a +presentiment that some mischief is afoot in these hills. I feel it in +my bones.” + +I confess I was startled by these words. You must remember that I had +never given a hint of my suspicions to Mr Wardlaw beyond asking him if +a wizard lived in the neighbourhood—a question anybody might have put. +But here was the schoolmaster discovering for himself some mystery in +Blaauwildebeestefontein. + +I tried to get at his evidence, but it was very little. He thought +there were an awful lot of blacks about. “The woods are full of them,” +he said. I gathered he did not imagine he was being spied on, but +merely felt that there were more natives about than could be explained. +“There’s another thing,” he said. “The native bairns have all left the +school. I’ve only three scholars left, and they are from Dutch farms. I +went to Majinje to find out what was up, and an old crone told me the +place was full of bad men. I tell you, Davie, there’s something +brewing, and that something is not good for us.” + +There was nothing new to me in what Wardlaw had to tell, and yet that +talk late at night by a dying fire made me feel afraid for the second +time since I had come to Blaauwildebeestefontein. I had a clue and had +been on the look-out for mysteries, but that another should feel the +strangeness for himself made it seem desperately real to me. Of course +I scoffed at Mr Wardlaw’s fears. I could not have him spoiling all my +plans by crying up a native rising for which he had not a scrap of +evidence. + +“Have you been writing to anybody?” I asked him. + +He said that he had told no one, but he meant to, unless things got +better. “I haven’t the nerve for this job, Davie,” he said; “I’ll have +to resign. And it’s a pity, for the place suits my health fine. You see +I know too much, and I haven’t your whinstone nerve and total lack of +imagination.” + +I told him that it was simply fancy, and came from reading too many +books and taking too little exercise. But I made him promise to say +nothing to anybody either by word of mouth or letter, without telling +me first. Then I made him a rummer of toddy and sent him to bed a +trifle comforted. + +The first thing I did in my new room was to shift the bed into the +corner out of line with the window. There were no shutters, so I put up +an old table-top and jammed it between the window frames. Also, I +loaded my shot-gun and kept it by my bedside. Had Wardlaw seen these +preparations he might have thought more of my imagination and less of +my nerve. It was a real comfort to me to put out a hand in the darkness +and feel Colin’s shaggy coat. + + + + +CHAPTER VI +THE DRUMS BEAT AT SUNSET + + +Japp was drunk for the next day or two, and I had the business of the +store to myself. I was glad of this, for it gave me leisure to reflect +upon the various perplexities of my situation. As I have said, I was +really scared, more out of a sense of impotence than from dread of +actual danger. I was in a fog of uncertainty. Things were happening +around me which I could only dimly guess at, and I had no power to take +one step in defence. That Wardlaw should have felt the same without any +hint from me was the final proof that the mystery was no figment of my +nerves. I had written to Colles and got no answer. Now the letter with +Japp’s resignation in it had gone to Durban. Surely some notice would +be taken of that. If I was given the post, Colles was bound to consider +what I had said in my earlier letter and give me some directions. +Meanwhile it was my business to stick to my job till I was relieved. + +A change had come over the place during my absence. The natives had +almost disappeared from sight. Except the few families living round +Blaauwildebeestefontein one never saw a native on the roads, and none +came into the store. They were sticking close to their locations, or +else they had gone after some distant business. Except a batch of three +Shangaans returning from the Rand, I had nobody in the store for the +whole of one day. So about four o’clock I shut it up, whistled on +Colin, and went for a walk along the Berg. + +If there were no natives on the road, there were plenty in the bush. I +had the impression, of which Wardlaw had spoken, that the native +population of the countryside had suddenly been hugely increased. The +woods were simply _hotching_ with them. I was being spied on as before, +but now there were so many at the business that they could not all +conceal their tracks. Every now and then I had a glimpse of a black +shoulder or leg, and Colin, whom I kept on the leash, was half-mad with +excitement. I had seen all I wanted, and went home with a preoccupied +mind. I sat long on Wardlaw’s garden-seat, trying to puzzle out the +truth of this spying. + +What perplexed me was that I had been left unmolested when I had gone +to Umvelos’. Now, as I conjectured, the secret of the neighbourhood, +whatever it was, was probably connected with the Rooirand. But when I +had ridden in that direction and had spent two days in exploring, no +one had troubled to watch me. I was quite certain about this, for my +eye had grown quick to note espionage, and it is harder for a spy to +hide in the spare bush of the flats than in the dense thickets on these +uplands. + +The watchers, then, did not mind my fossicking round their sacred +place. Why, then, was I so closely watched in the harmless +neighbourhood of the store? I thought for a long time before an answer +occurred to me. The reason must be that going to the plains I was going +into native country and away from civilization. But +Blaauwildebeestefontein was near the frontier. There must be some dark +business brewing of which they may have feared that I had an inkling. +They wanted to see if I proposed to go to Pietersdorp or Wesselsburg +and tell what I knew, and they clearly were resolved that I should not. +I laughed, I remember, thinking that they had forgotten the post-bag. +But then I reflected that I knew nothing of what might be happening +daily to the post-bag. + +When I had reached this conclusion, my first impulse was to test it by +riding straight west on the main road. If I was right, I should +certainly be stopped. On second thoughts, however, this seemed to me to +be flinging up the game prematurely, and I resolved to wait a day or +two before acting. + +Next day nothing happened, save that my sense of loneliness increased. +I felt that I was being hemmed in by barbarism, and cut off in a +ghoulish land from the succour of my own kind. I only kept my courage +up by the necessity of presenting a brave face to Mr Wardlaw, who was +by this time in a very broken condition of nerves. I had often thought +that it was my duty to advise him to leave, and to see him safely off, +but I shrank from severing myself from my only friend. I thought, too, +of the few Dutch farmers within riding distance, and had half a mind to +visit them, but they were far off over the plateau and could know +little of my anxieties. + +The third day events moved faster. Japp was sober and wonderfully +quiet. He gave me good-morning quite in a friendly tone, and set to +posting up the books as if he had never misbehaved in his days. I was +so busy with my thoughts that I, too, must have been gentler than +usual, and the morning passed like a honeymoon, till I went across to +dinner. + +I was just sitting down when I remembered that I had left my watch in +my waistcoat behind the counter, and started to go back for it. But at +the door I stopped short. For two horsemen had drawn up before the +store. + +One was a native with what I took to be saddle-bags; the other was a +small slim man with a sun helmet, who was slowly dismounting. Something +in the cut of his jib struck me as familiar. I slipped into the empty +schoolroom and stared hard. Then, as he half-turned in handing his +bridle to the Kaffir, I got a sight of his face. It was my former +shipmate, Henriques. He said something to his companion, and entered +the store. + +You may imagine that my curiosity ran to fever-heat. My first impulse +was to march over for my waistcoat, and make a third with Japp at the +interview. Happily I reflected in time that Henriques knew my face, for +I had grown no beard, having a great dislike to needless hair. If he +was one of the villains in the drama, he would mark me down for his +vengeance once he knew I was here, whereas at present he had probably +forgotten all about me. Besides, if I walked in boldly I would get no +news. If Japp and he had a secret, they would not blab it in my +presence. + +My next idea was to slip in by the back to the room I had once lived +in. But how was I to cross the road? It ran white and dry some distance +each way in full view of the Kaffir with the horses. Further, the store +stood on a bare patch, and it would be a hard job to get in by the +back, assuming, as I believed, that the neighbourhood was thick with +spies. + +The upshot was that I got my glasses and turned them on the store. The +door was open, and so was the window. In the gloom of the interior I +made out Henriques’ legs. He was standing by the counter, and +apparently talking to Japp. He moved to shut the door, and came back +inside my focus opposite the window. There he stayed for maybe ten +minutes, while I hugged my impatience. I would have given a hundred +pounds to be snug in my old room with Japp thinking me out of the +store. + +Suddenly the legs twitched up, and his boots appeared above the +counter. Japp had invited him to his bedroom, and the game was now to +be played beyond my ken. This was more than I could stand, so I stole +out at the back door and took to the thickest bush on the hillside. My +notion was to cross the road half a mile down, when it had dropped into +the defile of the stream, and then to come swiftly up the edge of the +water so as to effect a back entrance into the store. + +As fast as I dared I tore through the bush, and in about a quarter of +an hour had reached the point I was making for. Then I bore down to the +road, and was in the scrub about ten yards off it, when the clatter of +horses pulled me up again. Peeping out I saw that it was my friend and +his Kaffir follower, who were riding at a very good pace for the +plains. Toilfully and crossly I returned on my tracks to my +long-delayed dinner. Whatever the purport of their talk, Japp and the +Portuguese had not taken long over it. + +In the store that afternoon I said casually to Japp that I had noticed +visitors at the door during my dinner hour. The old man looked me +frankly enough in the face. “Yes, it was Mr Hendricks,” he said, and +explained that the man was a Portuguese trader from Delagoa way, who +had a lot of Kaffir stores east of the Lebombo Hills. I asked his +business, and was told that he always gave Japp a call in when he was +passing. + +“Do you take every man that calls into your bedroom, and shut the +door?” I asked. + +Japp lost colour and his lip trembled. “I swear to God, Mr Crawfurd, +I’ve been doing nothing wrong. I’ve kept the promise I gave you like an +oath to my mother. I see you suspect me, and maybe you’ve cause, but +I’ll be quite honest with you. I have dealt in diamonds before this +with Hendricks. But to-day, when he asked me, I told him that that +business was off. I only took him to my room to give him a drink. He +likes brandy, and there’s no supply in the shop.” + +I distrusted Japp wholeheartedly enough, but I was convinced that in +this case he spoke the truth. “Had the man any news?” I asked. + +“He had and he hadn’t,” said Japp. “He was always a sullen beggar, and +never spoke much. But he said one queer thing. He asked me if I was +going to retire, and when I told him ‘yes,’ he said I had put it off +rather long. I told him I was as healthy as I ever was, and he laughed +in his dirty Portugoose way. ‘Yes, Mr Japp,’ he says, ‘but the country +is not so healthy.’ I wonder what the chap meant. He’ll be dead of +blackwater before many months, to judge by his eyes.” + +This talk satisfied me about Japp, who was clearly in desperate fear of +offending me, and disinclined to return for the present to his old +ways. But I think the rest of the afternoon was the most wretched time +in my existence. It was as plain as daylight that we were in for some +grave trouble, trouble to which I believed that I alone held any kind +of clue. I had a pile of evidence—the visit of Henriques was the last +bit—which pointed to some great secret approaching its disclosure. I +thought that that disclosure meant blood and ruin. But I knew nothing +definite. If the commander of a British army had come to me then and +there and offered help, I could have done nothing, only asked him to +wait like me. The peril, whatever it was, did not threaten me only, +though I and Wardlaw and Japp might be the first to suffer; but I had a +terrible feeling that I alone could do something to ward it off, and +just what that something was I could not tell. I was horribly afraid, +not only of unknown death, but of my impotence to play any manly part. +I was alone, knowing too much and yet too little, and there was no +chance of help under the broad sky. I cursed myself for not writing to +Aitken at Lourenco Marques weeks before. He had promised to come up, +and he was the kind of man who kept his word. + +In the late afternoon I dragged Wardlaw out for a walk. In his presence +I had to keep up a forced cheerfulness, and I believe the pretence did +me good. We took a path up the Berg among groves of stinkwood and +essenwood, where a failing stream made an easy route. It may have been +fancy, but it seemed to me that the wood was emptier and that we were +followed less closely. I remember it was a lovely evening, and in the +clear fragrant gloaming every foreland of the Berg stood out like a +great ship above the dark green sea of the bush. When we reached the +edge of the plateau we saw the sun sinking between two far blue peaks +in Makapan’s country, and away to the south the great roll of the high +veld. I longed miserably for the places where white men were thronged +together in dorps and cities. As we gazed a curious sound struck our +ears. It seemed to begin far up in the north—a low roll like the +combing of breakers on the sand. Then it grew louder and travelled +nearer—a roll, with sudden spasms of harsher sound in it; reminding me +of the churning in one of the pot-holes of Kirkcaple cliffs. Presently +it grew softer again as the sound passed south, but new notes were +always emerging. The echo came sometimes, as it were, from stark rock, +and sometimes from the deep gloom of the forests. I have never heard an +eerier sound. Neither natural nor human it seemed, but the voice of +that world between which is hid from man’s sight and hearing. + +Mr Wardlaw clutched my arm, and in that moment I guessed the +explanation. The native drums were beating, passing some message from +the far north down the line of the Berg, where the locations were +thickest, to the great black population of the south. + +“But that means war,” Mr Wardlaw cried. + +“It means nothing of the kind,” I said shortly. “It’s their way of +sending news. It’s as likely to be some change in the weather or an +outbreak of cattle disease.” + +When we got home I found Japp with a face like grey paper. “Did you +hear the drums?”he asked. + +“Yes,” I said shortly. “What about them?” + +“God forgive you for an ignorant Britisher,” he almost shouted. “You +may hear drums any night, but a drumming like that I only once heard +before. It was in ’79 in the ’Zeti valley. Do you know what happened +next day? Cetewayo’s impis came over the hills, and in an hour there +wasn’t a living white soul in the glen. Two men escaped, and one of +them was called Peter Japp.” + +“We are in God’s hands then, and must wait on His will,” I said +solemnly. + +There was no more sleep for Wardlaw and myself that night. We made the +best barricade we could of the windows, loaded all our weapons, and +trusted to Colin to give us early news. Before supper I went over to +get Japp to join us, but found that that worthy had sought help from +his old protector, the bottle, and was already sound asleep with both +door and window open. + +I had made up my mind that death was certain, and yet my heart belied +my conviction, and I could not feel the appropriate mood. If anything I +was more cheerful since I had heard the drums. It was clearly now +beyond the power of me or any man to stop the march of events. My +thoughts ran on a native rising, and I kept telling myself how little +that was probable. Where were the arms, the leader, the discipline? At +any rate such arguments put me to sleep before dawn, and I wakened at +eight to find that nothing had happened. The clear morning sunlight, as +of old, made Blaauwildebeestefontein the place of a dream. Zeeta +brought in my cup of coffee as if this day were just like all others, +my pipe tasted as sweet, the fresh air from the Berg blew as fragrantly +on my brow. I went over to the store in reasonably good spirits, +leaving Wardlaw busy on the penitential Psalms. + +The post-runner had brought the mail as usual, and there was one +private letter for me. I opened it with great excitement, for the +envelope bore the stamp of the firm. At last Colles had deigned to +answer. + +Inside was a sheet of the firm’s notepaper, with the signature of +Colles across the top. Below some one had pencilled these five words: + +“_The Blesbok[1] are changing ground._” + + +I looked to see that Japp had not suffocated himself, then shut up the +store, and went back to my room to think out this new mystification. + +The thing had come from Colles, for it was the private notepaper of the +Durban office, and there was Colles’ signature. But the pencilling was +in a different hand. My deduction from this was that some one wished to +send me a message, and that Colles had given that some one a sheet of +signed paper to serve as a kind of introduction. I might take it, +therefore, that the scribble was Colles’ reply to my letter. + +Now, my argument continued, if the unknown person saw fit to send me a +message, it could not be merely one of warning. Colles must have told +him that I was awake to some danger, and as I was in +Blaauwildebeestefontein, I must be nearer the heart of things than any +one else. The message must therefore be in the nature of some password, +which I was to remember when I heard it again. + +I reasoned the whole thing out very clearly, and I saw no gap in my +logic. I cannot describe how that scribble had heartened me. I felt no +more the crushing isolation of yesterday. There were others beside me +in the secret. Help must be on the way, and the letter was the first +tidings. + +But how near?—that was the question; and it occurred to me for the +first time to look at the postmark. I went back to the store and got +the envelope out of the waste-paper basket. The postmark was certainly +not Durban. The stamp was a Cape Colony one, and of the mark I could +only read three letters, T. R. S. This was no sort of clue, and I +turned the thing over, completely baffled. Then I noticed that there +was no mark of the post town of delivery. Our letters to +Blaauwildebeestefontein came through Pietersdorp and bore that mark. I +compared the envelope with others. They all had a circle, and +“Pietersdorp” in broad black letters. But this envelope had nothing +except the stamp. + +I was still slow at detective work, and it was some minutes before the +explanation flashed on me. The letter had never been posted at all. The +stamp was a fake, and had been borrowed from an old envelope. There was +only one way in which it could have come. It must have been put in the +letter-bag while the postman was on his way from Pietersdorp. My +unknown friend must therefore be somewhere within eighty miles of me. I +hurried off to look for the post-runner, but he had started back an +hour before. There was nothing for it but to wait on the coming of the +unknown. + +That afternoon I again took Mr Wardlaw for a walk. It is an ingrained +habit of mine that I never tell anyone more of a business than is +practically necessary. For months I had kept all my knowledge to +myself, and breathed not a word to a soul. But I thought it my duty to +tell Wardlaw about the letter, to let him see that we were not +forgotten. I am afraid it did not encourage his mind. Occult messages +seemed to him only the last proof of a deadly danger encompassing us, +and I could not shake his opinion. + +We took the same road to the crown of the Berg, and I was confirmed in +my suspicion that the woods were empty and the watchers gone. The place +was as deserted as the bush at Umvelos’. When we reached the summit +about sunset we waited anxiously for the sound of drums. It came, as we +expected, louder and more menacing than before. Wardlaw stood pinching +my arm as the great tattoo swept down the escarpment, and died away in +the far mountains beyond the Olifants. Yet it no longer seemed to be a +wall of sound, shutting us out from our kindred in the West. A message +had pierced the wall. If the blesbok were changing ground, I believed +that the hunters were calling out their hounds and getting ready for +the chase. + +[1] A species of buck. + + + + +CHAPTER VII +CAPTAIN ARCOLL TELLS A TALE + + +It froze in the night, harder than was common on the Berg even in +winter, and as I crossed the road next morning it was covered with +rime. All my fears had gone, and my mind was strung high with +expectation. Five pencilled words may seem a small thing to build hope +on, but it was enough for me, and I went about my work in the store +with a reasonably light heart. One of the first things I did was to +take stock of our armoury. There were five sporting Mausers of a cheap +make, one Mauser pistol, a Lee-Speed carbine, and a little +nickel-plated revolver. There was also Japp’s shot-gun, an old hammered +breech-loader, as well as the gun I had brought out with me. There was +a good supply of cartridges, including a stock for a .400 express which +could not be found. I pocketed the revolver, and searched till I +discovered a good sheath-knife. If fighting was in prospect I might as +well look to my arms. + +All the morning I sat among flour and sugar possessing my soul in as +much patience as I could command. Nothing came down the white road from +the west. The sun melted the rime; the flies came out and buzzed in the +window; Japp got himself out of bed, brewed strong coffee, and went +back to his slumbers. Presently it was dinner-time, and I went over to +a silent meal with Wardlaw. When I returned I must have fallen asleep +over a pipe, for the next thing I knew I was blinking drowsily at the +patch of sun in the door, and listening for footsteps. In the dead +stillness of the afternoon I thought I could discern a shuffling in the +dust. I got up and looked out, and there, sure enough, was some one +coming down the road. + +But it was only a Kaffir, and a miserable-looking object at that. I had +never seen such an anatomy. It was a very old man, bent almost double, +and clad in a ragged shirt and a pair of foul khaki trousers. He +carried an iron pot, and a few belongings were tied up in a dirty +handkerchief. He must have been a _dacha_[1] smoker, for he coughed +hideously, twisting his body with the paroxysms. I had seen the type +before—the old broken-down native who had no kin to support him, and no +tribe to shelter him. They wander about the roads, cooking their +wretched meals by their little fires, till one morning they are found +stiff under a bush. + +The native gave me a good-day in Kaffir, then begged for tobacco or a +handful of mealie-meal. + +I asked him where he came from. + +“From the west, Inkoos,” he said, “and before that from the south. It +is a sore road for old bones.” + +I went into the store to fetch some meal, and when I came out he had +shuffled close to the door. He had kept his eyes on the ground, but now +he looked up at me, and I thought he had very bright eyes for such an +old wreck. + +“The nights are cold, Inkoos,” he wailed, “and my folk are scattered, +and I have no kraal. The aasvogels follow me, and I can hear the +blesbok.” “What about the blesbok?” I asked with a start. + +“The blesbok are changing ground,” he said, and looked me straight in +the face. + +“And where are the hunters?” I asked. “They are here and behind me,” he +said in English, holding out his pot for my meal, while he began to +edge into the middle of the road. + +I followed, and, speaking English, asked him if he knew of a man named +Colles. + +“I come from him, young Baas. Where is your house? Ah, the school. +There will be a way in by the back window? See that it is open, for +I’ll be there shortly.” Then lifting up his voice he called down in +Sesuto all manner of blessings on me for my kindness, and went +shuffling down the sunlit road, coughing like a volcano. + +In high excitement I locked up the store and went over to Mr Wardlaw. +No children had come to school that day, and he was sitting idle, +playing patience. “Lock the door,” I said, “and come into my room. +We’re on the brink of explanations.” + +In about twenty minutes the bush below the back-window parted and the +Kaffir slipped out. He grinned at me, and after a glance round, hopped +very nimbly over the sill. Then he examined the window and pulled the +curtains. + +“Is the outer door shut?” he asked in excellent English. “Well, get me +some hot water, and any spare clothes you may possess, Mr Crawfurd. I +must get comfortable before we begin our _indaba_.[2] We’ve the night +before us, so there’s plenty of time. But get the house clear, and see +that nobody disturbs me at my toilet. I am a modest man, and sensitive +about my looks.” + +I brought him what he wanted, and looked on at an amazing +transformation. Taking a phial from his bundle, he rubbed some liquid +on his face and neck and hands, and got rid of the black colouring. His +body and legs he left untouched, save that he covered them with shirt +and trousers from my wardrobe. Then he pulled off a scaly wig, and +showed beneath it a head of close-cropped grizzled hair. In ten minutes +the old Kaffir had been transformed into an active soldierly-looking +man of maybe fifty years. Mr Wardlaw stared as if he had seen a +resurrection. + +“I had better introduce myself,” he said, when he had taken the edge +off his thirst and hunger. “My name is Arcoll, Captain James Arcoll. I +am speaking to Mr Crawfurd, the storekeeper, and Mr Wardlaw, the +schoolmaster, of Blaauwildebeestefontein. Where, by the way, is Mr +Peter Japp? Drunk? Ah, yes, it was always his failing. The quorum, +however, is complete without him.” + +By this time it was about sunset, and I remember I cocked my ear to +hear the drums beat. Captain Arcoll noticed the movement as he noticed +all else. “You’re listening for the drums, but you won’t hear them. +That business is over here. To-night they beat in Swaziland and down +into the Tonga border. Three days more, unless you and I, Mr Crawfurd, +are extra smart, and they’ll be hearing them in Durban.” + +It was not till the lamp was lit, the fire burning well, and the house +locked and shuttered, that Captain Arcoll began his tale. + +“First,” he said, “let me hear what you know. Colles told me that you +were a keen fellow, and had wind of some mystery here. You wrote him +about the way you were spied on, but I told him to take no notice. Your +affair, Mr Crawfurd, had to wait on more urgent matters. Now, what do +you think is happening?” I spoke very shortly, weighing my words, for I +felt I was on trial before these bright eyes. “I think that some kind +of native rising is about to commence.” + +“Ay,” he said dryly, “you would, and your evidence would be the spying +and drumming. Anything more?” + +“I have come on the tracks of a lot of I.D.B. work in the +neighbourhood. The natives have some supply of diamonds, which they +sell bit by bit, and I don’t doubt but they have been getting guns with +the proceeds.” + +He nodded, “Have you any notion who has been engaged in the job?” + +I had it on my tongue to mention Japp, but forbore, remembering my +promise. “I can name one,” I said, “a little yellow Portugoose, who +calls himself Henriques or Hendricks. He passed by here the day before +yesterday.” + +Captain Arcoll suddenly was consumed with quiet laughter. “Did you +notice the Kaffir who rode with him and carried his saddlebags? Well, +he’s one of my men. Henriques would have a fit if he knew what was in +those saddlebags. They contain my change of clothes, and other odds and +ends. Henriques’ own stuff is in a hole in the spruit. A handy way of +getting one’s luggage sent on, eh? The bags are waiting for me at a +place I appointed.” And again Captain Arcoll indulged his sense of +humour. Then he became grave, and returned to his examination. + +“A rising, with diamonds as the sinews of war, and Henriques as the +chief agent. Well and good! But who is to lead, and what are the +natives going to rise about?” + +“I know nothing further, but I have made some guesses.” + +“Let’s hear your guesses,” he said, blowing smoke rings from his pipe. + +“I think the main mover is a great black minister who calls himself +John Laputa.” + +Captain Arcoll nearly sprang out of his chair. “Now, how on earth did +you find that out? Quick, Mr Crawfurd, tell me all you know, for this +is desperately important.” + +I began at the beginning, and told him the story of what happened on +the Kirkcaple shore. Then I spoke of my sight of him on board ship, his +talk with Henriques about Blaauwildebeestefontein, and his hurried +departure from Durban. + +Captain Arcoll listened intently, and at the mention of Durban he +laughed. “You and I seem to have been running on lines which nearly +touched. I thought I had grabbed my friend Laputa that night in Durban, +but I was too cocksure and he slipped off. Do you know, Mr Crawfurd, +you have been on the right trail long before me? When did you say you +saw him at his devil-worship? Seven years ago? Then you were the first +man alive to know the Reverend John in his true colours. You knew seven +years ago what I only found out last year.” + +“Well, that’s my story,” I said. “I don’t know what the rising is +about, but there’s one other thing I can tell you. There’s some kind of +sacred place for the Kaffirs, and I’ve found out where it is.” I gave +him a short account of my adventures in the Rooirand. + +He smoked silently for a bit after I had finished. “You’ve got the +skeleton of the whole thing right, and you only want the filling up. +And you found out everything for yourself? Colles was right; you’re not +wanting in intelligence, Mr Crawfurd.” + +It was not much of a compliment, but I have never been more pleased in +my life. This slim, grizzled man, with his wrinkled face and bright +eyes, was clearly not lavish in his praise. I felt it was no small +thing to have earned a word of commendation. + +“And now I will tell you my story,” said Captain Arcoll. “It is a long +story, and I must begin far back. It has taken me years to decipher it, +and, remember, I’ve been all my life at this native business. I can +talk every dialect, and I have the customs of every tribe by heart. +I’ve travelled over every mile of South Africa, and Central and East +Africa too. I was in both the Matabele wars, and I’ve seen a heap of +other fighting which never got into the papers. So what I tell you you +can take as gospel, for it is knowledge that was not learned in a day.” + +He puffed away, and then asked suddenly, “Did you ever hear of Prester +John?” + +“The man that lived in Central Asia?” I asked, with a reminiscence of a +story-book I had as a boy. “No, no,” said Mr Wardlaw, “he means the +King of Abyssinia in the fifteenth century. I’ve been reading all about +him. He was a Christian, and the Portuguese sent expedition after +expedition to find him, but they never got there. Albuquerque wanted to +make an alliance with him and capture the Holy Sepulchre.” + +Arcoll nodded. “That’s the one I mean. There’s not very much known +about him, except Portuguese legends. He was a sort of Christian, but I +expect that his practices were as pagan as his neighbours’. There is no +doubt that he was a great conqueror. Under him and his successors, the +empire of Ethiopia extended far south of Abyssinia away down to the +Great Lakes.” + +“How long did this power last?” I asked wondering to what tale this was +prologue. + +“That’s a mystery no scholar has ever been able to fathom. Anyhow, the +centre of authority began to shift southward, and the warrior tribes +moved in that direction. At the end of the sixteenth century the chief +native power was round about the Zambesi. The Mazimba and the Makaranga +had come down from the Lake Nyassa quarter, and there was a strong +kingdom in Manicaland. That was the Monomotapa that the Portuguese +thought so much of.” + +Wardlaw nodded eagerly. The story was getting into ground that he knew +about. + +“The thing to remember is that all these little empires thought +themselves the successors of Prester John. It took me a long time to +find this out, and I have spent days in the best libraries in Europe +over it. They all looked back to a great king in the north, whom they +called by about twenty different names. They had forgotten about his +Christianity, but they remembered that he was a conqueror. + +“Well, to make a long story short, Monomotapa disappeared in time, and +fresh tribes came down from the north, and pushed right down to Natal +and the Cape. That is how the Zulus first appeared. They brought with +them the story of Prester John, but by this time it had ceased to be a +historical memory, and had become a religious cult. They worshipped a +great Power who had been their ancestor, and the favourite Zulu word +for him was Umkulunkulu. The belief was perverted into fifty different +forms, but this was the central creed—that Umkulunkulu had been the +father of the tribe, and was alive as a spirit to watch over them. + +“They brought more than a creed with them. Somehow or other, some +fetich had descended from Prester John by way of the Mazimba and Angoni +and Makaranga. What it is I do not know, but it was always in the hands +of the tribe which for the moment held the leadership. The great native +wars of the sixteenth century, which you can read about in the +Portuguese historians, were not for territory but for leadership, and +mainly for the possession of this fetich. Anyhow, we know that the +Zulus brought it down with them. They called it _Ndhlondhlo_, which +means the Great Snake, but I don’t suppose that it was any kind of +snake. The snake was their totem, and they would naturally call their +most sacred possession after it. + +“Now I will tell you a thing that few know. You have heard of Tchaka. +He was a sort of black Napoleon early in the last century, and he made +the Zulus the paramount power in South Africa, slaughtering about two +million souls to accomplish it. Well, he had the fetich, whatever it +was, and it was believed that he owed his conquests to it. Mosilikatse +tried to steal it, and that was why he had to fly to Matabeleland. But +with Tchaka it disappeared. Dingaan did not have it, nor Panda, and +Cetewayo never got it, though he searched the length and breadth of the +country for it. It had gone out of existence, and with it the chance of +a Kaffir empire.” + +Captain Arcoll got up to light his pipe, and I noticed that his face +was grave. He was not telling us this yarn for our amusement. + +“So much for Prester John and his charm,” he said. “Now I have to take +up the history at a different point. In spite of risings here and +there, and occasional rows, the Kaffirs have been quiet for the better +part of half a century. It is no credit to us. They have had plenty of +grievances, and we are no nearer understanding them than our fathers +were. But they are scattered and divided. We have driven great wedges +of white settlement into their territory, and we have taken away their +arms. Still, they are six times as many as we are, and they have long +memories, and a thoughtful man may wonder how long the peace will last. +I have often asked myself that question, and till lately I used to +reply, ‘For ever because they cannot find a leader with the proper +authority, and they have no common cause to fight for.’ But a year or +two ago I began to change my mind. + +“It is my business to act as chief Intelligence officer among the +natives. Well, one day, I came on the tracks of a curious person. He +was a Christian minister called Laputa, and he was going among the +tribes from Durban to the Zambesi as a roving evangelist. I found that +he made an enormous impression, and yet the people I spoke to were +chary of saying much about him. Presently I found that he preached more +than the gospel. His word was ‘Africa for the Africans,’ and his chief +point was that the natives had had a great empire in the past, and +might have a great empire again. He used to tell the story of Prester +John, with all kinds of embroidery of his own. You see, Prester John +was a good argument for him, for he had been a Christian as well as a +great potentate. “For years there has been plenty of this talk in South +Africa, chiefly among Christian Kaffirs. It is what they call +‘Ethiopianism,’ and American negroes are the chief apostles. For +myself, I always thought the thing perfectly harmless. I don’t care a +fig whether the native missions break away from the parent churches in +England and call themselves by fancy names. The more freedom they have +in their religious life, the less they are likely to think about +politics. But I soon found out that Laputa was none of your flabby +educated negroes from America, and I began to watch him. + +“I first came across him at a revival meeting in London, where he was a +great success. He came and spoke to me about my soul, but he gave up +when I dropped into Zulu. The next time I met him was on the lower +Limpopo, when I had the pleasure of trying to shoot him from a boat.” +Captain Arcoll took his pipe from his mouth and laughed at the +recollection. + +“I had got on to an I.D.B. gang, and to my amazement found the +evangelist among them. But the Reverend John was too much for me. He +went overboard in spite of the crocodiles, and managed to swim below +water to the reed bed at the side. However, that was a valuable +experience for me, for it gave me a clue. + +“I next saw him at a Missionary Conference in Cape Town, and after that +at a meeting of the Geographical Society in London, where I had a long +talk with him. My reputation does not follow me home, and he thought I +was an English publisher with an interest in missions. You see I had no +evidence to connect him with I.D.B., and besides I fancied that his +real game was something bigger than that; so I just bided my time and +watched. + +“I did my best to get on to his dossier, but it was no easy job. +However, I found out a few things. He had been educated in the States, +and well educated too, for the man is a good scholar and a great +reader, besides the finest natural orator I have ever heard. There was +no doubt that he was of Zulu blood, but I could get no traces of his +family. He must come of high stock, for he is a fine figure of a man. +“Very soon I found it was no good following him in his excursions into +civilization. There he was merely the educated Kaffir; a great pet of +missionary societies, and a favourite speaker at Church meetings. You +will find evidence given by him in Blue-Books on native affairs, and he +counted many members of Parliament at home among his correspondents. I +let that side go, and resolved to dog him when on his evangelizing +tours in the back-veld. + +“For six months I stuck to him like a leech. I am pretty good at +disguises, and he never knew who was the broken-down old Kaffir who +squatted in the dirt at the edge of the crowd when he spoke, or the +half-caste who called him ‘Sir’ and drove his Cape-cart. I had some +queer adventures, but these can wait. The gist of the thing is, that +after six months which turned my hair grey I got a glimmering of what +he was after. He talked Christianity to the mobs in the kraals, but to +the indunas[3] he told a different story.” + +Captain Arcoll helped himself to a drink. “You can guess what that +story was, Mr Crawfurd. At full moon when the black cock was blooded, +the Reverend John forgot his Christianity. He was back four centuries +among the Mazimba sweeping down on the Zambesi. He told them, and they +believed him, that he was the Umkulunkulu, the incarnated spirit of +Prester John. He told them that he was there to lead the African race +to conquest and empire. Ay, and he told them more: for he has, or says +he has, the Great Snake itself, the necklet of Prester John.” + +Neither of us spoke; we were too occupied with fitting this news into +our chain of knowledge. + +Captain Arcoll went on. “Now that I knew his purpose, I set myself to +find out his preparations. It was not long before I found a mighty +organization at work from the Zambesi to the Cape. The great tribes +were up to their necks in the conspiracy, and all manner of little +sects had been taken in. I have sat at tribal councils and been sworn a +blood brother, and I have used the secret password to get knowledge in +odd places. It was a dangerous game, and, as I have said, I had my +adventures, but I came safe out of it—with my knowledge. + +“The first thing I found out was that there was a great deal of wealth +somewhere among the tribes. Much of it was in diamonds, which the +labourers stole from the mines and the chiefs impounded. Nearly every +tribe had its secret chest, and our friend Laputa had the use of them +all. Of course the difficulty was changing the diamonds into coin, and +he had to start I.D.B. on a big scale. Your pal, Henriques, was the +chief agent for this, but he had others at Mozambique and Johannesburg, +ay, and in London, whom I have on my list. With the money, guns and +ammunition were bought, and it seems that a pretty flourishing trade +has been going on for some time. They came in mostly overland through +Portuguese territory, though there have been cases of consignments to +Johannesburg houses, the contents of which did not correspond with the +invoice. You ask what the Governments were doing to let this go on. +Yes, and you may well ask. They were all asleep. They never dreamed of +danger from the natives, and in any case it was difficult to police the +Portuguese side. Laputa knew our weakness, and he staked everything on +it. + +“My first scheme was to lay Laputa by the heels; but no Government +would act on my information. The man was strongly buttressed by public +support at home, and South Africa has burned her fingers before this +with arbitrary arrests. Then I tried to fasten I.D.B. on him, but I +could not get my proofs till too late. I nearly had him in Durban, but +he got away; and he never gave me a second chance. For five months he +and Henriques have been lying low, because their scheme was getting +very ripe. I have been following them through Zululand and Gazaland, +and I have discovered that the train is ready, and only wants the +match. For a month I have never been more than five hours behind him on +the trail; and if he has laid his train, I have laid mine also.” + +Arcoll’s whimsical, humorous face had hardened into grimness, and in +his eyes there was the light of a fierce purpose. The sight of him +comforted me, in spite of his tale. + +“But what can he hope to do?” I asked. “Though he roused every Kaffir +in South Africa he would be beaten. You say he is an educated man. He +must know he has no chance in the long run.” + +“I said he was an educated man, but he is also a Kaffir. He can see the +first stage of a thing, and maybe the second, but no more. That is the +native mind. If it was not like that our chance would be the worse.” + +“You say the scheme is ripe,” I said; “how ripe?” + +Arcoll looked at the clock. “In half an hour’s time Laputa will be with +’Mpefu. There he will stay the night. To-morrow morning he goes to +Umvelos’ to meet Henriques. To-morrow evening the gathering begins.” + +“One question,” I said. “How big a man is Laputa?” + +“The biggest thing that the Kaffirs have ever produced. I tell you, in +my opinion he is a great genius. If he had been white he might have +been a second Napoleon. He is a born leader of men, and as brave as a +lion. There is no villainy he would not do if necessary, and yet I +should hesitate to call him a blackguard. Ay, you may look surprised at +me, you two pragmatical Scotsmen; but I have, so to speak, lived with +the man for months, and there’s fineness and nobility in him. He would +be a terrible enemy, but a just one. He has the heart of a poet and a +king, and it is God’s curse that he has been born among the children of +Ham. I hope to shoot him like a dog in a day or two, but I am glad to +bear testimony to his greatness.” + +“If the rising starts to-morrow,” I asked, “have you any of his plans?” + +He picked up a map from the table and opened it. “The first rendezvous +is somewhere near Sikitola’s. Then they move south, picking up +contingents; and the final concentration is to be on the high veld near +Amsterdam, which is convenient for the Swazis and the Zulus. After that +I know nothing, but of course there are local concentrations along the +whole line of the Berg from Mashonaland to Basutoland. Now, look here. +To get to Amsterdam they must cross the Delagoa Bay Railway. Well, they +won’t be allowed to. If they get as far, they will be scattered there. +As I told you, I too have laid my train. We have the police ready all +along the scarp of the Berg. Every exit from native territory is +watched, and the frontier farmers are out on commando. We have regulars +on the Delagoa Bay and Natal lines, and a system of field telegraphs +laid which can summon further troops to any point. It has all been kept +secret, because we are still in the dark ourselves. The newspaper +public knows nothing about any rising, but in two days every white +household in South Africa will be in a panic. Make no mistake, Mr +Crawfurd; this is a grim business. We shall smash Laputa and his men, +but it will be a fierce fight, and there will be much good blood shed. +Besides, it will throw the country back another half-century. Would to +God I had been man enough to put a bullet through his head in cold +blood. But I could not do it—it was too like murder; and maybe I shall +never have the chance now.” + +“There’s one thing puzzles me,” I said. “What makes Laputa come up here +to start with? Why doesn’t he begin with Zululand?” + +“God knows! There’s sure to be sense in it, for he does nothing without +reason. We may know to-morrow.” + +But as Captain Arcoll spoke, the real reason suddenly flashed into my +mind: Laputa had to get the Great Snake, the necklet of Prester John, +to give his leadership prestige. Apparently he had not yet got it, or +Arcoll would have known. He started from this neighbourhood because the +fetich was somewhere hereabouts. I was convinced that my guess was +right, but I kept my own counsel. + +“To-morrow Laputa and Henriques meet at Umvelos’, probably at your new +store, Mr Crawfurd. And so the ball commences.” + +My resolution was suddenly taken. + +“I think,” I said, “I had better be present at the meeting, as +representing the firm.” + +Captain Arcoll stared at me and laughed. “I had thought of going +myself,” he said. + +“Then you go to certain death, disguise yourself as you please. You +cannot meet them in the store as I can. I’m there on my ordinary +business, and they will never suspect. If you’re to get any news, I’m +the man to go.” + +He looked at me steadily for a minute or so. “I’m not sure that’s such +a bad idea of yours. I would be better employed myself on the Berg, +and, as you say, I would have little chance of hearing anything. You’re +a plucky fellow, Mr Crawfurd. I suppose you understand that the risk is +pretty considerable.” + +“I suppose I do; but since I’m in this thing, I may as well see it out. +Besides, I’ve an old quarrel with our friend Laputa.” + +“Good and well,” said Captain Arcoll. “Draw in your chair to the table, +then, and I’ll explain to you the disposition of my men. I should tell +you that I have loyal natives in my pay in most tribes, and can count +on early intelligence. We can’t match their telepathy; but the new type +of field telegraph is not so bad, and may be a trifle more reliable.” + +Till midnight we pored over maps, and certain details were burned in on +my memory. Then we went to bed and slept soundly, even Mr Wardlaw. It +was strange how fear had gone from the establishment, now that we knew +the worst and had a fighting man by our side. + +[1] Hemp. + +[2] Council. + +[3] Lesser chiefs. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII +I FALL IN AGAIN WITH THE REVEREND JOHN LAPUTA + + +Once, as a boy, I had earnestly desired to go into the army, and had +hopes of rising to be a great general. Now that I know myself better, I +do not think I would have been much good at a general’s work. I would +have shirked the loneliness of it, the isolation of responsibility. But +I think I would have done well in a subaltern command, for I had a +great notion of carrying out orders, and a certain zest in the mere act +of obedience. Three days before I had been as nervous as a kitten +because I was alone and it was “up to me,” as Americans say, to decide +on the next step. But now that I was only one wheel in a great machine +of defence my nervousness seemed to have fled. I was well aware that +the mission I was bound on was full of risk; but, to my surprise, I +felt no fear. Indeed, I had much the same feeling as a boy on a +Saturday’s holiday who has planned a big expedition. One thing only I +regretted—that Tam Dyke was not with me to see the fun. The thought of +that faithful soul, now beating somewhere on the seas, made me long for +his comradeship. As I shaved, I remember wondering if I would ever +shave again, and the thought gave me no tremors. For once in my sober +life I was strung up to the gambler’s pitch of adventure. + +My job was to go to Umvelos’ as if on my ordinary business, and if +possible find out something of the evening’s plan of march. The +question was how to send back a message to Arcoll, assuming I had any +difficulty in getting away. At first this puzzled us both, and then I +thought of Colin. I had trained the dog to go home at my bidding, for +often when I used to go hunting I would have occasion to visit a kraal +where he would have been a nuisance. Accordingly, I resolved to take +Colin with me, and, if I got into trouble, to send word by him. + +I asked about Laputa’s knowledge of our preparations. Arcoll was +inclined to think that he suspected little. The police and the +commandos had been kept very secret, and, besides, they were moving on +the high veld and out of the ken of the tribes. Natives, he told me, +were not good scouts so far as white man’s work was concerned, for they +did not understand the meaning of what we did. On the other hand, his +own native scouts brought him pretty accurate tidings of any Kaffir +movements. He thought that all the bush country of the plain would be +closely watched, and that no one would get through without some kind of +pass. But he thought also that the storekeeper might be an exception, +for his presence would give rise to no suspicions. Almost his last +words to me were to come back hell-for-leather if I saw the game was +hopeless, and in any case to leave as soon as I got any news. “If +you’re there when the march begins,” he said, “they’ll cut your throat +for a certainty.” I had all the various police posts on the Berg clear +in my mind, so that I would know where to make for if the road to +Blaauwildebeestefontein should be closed. + +I said good-bye to Arcoll and Wardlaw with a light heart, though the +schoolmaster broke down and implored me to think better of it. As I +turned down into the gorge I heard the sound of horses’ feet far +behind, and, turning back, saw white riders dismounting at the dorp. At +any rate I was leaving the country well guarded in my rear. + +It was a fine morning in mid-winter, and I was in very good spirits as +I jogged on my pony down the steep hill-road, with Colin running beside +me. A month before I had taken the same journey, with no suspicion in +my head of what the future was to bring. I thought about my Dutch +companions, now with their cattle far out on the plains. Did they know +of the great danger, I wondered. All the way down the glen I saw no +sign of human presence. The game-birds mocked me from the thicket; a +brace of white _berghaan_ circled far up in the blue; and I had for +pleasant comrade the brawling river. I dismounted once to drink, and in +that green haven of flowers and ferns I was struck sharply with a sense +of folly. Here were we wretched creatures of men making for each +other’s throats, and outraging the good earth which God had made so +fair a habitation. + +I had resolved on a short cut to Umvelos’, avoiding the neighbourhood +of Sikitola’s kraal, so when the river emerged from the glen I crossed +it and struck into the bush. I had not gone far before I realized that +something strange was going on. It was like the woods on the Berg a +week before. I had the impression of many people moving in the bush, +and now and then I caught a glimpse of them. My first thought was that +I should be stopped, but soon it appeared that these folk had business +of their own which did not concern me. I was conscious of being +watched, yet it was clear that the bush folk were not there for the +purpose of watching me. + +For a little I kept my spirits, but as the hours passed with the same +uncanny hurrying to and fro all about me my nerves began to suffer. +Weeks of espionage at Blaauwildebeestefontein had made me jumpy. These +people apparently meant me no ill, and had no time to spare on me, But +the sensation of moving through them was like walking on a black-dark +night with precipices all around. I felt odd quiverings between my +shoulder blades where a spear might be expected to lodge. Overhead was +a great blue sky and a blazing sun, and I could see the path running +clear before me between the walls of scrub. But it was like midnight to +me, a midnight of suspicion and unknown perils. I began to wish +heartily I had never come. + +I stopped for my midday meal at a place called Taqui, a grassy glade in +the bush where a tiny spring of water crept out from below a big stone, +only to disappear in the sand. Here I sat and smoked for half an hour, +wondering what was going to become of me. The air was very still, but I +could hear the rustle of movement somewhere within a hundred yards. The +hidden folk were busy about their own ends, and I regretted that I had +not taken the road by Sikitola’s and seen how the kraals looked. They +must be empty now, for the young men were already out on some mission. +So nervous I got that I took my pocket-book and wrote down certain +messages to my mother, which I implored whoever should find my body to +transmit. Then, a little ashamed of my childishness, I pulled myself +together, and remounted. + +About three in the afternoon I came over a low ridge of bush and saw +the corrugated iron roof of the store and the gleam of water from the +Labongo. The sight encouraged me, for at any rate it meant the end of +this disquieting ride. Here the bush changed to trees of some size, and +after leaving the ridge the road plunged for a little into a thick +shade. I had forgotten for a moment the folk in the bush, and when a +man stepped out of the thicket I pulled up my horse with a start. + +It was a tall native, who carried himself proudly, and after a glance +at me, stalked along at my side. He wore curious clothes, for he had a +kind of linen tunic, and around his waist hung a kilt of leopard-skin. +In such a man one would have looked for a _ting-kop_,[1] but instead he +had a mass of hair, not like a Kaffir’s wool, but long and curled like +some popular musician’s. I should have been prepared for the face, but +the sight of it sent a sudden chill of fright through my veins. For +there was the curved nose, the deep flashing eyes, and the cruel lips +of my enemy of the Kirkcaple shore. + +Colin was deeply suspicious and followed his heels growling, but he +never turned his head. + +“The day is warm, father,” I said in Kaffir. “Do you go far?” + +He slackened his pace till he was at my elbow. “But a short way, Baas,” +he replied in English; “I go to the store yonder.” + +“Well met, then,” said I, “for I am the storekeeper. You will find +little in it, for it is newly built and not yet stocked. I have ridden +over to see to it.” + +He turned his face to me. “That is bad news. I had hoped for food and +drink yonder. I have travelled far, and in the chill nights I desire a +cover for my head. Will the Baas allow me to sleep the night in an +outhouse?” + +By this time I had recovered my nerve, and was ready to play the part I +had determined on. “Willingly,” I said. “You may sleep in the storeroom +if you care. You will find sacks for bedding, and the place is snug +enough on a cold night.” + +He thanked me with a grave dignity which I had never seen in any +Kaffir. As my eye fell on his splendid proportions I forgot all else in +my admiration of the man. In his minister’s clothes he had looked only +a heavily built native, but now in his savage dress I saw how noble a +figure he made. He must have been at least six feet and a half, but his +chest was so deep and his shoulders so massive that one did not remark +his height. He put a hand on my saddle, and I remember noting how slim +and fine it was, more like a high-bred woman’s than a man’s. Curiously +enough he filled me with a certain confidence. + +“I do not think you will cut my throat,” I said to myself. “Your game +is too big for common murder.” + +The store at Umvelos’ stood as I had left it. There was the sjambok I +had forgotten still lying on the window sill. I unlocked the door, and +a stifling smell of new paint came out to meet me. Inside there was +nothing but the chairs and benches, and in a corner the pots and pans I +had left against my next visit. I unlocked the cupboard and got out a +few stores, opened the windows of the bedroom next door, and flung my +kaross on the cartel which did duty as bed. Then I went out to find +Laputa standing patiently in the sunshine. + +I showed him the outhouse where I had said he might sleep. It was the +largest room in the store, but wholly unfurnished. A pile of barrels +and packing-cases stood in the corner, and there was enough sacking to +make a sort of bed. + +“I am going to make tea,” I said. “If you have come far you would maybe +like a cup?” + +He thanked me, and I made a fire in the grate and put on the kettle to +boil. Then I set on the table biscuits, and sardines, and a pot of jam. +It was my business now to play the fool, and I believe I succeeded to +admiration in the part. I blush to-day to think of the stuff I talked. +First I made him sit on a chair opposite me, a thing no white man in +the country would have done. Then I told him affectionately that I +liked natives, that they were fine fellows and better men than the +dirty whites round about. I explained that I was fresh from England, +and believed in equal rights for all men, white or coloured. God +forgive me, but I think I said I hoped to see the day when Africa would +belong once more to its rightful masters. + +He heard me with an impassive face, his grave eyes studying every line +of me. I am bound to add that he made a hearty meal, and drank three +cups of strong tea of my brewing. I gave him a cigar, one of a lot I +had got from a Dutch farmer who was experimenting with their +manufacture—and all the while I babbled of myself and my opinions. He +must have thought me half-witted, and indeed before long I began to be +of the same opinion myself. I told him that I meant to sleep the night +here, and go back in the morning to Blaauwildebeestefontein, and then +to Pietersdorp for stores. By-and-by I could see that he had ceased to +pay any attention to what I said. I was clearly set down in his mind as +a fool. Instead he kept looking at Colin, who was lying blinking in the +doorway, one wary eye cocked on the stranger. + +“You have a fine dog,” he observed. + +“Yes,” I agreed, with one final effort of mendacity, “he’s fine to look +at, but he has no grit in him. Any mongrel from a kraal can make him +turn tail. Besides, he is a born fool and can’t find his way home. I’m +thinking of getting rid of him.” + +Laputa rose and his eye fell on the dog’s back. I could see that he saw +the lie of his coat, and that he did not agree with me. + +“The food was welcome, Baas,” he said. “If you will listen to me I can +repay hospitality with advice. You are a stranger here. Trouble comes, +and if you are wise you will go back to the Berg.” + +“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, with an air of cheerful idiocy. +“But back to the Berg I go the first thing in the morning. I hate these +stinking plains.” + +“It were wise to go to-night,” he said, with a touch of menace in his +tone. + +“I can’t,” I said, and began to sing the chorus of a ridiculous +music-hall song— + +“There’s no place like home—but + +I’m afraid to go home in the dark.” + + +Laputa shrugged his shoulders, stepped over the bristling Colin, and +went out. When I looked after him two minutes later he had disappeared. + +[1] The circlet into which, with the aid of gum, Zulu warriors weave +their hair. + + + + +CHAPTER IX +THE STORE AT UMVELOS’ + + +I sat down on a chair and laboured to collect my thoughts. Laputa had +gone, and would return sooner or later with Henriques. If I was to +remain alive till morning, both of them must be convinced that I was +harmless. Laputa was probably of that opinion, but Henriques would +recognize me, and I had no wish to have that yellow miscreant +investigating my character. There was only one way out of it—I must be +incapably drunk. There was not a drop of liquor in the store, but I +found an old whisky bottle half full of methylated spirits. With this I +thought I might raise an atmosphere of bad whisky, and for the rest I +must trust to my meagre gifts as an actor. + +Supposing I escaped suspicion, Laputa and Henriques would meet in the +outhouse, and I must find some means of overhearing them. Here I was +fairly baffled. There was no window in the outhouse save in the roof, +and they were sure to shut and bolt the door. I might conceal myself +among the barrels inside; but apart from the fact that they were likely +to search them before beginning their conference, it was quite certain +that they would satisfy themselves that I was safe in the other end of +the building before going to the outhouse. + +Suddenly I thought of the cellar which we had built below the store. +There was an entrance by a trap-door behind the counter, and another in +the outhouse. I had forgotten the details, but my hope was that the +second was among the barrels. I shut the outer door, prised up the +trap, and dropped into the vault, which had been floored roughly with +green bricks. Lighting match after match, I crawled to the other end +and tried to lift the door. It would not stir, so I guessed that the +barrels were on the top of it. Back to the outhouse I went, and found +that sure enough a heavy packing-case was standing on a corner. I fixed +it slightly open, so as to let me hear, and so arranged the odds and +ends round about it that no one looking from the floor of the outhouse +would guess at its existence. It occurred to me that the conspirators +would want seats, so I placed two cases at the edge of the heap, that +they might not be tempted to forage in the interior. + +This done, I went back to the store and proceeded to rig myself out for +my part. The cellar had made me pretty dirty, and I added some new +daubs to my face. My hair had grown longish, and I ran my hands through +it till it stood up like a cockatoo’s crest. Then I cunningly disposed +the methylated spirits in the places most likely to smell. I burned a +little on the floor, I spilt some on the counter and on my hands, and I +let it dribble over my coat. In five minutes I had made the room stink +like a shebeen. I loosened the collar of my shirt, and when I looked at +myself in the cover of my watch I saw a specimen of debauchery which +would have done credit to a Saturday night’s police cell. + +By this time the sun had gone down, but I thought it better to kindle +no light. It was the night of the full moon—for which reason, I +supposed, Laputa had selected it—and in an hour or two the world would +be lit with that ghostly radiance. I sat on the counter while the +minutes passed, and I confess I found the time of waiting very trying +for my courage. I had got over my worst nervousness by having something +to do, but whenever I was idle my fears returned. Laputa had a big +night’s work before him, and must begin soon. My vigil, I told myself, +could not be long. + +My pony was stalled in a rough shed we had built opposite the store. I +could hear him shaking his head and stamping the ground above the +croaking of the frogs by the Labongo. Presently it seemed to me that +another sound came from behind the store—the sound of horses’ feet and +the rattle of bridles. It was hushed for a moment, and then I heard +human voices. The riders had tied up their horses to a tree and were +coming nearer. + +I sprawled gracefully on the counter, the empty bottle in my hand, and +my eyes fixed anxiously on the square of the door, which was filled +with the blue glimmer of the late twilight. The square darkened, and +two men peered in. Colin growled from below the counter, but with one +hand I held the scruff of his neck. + +“Hullo,” I said, “ish that my black friend? Awfly shorry, old man, but +I’ve f’nish’d th’ whisky. The bo-o-ottle shempty,” and I waved it +upside down with an imbecile giggle. + +Laputa said something which I did not catch. Henriques laughed an ugly +laugh. + +“We had better make certain of him,” he said. + +The two argued for a minute, and then Laputa seemed to prevail. The +door was shut and the key, which I had left in the lock, turned on me. + +I gave them five minutes to get to the outhouse and settle to business. +Then I opened the trap, got into the cellar, and crawled to the other +end. A ray of light was coming through the partially raised door. By a +blessed chance some old bricks had been left behind, and of these I +made a footstool, which enabled me to get my back level with the door +and look out. My laager of barrels was intact, but through a gap I had +left I could see the two men sitting on the two cases I had provided +for them. A lantern was set between them, and Henriques was drinking +out of a metal flask. + +He took something—I could not see what—out of his pocket, and held it +before his companion. + +“Spoils of war,” he said. “I let Sikitola’s men draw first blood. They +needed it to screw up their courage. Now they are as wild as Umbooni’s. + +Laputa asked a question. + +“It was the Dutchmen, who were out on the Koodoo Flats with their +cattle. Man, it’s no good being squeamish. Do you think you can talk +over these surly back-veld fools? If we had not done it, the best of +their horses would now be over the Berg to give warning. Besides, I +tell you, Sikitola’s men wanted blooding. I did for the old swine, +Coetzee, with my own hands. Once he set his dogs on me, and I don’t +forget an injury.” + +Laputa must have disapproved, for Henriques’ voice grew high. + +“Run the show the way you please,” he cried; “but don’t blame me if you +make a hash of it. God, man, do you think you are going to work a +revolution on skim milk? If I had my will, I would go in and stick a +knife in the drunken hog next door.” + +“He is safe enough,” Laputa replied. “I gave him the chance of life, +and he laughed at me. He won’t get far on his road home.” + +This was pleasant hearing for me, but I scarcely thought of myself. I +was consumed with a passion of fury against the murdering yellow devil. +With Laputa I was not angry; he was an open enemy, playing a fair game. +But my fingers itched to get at the Portugoose—that double-dyed traitor +to his race. As I thought of my kindly old friends, lying butchered +with their kinsfolk out in the bush, hot tears of rage came to my eyes. +Perfect love casteth out fear, the Bible says; but, to speak it +reverently, so does perfect hate. Not for safety and a king’s ransom +would I have drawn back from the game. I prayed for one thing only, +that God in His mercy would give me the chance of settling with +Henriques. + +I fancy I missed some of the conversation, being occupied with my own +passion. At any rate, when I next listened the two were deep in plans. +Maps were spread beside them, and Laputa’s delicate forefinger was +tracing a route. I strained my ears, but could catch only a few names. +Apparently they were to keep in the plains till they had crossed the +Klein Labongo and the Letaba. I thought I caught the name of the ford +of the latter; it sounded like Dupree’s Drift. After that the talk +became plainer, for Laputa was explaining in his clear voice. The force +would leave the bush, ascend the Berg by the glen of the Groot Letaba, +and the first halt would be called at a place called Inanda’s Kraal, +where a promontory of the high-veld juts out behind the peaks called +the Wolkberg or Cloud Mountains. All this was very much to the point, +and the names sunk into my memory like a die into wax. + +“Meanwhile,” said Laputa, “there is the gathering at Ntabakaikonjwa.[1] +It will take us three hours’ hard riding to get there.” + +Where on earth was Ntabakaikonjwa? It must be the native name for the +Rooirand, for after all Laputa was not likely to use the Dutch word for +his own sacred place. + +“Nothing has been forgotten. The men are massed below the cliffs, and +the chiefs and the great indunas will enter the Place of the Snake. The +door will be guarded, and only the password will get a man through. +That word is ‘Immanuel,’ which means, ‘God with us.’” + +“Well, when we get there, what happens?” Henriques asked with a laugh. +“What kind of magic will you spring on us?” + +There was a strong contrast between the flippant tone of the Portugoose +and the grave voice which answered him. + +“The Keeper of the Snake will open the holy place, and bring forth the +Isetembiso sami.[2] As the leader of my people, I will assume the +collar of Umkulunkulu in the name of our God and the spirits of the +great dead.” + +“But you don’t propose to lead the march in a necklace of rubies,” said +Henriques, with a sudden eagerness in his voice. + +Again Laputa spoke gravely, and, as it were, abstractedly. I heard the +voice of one whose mind was fixed on a far horizon. + +“When I am acclaimed king, I restore the Snake to its Keeper, and swear +never to clasp it on my neck till I have led my people to victory.” + +“I see,” said Henriques. “What about the purification you mentioned?” + +I had missed this before and listened earnestly. + +“The vows we take in the holy place bind us till we are purged of them +at Inanda’s Kraal. Till then no blood must be shed and no flesh eaten. +It was the fashion of our forefathers.” + +“Well, I think you’ve taken on a pretty risky job,” Henriques said. +“You propose to travel a hundred miles, binding yourself not to strike +a blow. It is simply putting yourself at the mercy of any police +patrol.” + +“There will be no patrol,” Laputa replied. “Our march will be as secret +and as swift as death. I have made my preparations.” + +“But suppose you met with opposition,” the Portugoose persisted, “would +the rule hold?” + +“If any try to stop us, we shall tie them hand and foot, and carry them +with us. Their fate will be worse than if they had been slain in +battle.” + +“I see,” said Henriques, whistling through his teeth. “Well, before we +start this vow business, I think I’ll go back and settle that +storekeeper.” + +Laputa shook his head. “Will you be serious and hear me? We have no +time to knife harmless fools. Before we start for Ntabakaikonjwa I must +have from you the figures of the arming in the south. That is the one +thing which remains to be settled.” + +I am certain these figures would have been most interesting, but I +never heard them. My feet were getting cramped with standing on the +bricks, and I inadvertently moved them. The bricks came down with a +rattle, and unfortunately in slipping I clutched at the trap. This was +too much for my frail prop, and the door slammed down with a great +noise. + +Here was a nice business for the eavesdropper! I scurried along the +passage as stealthily as I could and clambered back into the store, +while I heard the sound of Laputa and Henriques ferreting among the +barrels. I managed to throttle Colin and prevent him barking, but I +could not get the confounded trap to close behind me. Something had +jammed in it, and it remained half a foot open. + +I heard the two approaching the door, and I did the best thing that +occurred to me. I pulled Colin over the trap, rolled on the top of him, +and began to snore heavily as if in a drunken slumber. + +The key was turned, and the gleam of a lantern was thrown on the wall. +It flew up and down as its bearer cast the light into the corners. + +“By God, he’s gone,” I heard Henriques say. “The swine was listening, +and he has bolted now.” + +“He won’t bolt far,” Laputa said. “He is here. He is snoring behind the +counter.” + +These were anxious moments for me. I had a firm grip on Colin’s throat, +but now and then a growl escaped, which was fortunately blended with my +snores. I felt that a lantern was flashed on me, and that the two men +were peering down at the heap on the half-opened trap. I think that was +the worst minute I ever spent, for, as I have said, my courage was not +so bad in action, but in a passive game it oozed out of my fingers. + +“He is safe enough,” Laputa said, after what seemed to me an eternity. +“The noise was only the rats among the barrels.” I thanked my Maker +that they had not noticed the other trap-door. “All the same I think +I’ll make him safer,” said Henriques. + +Laputa seemed to have caught him by the arm. + +“Come back and get to business,” he said. “I’ve told you I’ll have no +more murder. You will do as I tell you, Mr Henriques.” + +I did not catch the answer, but the two went out and locked the door. I +patted the outraged Colin, and got to my feet with an aching side where +the confounded lid of the trap had been pressing. There was no time to +lose for the two in the outhouse would soon be setting out, and I must +be before them. + +With no better light than a ray of the moon through the window, I wrote +a message on a leaf from my pocket-book. I told of the plans I had +overheard, and especially I mentioned Dupree’s Drift on the Letaba. I +added that I was going to the Rooirand to find the secret of the cave, +and in one final sentence implored Arcoll to do justice on the +Portugoose. That was all, for I had no time for more. I carefully tied +the paper with a string below the collar of the dog. + +Then very quietly I went into the bedroom next door—the side of the +store farthest from the outhouse. The place was flooded with moonlight, +and the window stood open, as I had left it in the afternoon. As softly +as I could I swung Colin over the sill and clambered after him. In my +haste I left my coat behind me with my pistol in the pocket. + +Now came a check. My horse was stabled in the shed, and that was close +to the outhouse. The sound of leading him out would most certainly +bring Laputa and Henriques to the door. In that moment I all but +changed my plans. I thought of slipping back to the outhouse and trying +to shoot the two men as they came forth. But I reflected that, before I +could get them both, one or other would probably shoot me. Besides, I +had a queer sort of compunction about killing Laputa. I understood now +why Arcoll had stayed his hand from murder, and I was beginning to be +of his opinion on our arch-enemy. + +Then I remembered the horses tied up in the bush. One of them I could +get with perfect safety. I ran round the end of the store and into the +thicket, keeping on soft grass to dull my tread. There, tied up to a +merula tree, were two of the finest beasts I had seen in Africa. I +selected the better, an Africander stallion of the _blaauw-schimmel_, +or blue-roan type, which is famous for speed and endurance. Slipping +his bridle from the branch, I led him a little way into the bush in the +direction of the Rooirand. + +Then I spoke to Colin. “Home with you,” I said. “Home, old man, as if +you were running down a tsessebe.”[3] + +The dog seemed puzzled. “Home,” I said again, pointing west in the +direction of the Berg. “Home, you brute.” + +And then he understood. He gave one low whine, and cast a reproachful +eye on me and the blue roan. Then he turned, and with his head down set +off with great lopes on the track of the road I had ridden in the +morning. + +A second later and I was in the saddle, riding hell-for-leather for the +north. + +[1] Literally, “The Hill which is not to be pointed at”. + +[2] Literally, “Very sacred thing”. + +[3] A species of buck, famous for its speed. + + + + +CHAPTER X +I GO TREASURE-HUNTING + + +For a mile or so I kept the bush, which was open and easy to ride +through, and then turned into the path. The moon was high, and the +world was all a dim dark green, with the track a golden ivory band +before me. I had looked at my watch before I started, and seen that it +was just after eight o’clock. I had a great horse under me, and less +than thirty miles to cover. Midnight should see me at the cave. With +the password I would gain admittance, and there would wait for Laputa +and Henriques. Then, if my luck held, I should see the inner workings +of the mystery which had puzzled me ever since the Kirkcaple shore. No +doubt I should be roughly treated, tied up prisoner, and carried with +the army when the march began. But till Inanda’s Kraal my life was +safe, and before that came the ford of the Letaba. Colin would carry my +message to Arcoll, and at the Drift the tables would be turned on +Laputa’s men. + +Looking back in cold blood, it seems the craziest chain of accidents to +count on for preservation. A dozen possibilities might have shattered +any link of it. The password might be wrong, or I might never get the +length of those who knew it. The men in the cave might butcher me out +of hand, or Laputa might think my behaviour a sufficient warrant for +the breach of the solemnest vow. Colin might never get to +Blaauwildebeestefontein, Laputa might change his route of march, or +Arcoll’s men might fail to hold the Drift. Indeed, the other day at +Portincross I was so overcome by the recollection of the perils I had +dared and God’s goodness towards me that I built a new hall for the +parish kirk as a token of gratitude. + +Fortunately for mankind the brain in a life of action turns more to the +matter in hand than to conjuring up the chances of the future. +Certainly it was in no discomfort of mind that I swung along the +moonlit path to the north. Truth to tell, I was almost happy. The first +honours in the game had fallen to me. I knew more about Laputa than any +man living save Henriques; I had my finger on the central pulse of the +rebellion. There was hid treasure ahead of me—a great necklace of +rubies, Henriques had said. Nay, there must be more, I argued. This +cave of the Rooirand was the headquarters of the rising, and there must +be stored their funds—diamonds, and the gold they had been bartered +for. I believe that every man has deep in his soul a passion for +treasure-hunting, which will often drive a coward into prodigies of +valour. I lusted for that treasure of jewels and gold. Once I had been +high-minded, and thought of my duty to my country, but in that night +ride I fear that what I thought of was my duty to enrich David +Crawfurd. One other purpose simmered in my head. I was devoured with +wrath against Henriques. Indeed, I think that was the strongest motive +for my escapade, for even before I heard Laputa tell of the vows and +the purification, I had it in my mind to go at all costs to the cave. I +am a peaceable man at most times, but I think I would rather have had +the Portugoose’s throat in my hands than the collar of Prester John. + +But behind my thoughts was one master-feeling, that Providence had +given me my chance and I must make the most of it. Perhaps the +Calvinism of my father’s preaching had unconsciously taken grip of my +soul. At any rate I was a fatalist in creed, believing that what was +willed would happen, and that man was but a puppet in the hands of his +Maker. I looked on the last months as a clear course which had been +mapped out for me. Not for nothing had I been given a clue to the +strange events which were coming. It was foreordained that I should go +alone to Umvelos’, and in the promptings of my own fallible heart I +believed I saw the workings of Omnipotence. Such is our moral +arrogance, and yet without such a belief I think that mankind would +have ever been content to bide sluggishly at home. + +I passed the spot where on my former journey I had met the horses, and +knew that I had covered more than half the road. My ear had been alert +for the sound of pursuit, but the bush was quiet as the grave. The man +who rode my pony would find him a slow traveller, and I pitied the poor +beast bucketed along by an angry rider. Gradually a hazy wall of purple +began to shimmer before me, apparently very far off. I knew the +ramparts of the Rooirand, and let my _schimmel_ feel my knees in his +ribs. Within an hour I should be at the cliff’s foot. + +I had trusted for safety to the password, but as it turned out I owed +my life mainly to my horse. For, a mile or so from the cliffs, I came +to the fringes of a great army. The bush was teeming with men, and I +saw horses picketed in bunches, and a multitude of Cape-carts and light +wagons. It was like a colossal gathering for _naachtmaal_[1] at a Dutch +dorp, but every man was black. I saw through a corner of my eye that +they were armed with guns, though many carried in addition their spears +and shields. Their first impulse was to stop me. I saw guns fly to +shoulders, and a rush towards the path. The boldest game was the +safest, so I dug my heels into the _schimmel_ and shouted for a +passage. “Make way!” I cried in Kaffir. “I bear a message from the +Inkulu.[2] Clear out, you dogs!” + +They recognized the horse, and fell back with a salute. Had I but known +it, the beast was famed from the Zambesi to the Cape. It was their +king’s own charger I rode, and who dared question such a warrant? I +heard the word pass through the bush, and all down the road I got the +salute. In that moment I fervently thanked my stars that I had got away +first, for there would have been no coming second for me. + +At the cliff-foot I found a double line of warriors who had the +appearance of a royal guard, for all were tall men with leopard-skin +cloaks. Their rifle-barrels glinted in the moon-light, and the sight +sent a cold shiver down my back. Above them, among the scrub and along +the lower slopes of the kranzes, I could see further lines with the +same gleaming weapons. The Place of the Snake was in strong hands that +night. + +I dismounted and called for a man to take my horse. Two of the guards +stepped forward in silence and took the bridle. This left the track to +the cave open, and with as stiff a back as I could command, but a sadly +fluttering heart, I marched through the ranks. + +The path was lined with guards, all silent and rigid as graven images. +As I stumbled over the stones I felt that my appearance scarcely fitted +the dignity of a royal messenger. Among those splendid men-at-arms I +shambled along in old breeches and leggings, hatless, with a dirty +face, dishevelled hair, and a torn flannel shirt. My mind was no better +than my body, for now that I had arrived I found my courage gone. Had +it been possible I would have turned tail and fled, but the boats were +burned behind me, and I had no choice. I cursed my rash folly, and +wondered at my exhilaration of an hour ago. I was going into the black +mysterious darkness, peopled by ten thousand cruel foes. My knees +rubbed against each other, and I thought that no man had ever been in +more deadly danger. + +At the entrance to the gorge the guards ceased and I went on alone. +Here there was no moonlight, and I had to feel my way by the sides. I +moved very slowly, wondering how soon I should find the end my folly +demanded. The heat of the ride had gone, and I remember feeling my +shirt hang clammily on my shoulders. + +Suddenly a hand was laid on my breast, and a voice demanded, “The +word?” + +“Immanuel,” I said hoarsely. + +Then unseen hands took both my arms, and I was led farther into the +darkness. My hopes revived for a second. The password had proved true, +and at any rate I should enter the cave. + +In the darkness I could see nothing, but I judged that we stopped +before the stone slab which, as I remembered, filled the extreme end of +the gorge. My guide did something with the right-hand wall, and I felt +myself being drawn into a kind of passage. It was so narrow that two +could not go abreast, and so low that the creepers above scraped my +hair. Something clicked behind me like the turnstile at the gate of a +show. + +Then we began to ascend steps, still in utter darkness, and a great +booming fell on my ear. It was the falling river which had scared me on +my former visit, and I marvelled that I had not heard it sooner. +Presently we came out into a gleam of moonlight, and I saw that we were +inside the gorge and far above the slab. We followed a narrow shelf on +its left side (or “true right”, as mountaineers would call it) until we +could go no farther. Then we did a terrible thing. Across the gorge, +which here was at its narrowest, stretched a slab of stone. Far, far +below I caught the moonlight on a mass of hurrying waters. This was our +bridge, and though I have a good head for crags, I confess I grew dizzy +as we turned to cross it. Perhaps it was broader than it looked; at any +rate my guides seemed to have no fear, and strode across it as if it +was a highway, while I followed in a sweat of fright. Once on the other +side, I was handed over to a second pair of guides, who led me down a +high passage running into the heart of the mountain. + +The boom of the river sank and rose as the passage twined. Soon I saw a +gleam of light ahead which was not the moon. It grew larger, until +suddenly the roof rose and I found myself in a gigantic chamber. So +high it was that I could not make out anything of the roof, though the +place was brightly lit with torches stuck round the wall, and a great +fire which burned at the farther end. But the wonder was on the left +side, where the floor ceased in a chasm. The left wall was one sheet of +water, where the river fell from the heights into the infinite depth, +below. The torches and the fire made the sheer stream glow and sparkle +like the battlements of the Heavenly City. I have never seen any sight +so beautiful or so strange, and for a second my breath stopped in +admiration. + +There were two hundred men or more in the chamber, but so huge was the +place that they seemed only a little company. They sat on the ground in +a circle, with their eyes fixed on the fire and on a figure which stood +before it. The glow revealed the old man I had seen on that morning a +month before moving towards the cave. He stood as if in a trance, +straight as a tree, with his arms crossed on his breast. A robe of some +shining white stuff fell from his shoulders, and was clasped round his +middle by a broad circle of gold. His head was shaven, and on his +forehead was bound a disc of carved gold. I saw from his gaze that his +old eyes were blind. + +“Who comes?” he asked as I entered. + +“A messenger from the Inkulu,” I spoke up boldly. “He follows soon with +the white man, Henriques.” + +Then I sat down in the back row of the circle to await events. I +noticed that my neighbour was the fellow ’Mwanga whom I had kicked out +of the store. Happily I was so dusty that he could scarcely recognize +me, but I kept my face turned away from him. What with the light and +the warmth, the drone of the water, the silence of the folk, and my +mental and physical stress, I grew drowsy and all but slept. + +[1] The Communion Sabbath. + +[2] A title applied only to the greatest chiefs. + + + + +CHAPTER XI +THE CAVE OF THE ROOIRAND + + +I was roused by a sudden movement. The whole assembly stood up, and +each man clapped his right hand to his brow and then raised it high. A +low murmur of “Inkulu” rose above the din of the water. Laputa strode +down the hall, with Henriques limping behind him. They certainly did +not suspect my presence in the cave, nor did Laputa show any ruffling +of his calm. Only Henriques looked weary and cross. I guessed he had +had to ride my pony. + +The old man whom I took to be the priest advanced towards Laputa with +his hands raised over his head. A pace before they met he halted, and +Laputa went on his knees before him. He placed his hands on his head, +and spoke some words which I could not understand. It reminded me, so +queer are the tricks of memory, of an old Sabbath-school book I used to +have which had a picture of Samuel ordaining Saul as king of Israel. I +think I had forgotten my own peril and was enthralled by the majesty of +the place—the wavering torches, the dropping wall of green water, above +all, the figures of Laputa and the Keeper of the Snake, who seemed to +have stepped out of an antique world. + +Laputa stripped off his leopard skin till he stood stark, a noble form +of a man. Then the priest sprinkled some herbs on the fire, and a thin +smoke rose to the roof. The smell was that I had smelled on the +Kirkcaple shore, sweet, sharp, and strange enough to chill the marrow. +And round the fire went the priest in widening and contracting circles, +just as on that Sabbath evening in spring. + +Once more we were sitting on the ground, all except Laputa and the +Keeper. Henriques was squatting in the front row, a tiny creature among +so many burly savages. Laputa stood with bent head in the centre. + +Then a song began, a wild incantation in which all joined. The old +priest would speak some words, and the reply came in barbaric music. +The words meant nothing to me; they must have been in some tongue long +since dead. But the music told its own tale. It spoke of old kings and +great battles, of splendid palaces and strong battlements, of queens +white as ivory, of death and life, love and hate, joy and sorrow. It +spoke, too, of desperate things, mysteries of horror long shut to the +world. No Kaffir ever forged that ritual. It must have come straight +from Prester John or Sheba’s queen, or whoever ruled in Africa when +time was young. + +I was horribly impressed. Devouring curiosity and a lurking nameless +fear filled my mind. My old dread had gone. I was not afraid now of +Kaffir guns, but of the black magic of which Laputa had the key. + +The incantation died away, but still herbs were flung on the fire, till +the smoke rose in a great cloud, through which the priest loomed misty +and huge. Out of the smoke-wreaths his voice came high and strange. It +was as if some treble stop had been opened in a great organ, as against +the bass drone of the cataract. + +He was asking Laputa questions, to which came answers in that rich +voice which on board the liner had preached the gospel of Christ. The +tongue I did not know, and I doubt if my neighbours were in better +case. It must have been some old sacred language—Phoenician, Sabaean, I +know not what—which had survived in the rite of the Snake. + +Then came silence while the fire died down and the smoke eddied away in +wreaths towards the river. The priest’s lips moved as if in prayer: of +Laputa I saw only the back, and his head was bowed. + +Suddenly a rapt cry broke from the Keeper. “God has spoken,” he cried. +“The path is clear. The Snake returns to the House of its Birth.” + +An attendant led forward a black goat, which bleated feebly. With a +huge antique knife the old man slit its throat, catching the blood in a +stone ewer. Some was flung on the fire, which had burned small and low. + +“Even so,” cried the priest, “will the king quench in blood the +hearth-fires of his foes.” + +Then on Laputa’s forehead and bare breast he drew a bloody cross. “I +seal thee,” said the voice, “priest and king of God’s people.” The ewer +was carried round the assembly, and each dipped his finger in it and +marked his forehead. I got a dab to add to the other marks on my face. + +“Priest and king of God’s people,” said the voice again, “I call thee +to the inheritance of John. Priest and king was he, king of kings, lord +of hosts, master of the earth. When he ascended on high he left to his +son the sacred Snake, the ark of his valour, to be God’s dower and +pledge to the people whom He has chosen.” + +I could not make out what followed. It seemed to be a long roll of the +kings who had borne the Snake. None of them I knew, but at the end I +thought I caught the name of Tchaka the Terrible, and I remembered +Arcoll’s tale. + +The Keeper held in his arms a box of curiously wrought ivory, about two +feet long and one broad. He was standing beyond the ashes, from which, +in spite of the blood, thin streams of smoke still ascended. He opened +it, and drew out something which swung from his hand like a cascade of +red fire. + +“Behold the Snake,” cried the Keeper, and every man in the assembly, +excepting Laputa and including me, bowed his head to the ground and +cried “Ow.” + +“Ye who have seen the Snake,” came the voice, “on you is the vow of +silence and peace. No blood shall ye shed of man or beast, no flesh +shall ye eat till the vow is taken from you. From the hour of midnight +till sunrise on the second day ye are bound to God. Whoever shall break +the vow, on him shall the curse fall. His blood shall dry in his veins, +and his flesh shrink on his bones. He shall be an outlaw and accursed, +and there shall follow him through life and death the Avengers of the +Snake. Choose ye, my people; upon you is the vow.” + +By this time we were all flat on our faces, and a great cry of assent +went up. I lifted my head as much as I dared to see what would happen +next. + +The priest raised the necklace till it shone above his head like a halo +of blood. I have never seen such a jewel, and I think there has never +been another such on earth. Later I was to have the handling of it, and +could examine it closely, though now I had only a glimpse. There were +fifty-five rubies in it, the largest as big as a pigeon’s egg, and the +least not smaller than my thumbnail. In shape they were oval, cut on +both sides en cabochon, and on each certain characters were engraved. +No doubt this detracted from their value as gems, yet the characters +might have been removed and the stones cut in facets, and these rubies +would still have been the noblest in the world. I was no jewel merchant +to guess their value, but I knew enough to see that here was wealth +beyond human computation. At each end of the string was a great pearl +and a golden clasp. The sight absorbed me to the exclusion of all fear. +I, David Crawfurd, nineteen years of age, an assistant-storekeeper in a +back-veld dorp, was privileged to see a sight to which no Portuguese +adventurer had ever attained. There, floating on the smoke-wreaths, was +the jewel which may once have burned in Sheba’s hair. As the priest +held the collar aloft, the assembly rocked with a strange passion. +Foreheads were rubbed in the dust, and then adoring eyes would be +raised, while a kind of sobbing shook the worshippers. In that moment I +learned something of the secret of Africa, of Prester John’s empire and +Tchaka’s victories. + +“In the name of God,” came the voice, “I deliver to the heir of John +the Snake of John.” + +Laputa took the necklet and twined it in two loops round his neck till +the clasp hung down over his breast. The position changed. The priest +knelt before him, and received his hands on his head. Then I knew that, +to the confusion of all talk about equality, God has ordained some men +to be kings and others to serve. Laputa stood naked as when he was +born. The rubies were dulled against the background of his skin, but +they still shone with a dusky fire. Above the blood-red collar his face +had the passive pride of a Roman emperor. Only his great eyes gloomed +and burned as he looked on his followers. + +“Heir of John,” he said, “I stand before you as priest and king. My +kingship is for the morrow. Now I am the priest to make intercession +for my people.” + +He prayed—prayed as I never heard man pray before—and to the God of +Israel! It was no heathen fetich he was invoking, but the God of whom +he had often preached in Christian kirks. I recognized texts from +Isaiah and the Psalms and the Gospels, and very especially from the two +last chapters of Revelation. He pled with God to forget the sins of his +people, to recall the bondage of Zion. It was amazing to hear these +bloodthirsty savages consecrated by their leader to the meek service of +Christ. An enthusiast may deceive himself, and I did not question his +sincerity. I knew his heart, black with all the lusts of paganism. I +knew that his purpose was to deluge the land with blood. But I knew +also that in his eyes his mission was divine, and that he felt behind +him all the armies of Heaven. + +_“Thou hast been a strength to the poor,” said the voice, “a refuge +from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the Terrible +Ones is as a storm against a wall._ + +_“Thou shalt bring down the noise of strangers, as the heat in a dry +place; the branch of the Terrible Ones shall be brought low._ + +_“And in this mountain shall the Lord of Hosts make unto all people a +feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full +of marrow._ + +_“And He will destroy in this mountain the face of the covering cast +over all people, and the vail that is brought over all nations._ + +_“And the rebuke of His people shall He take away from off all the +earth; for the Lord hath spoken it.”_ + +I listened spellbound as he prayed. I heard the phrases familiar to me +in my schooldays at Kirkcaple. He had some of the tones of my father’s +voice, and when I shut my eyes I could have believed myself a child +again. So much he had got from his apprenticeship to the ministry. I +wondered vaguely what the good folks who had listened to him in +churches and halls at home would think of him now. But there was in the +prayer more than the supplications of the quondam preacher. There was a +tone of arrogant pride, the pride of the man to whom the Almighty is +only another and greater Lord of Hosts. He prayed less as a suppliant +than as an ally. A strange emotion tingled in my blood, half awe, half +sympathy. As I have said, I understood that there are men born to +kingship. + +He ceased with a benediction. Then he put on his leopard-skin cloak and +kilt, and received from the kneeling chief a spear and shield. Now he +was more king than priest, more barbarian than Christian. It was as a +king that he now spoke. + +I had heard him on board the liner, and had thought his voice the most +wonderful I had ever met with. But now in that great resonant hall the +magic of it was doubled. He played upon the souls of his hearers as on +a musical instrument. At will he struck the chords of pride, fury, +hate, and mad joy. Now they would be hushed in breathless quiet, and +now the place would echo with savage assent. I remember noticing that +the face of my neighbour, ’Mwanga, was running with tears. + +He spoke of the great days of Prester John, and a hundred names I had +never heard of. He pictured the heroic age of his nation, when every +man was a warrior and hunter, and rich kraals stood in the spots now +desecrated by the white man, and cattle wandered on a thousand hills. +Then he told tales of white infamy, lands snatched from their rightful +possessors, unjust laws which forced the Ethiopian to the bondage of a +despised caste, the finger of scorn everywhere, and the mocking word. +If it be the part of an orator to rouse the passion of his hearers, +Laputa was the greatest on earth. “What have ye gained from the white +man?” he cried. “A bastard civilization which has sapped your manhood; +a false religion which would rivet on you the chains of the slave. Ye, +the old masters of the land, are now the servants of the oppressor. And +yet the oppressors are few, and the fear of you is in their hearts. +They feast in their great cities, but they see the writing on the wall, +and their eyes are anxiously turning lest the enemy be at their gates.” +I cannot hope in my prosaic words to reproduce that amazing discourse. +Phrases which the hearers had heard at mission schools now suddenly +appeared, not as the white man’s learning, but as God’s message to His +own. Laputa fitted the key to the cipher, and the meaning was clear. He +concluded, I remember, with a picture of the overthrow of the alien, +and the golden age which would dawn for the oppressed. Another +Ethiopian empire would arise, so majestic that the white man everywhere +would dread its name, so righteous that all men under it would live in +ease and peace. + +By rights, I suppose, my blood should have been boiling at this +treason. I am ashamed to confess that it did nothing of the sort. My +mind was mesmerized by this amazing man. I could not refrain from +shouting with the rest. Indeed I was a convert, if there can be +conversion when the emotions are dominant and there is no assent from +the brain. I had a mad desire to be of Laputa’s party. Or rather, I +longed for a leader who should master me and make my soul his own, as +this man mastered his followers. I have already said that I might have +made a good subaltern soldier, and the proof is that I longed for such +a general. + +As the voice ceased there was a deep silence. The hearers were in a +sort of trance, their eyes fixed glassily on Laputa’s face. It was the +quiet of tense nerves and imagination at white-heat. I had to struggle +with a spell which gripped me equally with the wildest savage. I forced +myself to look round at the strained faces, the wall of the cascade, +the line of torches. It was the sight of Henriques that broke the +charm. Here was one who had no part in the emotion. I caught his eye +fixed on the rubies, and in it I read only a devouring greed. It +flashed through my mind that Laputa had a foe in his own camp, and the +Prester’s collar a votary whose passion was not that of worship. + +The next thing I remember was a movement among the first ranks. The +chiefs were swearing fealty. Laputa took off the collar and called God +to witness that it should never again encircle his neck till he had led +his people to victory. Then one by one the great chiefs and indunas +advanced, and swore allegiance with their foreheads on the ivory box. +Such a collection of races has never been seen. There were tall Zulus +and Swazis with _ringkops_ and feather head-dresses. There were men +from the north with heavy brass collars and anklets; men with quills in +their ears, and earrings and nose-rings; shaven heads, and heads with +wonderfully twisted hair; bodies naked or all but naked, and bodies +adorned with skins and necklets. Some were light in colour, and some +were black as coal; some had squat negro features, and some thin, +high-boned Arab faces. But in all there was the air of mad enthusiasm. +For a day they were forsworn from blood, but their wild eyes and +twitching hands told their future purpose. + +For an hour or two I had been living in a dream-world. Suddenly my +absorption was shattered, for I saw that my time to swear was coming. I +sat in the extreme back row at the end nearest the entrance, and +therefore I should naturally be the last to go forward. The crisis was +near when I should be discovered, for there was no question of my +shirking the oath. + +Then for the first time since I entered the cave I realized the +frightful danger in which I stood. My mind had been strung so high by +the ritual that I had forgotten all else. Now came the rebound, and +with shaky nerves I had to face discovery and certain punishment. In +that moment I suffered the worst terror of my life. There was much to +come later, but by that time my senses were dulled. Now they had been +sharpened by what I had seen and heard, my nerves were already +quivering and my fancy on fire. I felt every limb shaking as ’Mwanga +went forward. The cave swam before my eyes, heads were multiplied +giddily, and I was only dimly conscious when he rose to return. + +Nothing would have made me advance, had I not feared Laputa less than +my neighbours. They might rend me to pieces, but to him the oath was +inviolable. I staggered crazily to my feet, and shambled forwards. My +eye was fixed on the ivory box, and it seemed to dance before me and +retreat. + +Suddenly I heard a voice—the voice of Henriques—cry, “By God, a spy!” I +felt my throat caught, but I was beyond resisting. + +It was released, and I was pinned by the arms. I must have stood +vacantly, with a foolish smile, while unchained fury raged round me. I +seemed to hear Laputa’s voice saying, “It is the storekeeper.” His face +was all that I could see, and it was unperturbed. There was a mocking +ghost of a smile about his lips. + +Myriad hands seemed to grip me and crush my breath, but above the +clamour I heard a fierce word of command. After that I fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER XII +CAPTAIN ARCOLL SENDS A MESSAGE + + +I once read—I think in some Latin writer—the story of a man who was +crushed to a jelly by the mere repeated touch of many thousand hands. +His murderers were not harsh, but an infinite repetition of the +gentlest handling meant death. I do not suppose that I was very +brutally manhandled in the cave. I was trussed up tight and carried out +to the open, and left in the care of the guards. But when my senses +returned I felt as if I had been cruelly beaten in every part. The +raw-hide bonds chafed my wrists and ankle and shoulders, but they were +the least part of my aches. To be handled by a multitude of Kaffirs is +like being shaken by some wild animal. Their skins are insensible to +pain, and I have seen a Zulu stand on a piece of red-hot iron without +noticing it till he was warned by the smell of burning hide. Anyhow, +after I had been bound by Kaffir hands and tossed on Kaffir shoulders, +I felt as if I had been in a scrimmage of mad bulls. I found myself +lying looking up at the moon. It was the edge of the bush, and all +around was the stir of the army getting ready for the road. You know +how a native babbles and chatters over any work he has to do. It says +much for Laputa’s iron hand that now everything was done in silence. I +heard the nickering of horses and the jolt of carts as they turned from +the bush into the path. There was the sound of hurried whispering, and +now and then a sharp command. And all the while I lay, staring at the +moon and wondering if I was going to keep my reason. + +If he who reads this doubts the discomfort of bonds let him try them +for himself. Let him be bound foot and hand and left alone, and in half +an hour he will be screaming for release. The sense of impotence is +stifling, and I felt as if I were buried in some landslip instead of +lying under the open sky, with the night wind fanning my face. I was in +the second stage of panic, which is next door to collapse. I tried to +cry, but could only raise a squeak like a bat. A wheel started to run +round in my head, and, when I looked at the moon, I saw that it was +rotating in time. Things were very bad with me. It was ’Mwanga who +saved me from lunacy. He had been appointed my keeper, and the first I +knew of it was a violent kick in the ribs. I rolled over on the grass +down a short slope. The brute squatted beside me, and prodded me with +his gun-barrel. + +“Ha, Baas,” he said in his queer English. “Once you ordered me out of +your store and treated me like a dog. It is ’Mwanga’s turn now. You are +’Mwanga’s dog, and he will skin you with a sjambok soon.” + +My wandering wits were coming back to me. I looked into his bloodshot +eyes and saw what I had to expect. The cheerful savage went on to +discuss just the kind of beating I should get from him. My bones were +to be uncovered till the lash curled round my heart. Then the jackals +would have the rest of me. + +This was ordinary Kaffir brag, and it made me angry. But I thought it +best to go cannily. + +“If I am to be your slave,” I managed to say, “it would be a pity to +beat me so hard. You would get no more work out of me.” + +’Mwanga grinned wickedly. “You are my slave for a day and a night. +After that we kill you—slowly. You will burn till your legs fall off +and your knees are on the ground, and then you will be chopped small +with knives.” + +Thank God, my courage and common sense were coming back to me. + +“What happens to me to-morrow,” I said, “is the Inkulu’s business, not +yours. I am his prisoner. But if you lift your hand on me to-day so as +to draw one drop of blood the Inkulu will make short work of you. The +vow is upon you, and if you break it you know what happens.” And I +repeated, in a fair imitation of the priest’s voice, the terrible curse +he had pronounced in the cave. + +You should have seen the change in that cur’s face. I had guessed he +was a coward, as he was most certainly a bully, and now I knew it. He +shivered, and drew his hand over his eyes. + +“Nay, Baas,” he pleaded, “it was but a joke. No harm shall come on you +to-day. But tomorrow—” and his ugly face grew more cheerful. + +“To-morrow we shall see what we shall see,” I said stoically, and a +loud drum-beat sounded through the camp. + +It was the signal for moving, for in the east a thin pale line of gold +was beginning to show over the trees. The bonds at my knees and ankles +were cut, and I was bundled on to the back of a horse. Then my feet +were strapped firmly below its belly. The bridle of my beast was tied +to ’Mwanga’s, so that there was little chance of escape even if I had +been unshackled. + +My thoughts were very gloomy. So far all had happened as I planned, but +I seemed to have lost my nerve, and I could not believe in my rescue at +the Letaba, while I thought of Inanda’s Kraal with sheer horror. Last +night I had looked into the heart of darkness, and the sight had +terrified me. What part should I play in the great purification? Most +likely that of the Biblical scapegoat. But the dolour of my mind was +surpassed by the discomfort of my body. I was broken with pains and +weariness, and I had a desperate headache. Also, before we had gone a +mile, I began to think that I should split in two. The paces of my +beast were uneven, to say the best of it, and the bump-bump was like +being on the rack. I remembered that the saints of the Covenant used to +journey to prison this way, especially the great Mr Peden, and I +wondered how they liked it. When I hear of a man doing a brave deed, I +always want to discover whether at the time he was well and comfortable +in body. That, I am certain, is the biggest ingredient in courage, and +those who plan and execute great deeds in bodily weakness have my +homage as truly heroic. For myself, I had not the spirit of a chicken +as I jogged along at ’Mwanga’s side. I wished he would begin to insult +me, if only to distract my mind, but he kept obstinately silent. He was +sulky, and I think rather afraid of me. + +As the sun got up I could see something of the host around me. I am no +hand at guessing numbers, but I should put the fighting men I saw at +not less than twenty thousand. Every man of them was on this side his +prime, and all were armed with good rifles and bandoliers. There were +none of your old roers[1] and decrepit Enfields, which I had seen signs +of in Kaffir kraals. These guns were new, serviceable Mausers, and the +men who bore them looked as if they knew how to handle them. There must +have been long months of training behind this show, and I marvelled at +the man who had organized it. I saw no field-guns, and the little +transport they had was evidently for food only. We did not travel in +ranks like an orthodox column. About a third of the force was mounted, +and this formed the centre. On each wing the infantry straggled far +afield, but there was method in their disorder, for in the bush close +ranks would have been impossible. At any rate we kept wonderfully well +together, and when we mounted a knoll the whole army seemed to move in +one piece. I was well in the rear of the centre column, but from the +crest of a slope I sometimes got a view in front. I could see nothing +of Laputa, who was probably with the van, but in the very heart of the +force I saw the old priest of the Snake, with his treasure carried in +the kind of litter which the Portuguese call a machila, between rows of +guards. A white man rode beside him, whom I judged to be Henriques. +Laputa trusted this fellow, and I wondered why. I had not forgotten the +look on his face while he had stared at the rubies in the cave. I had a +notion that the Portugoose might be an unsuspected ally of mine, though +for blackguard reasons. + +About ten o’clock, as far as I could judge by the sun, we passed +Umvelos’, and took the right bank of the Labongo. There was nothing in +the store to loot, but it was overrun by Kaffirs, who carried off the +benches for firewood. It gave me an odd feeling to see the remains of +the meal at which I had entertained Laputa in the hands of a dozen +warriors. I thought of the long sunny days when I had sat by my +nachtmaal while the Dutch farmers rode in to trade. Now these men were +all dead, and I was on my way to the same bourne. + +Soon the blue line of the Berg rose in the west, and through the corner +of my eye, as I rode, I could see the gap of the Klein Labongo. I +wondered if Arcoll and his men were up there watching us. About this +time I began to be so wretched in body that I ceased to think of the +future. I had had no food for seventeen hours, and I was dropping from +lack of sleep. The ache of my bones was so great that I found myself +crying like a baby. What between pain and weakness and nervous +exhaustion, I was almost at the end of my tether, and should have +fainted dead away if a halt had not been called. But about midday, +after we had crossed the track from Blaauwildebeestefontein to the +Portuguese frontier, we came to the broad, shallow drift of the Klein +Labongo. It is the way of the Kaffirs to rest at noon, and on the other +side of the drift we encamped. I remember the smell of hot earth and +clean water as my horse scrambled up the bank. Then came the smell of +wood-smoke as fires were lit. It seemed an age after we stopped before +my feet were loosed and I was allowed to fall over on the ground. I lay +like a log where I fell, and was asleep in ten seconds. I awoke two +hours later much refreshed, and with a raging hunger. My ankles and +knees had been tied again, but the sleep had taken the worst stiffness +out of my joints. The natives were squatting in groups round their +fires, but no one came near me. I satisfied myself by straining at my +bonds that this solitude gave no chance of escape. I wanted food, and I +shouted on ’Mwanga, but he never came. Then I rolled over into the +shadow of a wacht-en-beetje bush to get out of the glare. + +I saw a Kaffir on the other side of the bush who seemed to be grinning +at me. Slowly he moved round to my side, and stood regarding me with +interest. + +“For God’s sake get me some food,” I said. + +“Ja, Baas,” was the answer; and he disappeared for a minute, and +returned with a wooden bowl of hot mealie-meal porridge, and a calabash +full of water. + +I could not use my hands, so he fed me with the blade of his knife. +Such porridge without salt or cream is beastly food, but my hunger was +so great that I could have eaten a vat of it. + +Suddenly it appeared that the Kaffir had something to say to me. As he +fed me he began to speak in a low voice in English. + +“Baas,” he said, “I come from Ratitswan, and I have a message for you.” + +I guessed that Ratitswan was the native name for Arcoll. There was no +one else likely to send a message. “Ratitswan says,” he went on, “‘Look +out for Dupree’s Drift.’ I will be near you and cut your bonds; then +you must swim across when Ratitswan begins to shoot.” + +The news took all the weight of care from my mind. Colin had got home, +and my friends were out for rescue. So volatile is the mood of 19 that +I veered round from black despair to an unwarranted optimism. I saw +myself already safe, and Laputa’s rising scattered. I saw my hands on +the treasure, and Henriques’ ugly neck below my heel. + +“I don’t know your name,” I said to the Kaffir, “but you are a good +fellow. When I get out of this business I won’t forget you.” + +“There is another message, Baas,” he said. “It is written on paper in a +strange tongue. Turn your head to the bush, and see, I will hold it +inside the bowl, that you may read it.” + +I did as I was told, and found myself looking at a dirty half-sheet of +notepaper, marked by the Kaffir’s thumbs. Some words were written on it +in Wardlaw’s hand; and, characteristically, in Latin, which was not a +bad cipher. I read— + + _“Henricus de Letaba transeunda apud Duprei vada jam nos certiores + fecit.”_[2] + +I had guessed rightly. Henriques was a traitor to the cause he had +espoused. Arcoll’s message had given me new heart, but Wardlaw’s gave +me information of tremendous value. I repented that I had ever +underrated the schoolmaster’s sense. He did not come out of Aberdeen +for nothing. + +I asked the Kaffir how far it was to Dupree’s Drift, and was told three +hours’ march. We should get there after the darkening. It seemed he had +permission to ride with me instead of ’Mwanga, who had no love for the +job. How he managed this I do not know; but Arcoll’s men had their own +ways of doing things. He undertook to set me free when the first shot +was fired at the ford. Meantime I bade him leave me, to avert +suspicion. + +There is a story of one of King Arthur’s knights—Sir Percival, I +think—that once, riding through a forest, he found a lion fighting with +a serpent. He drew his sword and helped the lion, for he thought it was +the more natural beast of the two. To me Laputa was the lion, and +Henriques the serpent; and though I had no good will to either, I was +determined to spoil the serpent’s game. He was after the rubies, as I +had fancied; he had never been after anything else. He had found out +about Arcoll’s preparations, and had sent him a warning, hoping, no +doubt, that, if Laputa’s force was scattered on the Letaba, he would +have a chance of getting off with the necklace in the confusion. If he +succeeded, he would go over the Lebombo to Mozambique, and whatever +happened afterwards in the rising would be no concern of Mr Henriques. +I determined that he should fail; but how to manage it I could not see. +Had I had a pistol, I think I would have shot him; but I had no weapon +of any kind. I could not warn Laputa, for that would seal my own fate, +even if I were believed. It was clear that Laputa must go to Dupree’s +Drift, for otherwise I could not escape; and it was equally clear that +I must find the means of spoiling the Portugoose’s game. + +A shadow fell across the sunlight, and I looked up to see the man I was +thinking of standing before me. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and +his hands in the pockets of his riding-breeches. He stood eyeing me +with a curious smile on his face. + +“Well, Mr Storekeeper,” he said, “you and I have met before under +pleasanter circumstances.” + +I said nothing, my mind being busy with what to do at the drift. + +“We were shipmates, if I am not mistaken,” he said. “I dare say you +found it nicer work smoking on the after-deck than lying here in the +sun.” + +Still I said nothing. If the man had come to mock me, he would get no +change out of David Crawfurd. + +“Tut, tut, don’t be sulky. You have no quarrel with me. Between +ourselves,” and he dropped his voice, “I tried to save you; but you had +seen rather too much to be safe. What devil prompted you to steal a +horse and go to the cave? I don’t blame you for overhearing us; but if +you had had the sense of a louse you would have gone off to the Berg +with your news. By the way, how did you manage it? A cellar, I suppose. +Our friend Laputa was a fool not to take better precautions; but I must +say you acted the drunkard pretty well.” + +The vanity of 19 is an incalculable thing. I rose to the fly. + +“I know the kind of precaution you wanted to take,” I muttered. + +“You heard that too? Well, I confess I am in favour of doing a job +thoroughly when I take it up.” + +“In the Koodoo Flats, for example,” I said. + +He sat down beside me, and laughed softly. “You heard my little story? +You are clever, Mr Storekeeper, but not quite clever enough. What if I +can act a part as well as yourself?” And he thrust his yellow face +close to mine. + +I saw his meaning, and did not for a second believe him; but I had the +sense to temporize. + +“Do you mean to say that you did not kill the Dutchmen, and did not +mean to knife me?” + +“I mean to say that I am not a fool,” he said, lighting another +cigarette. + +“I am a white man, Mr Storekeeper, and I play the white man’s game. Why +do you think I am here? Simply because I was the only man in Africa who +had the pluck to get to the heart of this business. I am here to dish +Laputa, and by God I am going to do it.” + +I was scarcely prepared for such incredible bluff. I knew every word +was a lie, but I wanted to hear more, for the man fascinated me. + +“I suppose you know what will happen to you,” he said, flicking the +ashes from his cigarette. “To-morrow at Inanda’s Kraal, when the vow is +over, they will give you a taste of Kaffir habits. Not death, my +friend—that would be simple enough—but a slow death with every +refinement of horror. You have broken into their sacred places, and you +will be sacrificed to Laputa’s god. I have seen native torture before, +and his own mother would run away shrieking from a man who had endured +it.” + +I said nothing, but the thought made my flesh creep. + +“Well,” he went on, “you’re in an awkward plight, but I think I can +help you. What if I can save your life, Mr Storekeeper? You are trussed +up like a fowl, and can do nothing. I am the only man alive who can +help you. I am willing to do it, too—on my own terms.” + +I did not wait to hear those terms, for I had a shrewd guess what they +would be. My hatred of Henriques rose and choked me. I saw murder and +trickery in his mean eyes and cruel mouth. I could not, to be saved +from the uttermost horror, have made myself his ally. + +“Now listen, Mr Portugoose,” I cried. “You tell me you are a spy. What +if I shout that through the camp? There will be short shrift for you if +Laputa hears it.” + +He laughed loudly. “You are a bigger fool than I took you for. Who +would believe you, my friend. Not Laputa. Not any man in this army. It +would only mean tighter bonds for these long legs of yours.” + +By this time I had given up all thought of diplomacy. “Very well, you +yellow-faced devil, you will hear my answer. I would not take my +freedom from you, though I were to be boiled alive. I know you for a +traitor to the white man’s cause, a dirty I.D.B. swindler, whose name +is a byword among honest men. By your own confession you are a traitor +to this idiot rising. You murdered the Dutchmen and God knows how many +more, and you would fain have murdered me. I pray to Heaven that the +men whose cause you have betrayed and the men whose cause you would +betray may join to stamp the life out of you and send your soul to +hell. I know the game you would have me join in, and I fling your offer +in your face. But I tell you one thing—you are damned yourself. The +white men are out, and you will never get over the Lebombo. From black +or white you will get justice before many hours, and your carcass will +be left to rot in the bush. Get out of my sight, you swine.” + +In that moment I was so borne up in my passion that I forgot my bonds +and my grave danger. I was inspired like a prophet with a sense of +approaching retribution. Henriques heard me out; but his smile changed +to a scowl, and a flush rose on his sallow cheek. + +“Stew in your own juice,” he said, and spat in my face. Then he shouted +in Kaffir that I had insulted him, and demanded that I should be bound +tighter and gagged. + +It was Arcoll’s messenger who answered his summons. That admirable +fellow rushed at me with a great appearance of savagery. He made a +pretence of swathing me up in fresh rawhide ropes, but his knots were +loose and the thing was a farce. He gagged me with what looked like a +piece of wood, but was in reality a chunk of dry banana. And all the +while, till Henriques was out of hearing, he cursed me with a noble +gift of tongues. + +The drums beat for the advance, and once more I was hoisted on my +horse, while Arcoll’s Kaffir tied my bridle to his own. A Kaffir cannot +wink, but he has a way of slanting his eyes which does as well, and as +we moved on he would turn his head to me with this strange grimace. + +Henriques wanted me to help him to get the rubies—that I presumed was +the offer he had meant to make. Well, thought I, I will perish before +the jewel reaches the Portuguese’s hands. He hoped for a stampede when +Arcoll opposed the crossing of the river, and in the confusion intended +to steal the casket. My plan must be to get as near the old priest as +possible before we reached the ford. I spoke to my warder and told him +what I wanted. He nodded, and in the first mile we managed to edge a +good way forward. Several things came to aid us. As I have said, we of +the centre were not marching in close ranks, but in a loose column, and +often it was possible by taking a short cut on rough ground to join the +column some distance ahead. There was a vlei, too, which many +circumvented, but we swam, and this helped our lead. In a couple of +hours we were so near the priest’s litter that I could have easily +tossed a cricket ball on the head of Henriques who rode beside it. + +Very soon the twilight of the winter day began to fall. The far hills +grew pink and mulberry in the sunset, and strange shadows stole over +the bush. Still creeping forward, we found ourselves not twenty yards +behind the litter, while far ahead I saw a broad, glimmering space of +water with a high woody bank beyond. + +“Dupree’s Drift;” whispered my warder. “Courage, Inkoos;[3] in an +hour’s time you will be free.” + +[1] Boer elephant guns. + +[2] “Henriques has already told us about the crossing at Dupree’s +Drift.” + +[3] Great chief. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII +THE DRIFT OF THE LETABA + + +The dusk was gathering fast as we neared the stream. From the stagnant +reaches above and below a fine white mist was rising, but the long +shallows of the ford were clear. My heart was beginning to flutter +wildly, but I kept a tight grip on myself and prayed for patience. As I +stared into the evening my hopes sank. I had expected, foolishly +enough, to see on the far bank some sign of my friends, but the tall +bush was dead and silent. + +The drift slants across the river at an acute angle, roughly S.S.W. I +did not know this at the time, and was amazed to see the van of the +march turn apparently up stream. Laputa’s great voice rang out in some +order which was repeated down the column, and the wide flanks of the +force converged on the narrow cart-track which entered the water. We +had come to a standstill while the front ranks began the passage. + +I sat shaking with excitement, my eyes straining into the gloom. Water +holds the evening light for long, and I could make out pretty clearly +what was happening. The leading horsemen rode into the stream with +Laputa in front. The ford is not the best going, so they had to pick +their way, but in five or ten minutes they were over. Then came some of +the infantry of the flanks, who crossed with the water to their waists, +and their guns held high above their heads. They made a portentous +splashing, but not a sound came from their throats. I shall never know +how Laputa imposed silence on the most noisy race on earth. Several +thousand footmen must have followed the riders, and disappeared into +the far bush. But not a shot came from the bluffs in front. + +I watched with a sinking heart. Arcoll had failed, and there was to be +no check at the drift. There remained for me only the horrors at +Inanda’s Kraal. I resolved to make a dash for freedom, at all costs, +and was in the act of telling Arcoll’s man to cut my bonds, when a +thought occurred to me. + +Henriques was after the rubies, and it was his interest to get Laputa +across the river before the attack began. It was Arcoll’s business to +split the force, and above all to hold up the leader. Henriques would +tell him, and for that matter he must have assumed himself, that Laputa +would ride in the centre of the force. Therefore there would be no +check till the time came for the priest’s litter to cross. + +It was well that I had not had my bonds cut. Henriques came riding +towards me, his face sharp and bright as a ferret’s. He pulled up and +asked if I were safe. My Kaffir showed my strapped elbows and feet, and +tugged at the cords to prove their tightness. + +“Keep him well,” said Henriques, “or you will answer to Inkulu. Forward +with him now and get him through the water.” Then he turned and rode +back. + +My warder, apparently obeying orders, led me out of the column and into +the bush on the right hand. Soon we were abreast of the litter and some +twenty yards to the west of it. The water gleamed through the trees a +few paces in front. I could see the masses of infantry converging on +the drift, and the churning like a cascade which they made in the +passage. + +Suddenly from the far bank came an order. It was Laputa’s voice, thin +and high-pitched, as the Kaffir cries when he wishes his words to carry +a great distance. Henriques repeated it, and the infantry halted. The +riders of the column in front of the litter began to move into the +stream. + +We should have gone with them, but instead we pulled our horses back +into the darkness of the bush. It seemed to me that odd things were +happening around the priest’s litter. Henriques had left it, and dashed +past me so close that I could have touched him. From somewhere among +the trees a pistol-shot cracked into the air. + +As if in answer to a signal the high bluff across the stream burst into +a sheet of fire. “A sheet of fire” sounds odd enough for scientific +warfare. I saw that my friends were using shot-guns and firing with +black powder into the mob in the water. It was humane and it was good +tactics, for the flame in the grey dusk had the appearance of a heavy +battery of ordnance. Once again I heard Henriques’ voice. He was +turning the column to the right. He shouted to them to get into cover, +and take the water higher up. I thought, too, that from far away I +heard Laputa. + +These were maddening seconds. We had left the business of cutting my +bonds almost too late. In the darkness of the bush the strips of hide +could only be felt for, and my Kaffir had a woefully blunt knife. Reims +are always tough to sever, and mine had to be sawn through. Soon my +arms were free, and I was plucking at my other bonds. The worst were +those on my ankles below the horse’s belly. The Kaffir fumbled away in +the dark, and pricked my beast so that he reared and struck out. And +all the while I was choking with impatience, and gabbling prayers to +myself. + +The men on the other side had begun to use ball-cartridge. I could see +through a gap the centre of the river, and it was filled with a mass of +struggling men and horses. I remember that it amazed me that no shot +was fired in return. Then I remembered the vow, and was still more +amazed at the power of a ritual on that savage horde. + +The column was moving past me to the right. It was a disorderly rabble +which obeyed Henriques’ orders. Bullets began to sing through the +trees, and one rider was hit in the shoulder and came down with a +crash. This increased the confusion, for most of them dismounted and +tried to lead their horses in the cover. The infantry coming in from +the wings collided with them, and there was a struggle of excited +beasts and men in the thickets of thorn and mopani. And still my Kaffir +was trying to get my ankles loose as fast as a plunging horse would let +him. At last I was free, and dropped stiffly to the ground. I fell +prone on my face with cramp, and when I got up I rolled like a drunk +man. Here I made a great blunder. I should have left my horse with my +Kaffir, and bidden him follow me. But I was too eager to be cautious, +so I let it go, and crying to the Kaffir to await me, I ran towards the +litter. + +Henriques had laid his plans well. The column had abandoned the priest, +and by the litter were only the two bearers. As I caught sight of them +one fell with a bullet in his chest. The other, wild with fright, kept +turning his head to every quarter of the compass. Another bullet passed +close to his head. This was too much for him, and with a yell he ran +away. + +As I broke through the thicket I looked to the quarter whence the +bullets had come. These, I could have taken my oath, were not fired by +my friends on the farther bank. It was close-quarter shooting, and I +knew who had done it. But I saw nobody. The last few yards of the road +were clear, and only out in the water was the struggling shouting mass +of humanity. I saw a tall man on a big horse plunge into the river on +his way back. It must be Laputa returning to command the panic. + +My business was not with Laputa but with Henriques. The old priest in +the litter, who had been sleeping, had roused himself, and was looking +vacantly round him. He did not look long. A third bullet, fired from a +dozen yards away, drilled a hole in his forehead. He fell back dead, +and the ivory box, which lay on his lap, tilted forward on the ground. + +I had no weapon of any kind, and I did not want the fourth bullet for +myself. Henriques was too pretty a shot to trifle with. I waited +quietly on the edge of the shade till the Portugoose came out of the +thicket. I saw him running forward with a rifle in his hand. A whinny +from a horse told me that somewhere near his beast was tied up. It was +all but dark, but it seemed to me that I could see the lust of greed in +his eyes as he rushed to the litter. + +Very softly I stole behind him. He tore off the lid of the box, and +pulled out the great necklace. For a second it hung in his hands, but +only for a second. So absorbed was he that he did not notice me +standing full before him. Nay, he lifted his head, and gave me the +finest chance of my life. I was something of a boxer, and all my +accumulated fury went into the blow. It caught him on the point of the +chin, and his neck cricked like the bolt of a rifle. He fell limply on +the ground and the jewels dropped from his hand. + +I picked them up and stuffed them into my breeches pocket. + +Then I pulled the pistol out of his belt. It was six-chambered, and I +knew that only three had been emptied. I remembered feeling +extraordinarily cool and composed, and yet my wits must have been +wandering or I would have never taken the course I did. + +The right thing to do—on Arcoll’s instructions—was to make for the +river and swim across to my friends. But Laputa was coming back, and I +dreaded meeting him. Laputa seemed to my heated fancy omnipresent. I +thought of him as covering the whole bank of the river, whereas I might +easily have crossed a little farther down, and made my way up the other +bank to my friends. It was plain that Laputa intended to evade the +patrol, not to capture it, and there, consequently, I should be safe. +The next best thing was to find Arcoll’s Kaffir, who was not twenty +yards away, get some sort of horse, and break for the bush. Long before +morning we should have been over the Berg and in safety. Nay, if I +wanted a mount, there was Henriques’ whinnying a few paces off. + +Instead I did the craziest thing of all. With the jewels in one pocket, +and the Portugoose’s pistol in the other, I started running back the +road we had come. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV +I CARRY THE COLLAR OF PRESTER JOHN + + +I ran till my breath grew short, for some kind of swift motion I had to +have or choke. The events of the last few minutes had inflamed my +brain. For the first time in my life I had seen men die by +violence—nay, by brutal murder. I had put my soul into the blow which +laid out Henriques, and I was still hot with the pride of it. Also I +had in my pocket the fetich of the whole black world; I had taken their +Ark of the Covenant, and soon Laputa would be on my trail. Fear, pride, +and a blind exultation all throbbed in my veins. I must have run three +miles before I came to my sober senses. + +I put my ear to the ground, but heard no sound of pursuit. Laputa, I +argued, would have enough to do for a little, shepherding his flock +over the water. He might surround and capture the patrol, or he might +evade it; the vow prevented him from fighting it. On the whole I was +clear that he would ignore it and push on for the rendezvous. All this +would take time, and the business of the priest would have to wait. +When Henriques came to he would no doubt have a story to tell, and the +scouts would be on my trail. I wished I had shot the Portugoose while I +was at the business. It would have been no murder, but a righteous +execution. + +Meanwhile I must get off the road. The sand had been disturbed by an +army, so there was little fear of my steps being traced. Still it was +only wise to leave the track which I would be assumed to have taken, +for Laputa would guess I had fled back the way to +Blaauwildebeestefontein. I turned into the bush, which here was thin +and sparse like whins on a common. + +The Berg must be my goal. Once on the plateau I would be inside the +white man’s lines. Down here in the plains I was in the country of my +enemies. Arcoll meant to fight on the uplands when it came to fighting. +The black man might rage as he pleased in his own flats, but we stood +to defend the gates of the hills. Therefore over the Berg I must be +before morning, or there would be a dead man with no tales to tell. + +I think that even at the start of that night’s work I realized the +exceeding precariousness of my chances. Some twenty miles of bush and +swamp separated me from the foot of the mountains. After that there was +the climbing of them, for at the point opposite where I now stood the +Berg does not descend sharply on the plain, but is broken into +foot-hills around the glens of the Klein Letaba and the Letsitela. From +the spot where these rivers emerge on the flats to the crown of the +plateau is ten miles at the shortest. I had a start of an hour or so, +but before dawn I had to traverse thirty miles of unknown and difficult +country. Behind me would follow the best trackers in Africa, who knew +every foot of the wilderness. It was a wild hazard, but it was my only +hope. At this time I was feeling pretty courageous. For one thing I had +Henriques’ pistol close to my leg, and for another I still thrilled +with the satisfaction of having smitten his face. + +I took the rubies, and stowed them below my shirt and next my skin. I +remember taking stock of my equipment and laughing at the humour of it. +One of the heels was almost twisted off my boots, and my shirt and +breeches were old at the best and ragged from hard usage. The whole +outfit would have been dear at five shillings, or seven-and-six with +the belt thrown in. Then there was the Portugoose’s pistol, costing, +say, a guinea; and last, the Prester’s collar, worth several millions. + +What was more important than my clothing was my bodily strength. I was +still very sore from the bonds and the jog of that accursed horse, but +exercise was rapidly suppling my joints. About five hours ago I had +eaten a filling, though not very sustaining, meal, and I thought I +could go on very well till morning. But I was still badly in arrears +with my sleep, and there was no chance of my snatching a minute till I +was over the Berg. It was going to be a race against time, and I swore +that I would drive my body to the last ounce of strength. + +Moonrise was still an hour or two away, and the sky was bright with +myriad stars. I knew now what starlight meant, for there was ample +light to pick my way by. I steered by the Southern Cross, for I was +aware that the Berg ran north and south, and with that constellation on +my left hand I was bound to reach it sooner or later. The bush closed +around me with its mysterious dull green shades, and trees, which in +the daytime were thin scrub, now loomed like tall timber. It was very +eerie moving, a tiny fragment of mortality, in that great wide silent +wilderness, with the starry vault, like an impassive celestial +audience, watching with many eyes. They cheered me, those stars. In my +hurry and fear and passion they spoke of the old calm dignities of man. +I felt less alone when I turned my face to the lights which were +slanting alike on this uncanny bush and on the homely streets of +Kirkcaple. + +The silence did not last long. First came the howl of a wolf, to be +answered by others from every quarter of the compass. This serenade +went on for a bit, till the jackals chimed in with their harsh bark. I +had been caught by darkness before this when hunting on the Berg, but I +was not afraid of wild beasts. That is one terror of the bush which +travellers’ tales have put too high. It was true that I might meet a +hungry lion, but the chance was remote, and I had my pistol. Once +indeed a huge animal bounded across the road a little in front of me. +For a moment I took him for a lion, but on reflection I was inclined to +think him a very large bush-pig. + +By this time I was out of the thickest bush and into a piece of +parkland with long, waving tambuki grass, which the Kaffirs would burn +later. The moon was coming up, and her faint rays silvered the flat +tops of the mimosa trees. I could hear and feel around me the rustling +of animals. Once or twice a big buck—an eland or a koodoo—broke cover, +and at the sight of me went off snorting down the slope. Also there +were droves of smaller game—rhebok and springbok and duikers—which +brushed past at full gallop without even noticing me. + +The sight was so novel that it set me thinking. That shy wild things +should stampede like this could only mean that they had been thoroughly +scared. Now obviously the thing that scared them must be on this side +of the Letaba. This must mean that Laputa’s army, or a large part of +it, had not crossed at Dupree’s Drift, but had gone up the stream to +some higher ford. If that was so, I must alter my course; so I bore +away to the right for a mile or two, making a line due north-west. + +In about an hour’s time the ground descended steeply, and I saw before +me the shining reaches of a river. I had the chief features of the +countryside clear in my mind, both from old porings over maps, and from +Arcoll’s instructions. This stream must be the Little Letaba, and I +must cross it if I would get to the mountains. I remembered that +Majinje’s kraal stood on its left bank, and higher up in its valley in +the Berg ’Mpefu lived. At all costs the kraals must be avoided. Once +across it I must make for the Letsitela, another tributary of the Great +Letaba, and by keeping the far bank of that stream I should cross the +mountains to the place on the plateau of the Wood Bush which Arcoll had +told me would be his headquarters. + +It is easy to talk about crossing a river, and looking to-day at the +slender streak on the map I am amazed that so small a thing should have +given me such ugly tremors. Yet I have rarely faced a job I liked so +little. The stream ran yellow and sluggish under the clear moon. On the +near side a thick growth of bush clothed the bank, but on the far side +I made out a swamp with tall bulrushes. The distance across was no more +than fifty yards, but I would have swum a mile more readily in deep +water. The place stank of crocodiles. There was no ripple to break the +oily flow except where a derelict branch swayed with the current. +Something in the stillness, the eerie light on the water, and the +rotting smell of the swamp made that stream seem unhallowed and deadly. + +I sat down and considered the matter. Crocodiles had always terrified +me more than any created thing, and to be dragged by iron jaws to death +in that hideous stream seemed to me the most awful of endings. Yet +cross it I must if I were to get rid of my human enemies. I remembered +a story of an escaped prisoner during the war who had only the Komati +River between him and safety. But he dared not enter it, and was +recaptured by a Boer commando. I was determined that such cowardice +should not be laid to my charge. If I was to die, I would at least have +given myself every chance of life. So I braced myself as best I could, +and looked for a place to enter. + +The veld-craft I had mastered had taught me a few things. One was that +wild animals drink at night, and that they have regular drinking +places. I thought that the likeliest place for crocodiles was at or +around such spots, and, therefore, I resolved to take the water away +from a drinking place. I went up the bank, noting where the narrow +bush-paths emerged on the water-side. I scared away several little +buck, and once the violent commotion in the bush showed that I had +frightened some bigger animal, perhaps a hartebeest. Still following +the bank I came to a reach where the undergrowth was unbroken and the +water looked deeper. + +Suddenly—I fear I must use this adverb often, for all the happenings on +that night were sudden—I saw a biggish animal break through the reeds +on the far side. It entered the water and, whether wading or swimming I +could not see, came out a little distance. Then some sense must have +told it of my presence, for it turned and with a grunt made its way +back. + +I saw that it was a big wart-hog, and began to think. Pig, unlike other +beasts, drink not at night, but in the daytime. The hog had, therefore, +not come to drink, but to swim across. Now, I argued, he would choose a +safe place, for the wart-hog, hideous though he is, is a wise beast. +What was safe for him would, therefore, in all likelihood be safe for +me. + +With this hope to comfort me I prepared to enter. My first care was the +jewels, so, feeling them precarious in my shirt, I twined the collar +round my neck and clasped it. The snake-clasp was no flimsy device of +modern jewellery, and I had no fear but that it would hold. I held the +pistol between my teeth, and with a prayer to God slipped into the +muddy waters. + +I swam in the wild way of a beginner who fears cramp. The current was +light and the water moderately warm, but I seemed to go very slowly, +and I was cold with apprehension. In the middle it suddenly shallowed, +and my breast came against a mudshoal. I thought it was a crocodile, +and in my confusion the pistol dropped from my mouth and disappeared. + +I waded a few steps and then plunged into deep water again. Almost +before I knew, I was among the bulrushes, with my feet in the slime of +the bank. With feverish haste I scrambled through the reeds and up +through roots and undergrowth to the hard soil. I was across, but, +alas, I had lost my only weapon. + +The swim and the anxiety had tired me considerably, and though it meant +delay, I did not dare to continue with the weight of water-logged +clothes to impede me. I found a dry sheltered place in the bush and +stripped to the skin. I emptied my boots and wrung out my shirt and +breeches, while the Prester’s jewels were blazing on my neck. Here was +a queer counterpart to Laputa in the cave! + +The change revived me, and I continued my way in better form. So far +there had been no sign of pursuit. Before me the Letsitela was the only +other stream, and from what I remembered of its character near the Berg +I thought I should have little trouble. It was smaller than the Klein +Letaba, and a rushing torrent where shallows must be common. + +I kept running till I felt my shirt getting dry on my back. Then I +restored the jewels to their old home, and found their cool touch on my +breast very comforting. The country was getting more broken as I +advanced. Little kopjes with thickets of wild bananas took the place of +the dead levels. Long before I reached the Letsitela, I saw that I was +right in my guess. It ran, a brawling mountain stream, in a narrow rift +in the bush. I crossed it almost dry-shod on the boulders above a +little fall, stopping for a moment to drink and lave my brow. + +After that the country changed again. The wood was now getting like +that which clothed the sides of the Berg. There were tall +timber-trees—yellowwood, sneezewood, essenwood, stinkwood—and the +ground was carpeted with thick grass and ferns. The sight gave me my +first earnest of safety. I was approaching my own country. Behind me +was heathendom and the black fever flats. In front were the cool +mountains and bright streams, and the guns of my own folk. + +As I struggled on—for I was getting very footsore and weary—I became +aware of an odd sound in my rear. It was as if something were following +me. I stopped and listened with a sudden dread. Could Laputa’s trackers +have got up with me already? But the sound was not of human feet. It +was as if some heavy animal were plunging through the undergrowth. At +intervals came the soft pad of its feet on the grass. + +It must be the hungry lion of my nightmare, and Henriques’ pistol was +in the mud of the Klein Letaba! The only thing was a tree, and I had +sprung for one and scrambled wearily into the first branches when a +great yellow animal came into the moonlight. + +Providence had done kindly in robbing me of my pistol. The next minute +I was on the ground with Colin leaping on me and baying with joy. I +hugged that blessed hound and buried my head in his shaggy neck, +sobbing like a child. How he had traced me I can never tell. The secret +belongs only to the Maker of good and faithful dogs. + +With him by my side I was a new man. The awesome loneliness had gone. I +felt as if he were a message from my own people to take me safely home. +He clearly knew the business afoot, for he padded beside me with never +a glance to right or left. Another time he would have been snowking in +every thicket; but now he was on duty, a serious, conscientious dog +with no eye but for business. + +The moon went down, and the starry sky was our only light. The thick +gloom which brooded over the landscape pointed to the night being far +gone. I thought I saw a deeper blackness ahead which might be the line +of the Berg. Then came that period of utter stillness when every bush +sound is hushed and the world seems to swoon. I felt almost impious +hurrying through that profound silence, when not even the leaves +stirred or a frog croaked. + +Suddenly as we came over a rise a little wind blew on the back of my +head, and a bitter chill came into the air. I knew from nights spent in +the open that it was the precursor of dawn. Sure enough, as I glanced +back, far over the plain a pale glow was stealing upwards into the sky. +In a few minutes the pall melted into an airy haze, and above me I saw +the heavens shot with tremors of blue light. Then the foreground began +to clear, and there before me, with their heads still muffled in +vapour, were the mountains. + +Xenophon’s Ten Thousand did not hail the sea more gladly than I +welcomed those frowning ramparts of the Berg. + +Once again my weariness was eased. I cried to Colin, and together we +ran down into the wide, shallow trough which lies at the foot of the +hills. As the sun rose above the horizon, the black masses changed to +emerald and rich umber, and the fleecy mists of the summits opened and +revealed beyond shining spaces of green. Some lines of Shakespeare ran +in my head, which I have always thought the most beautiful of all +poetry: + +“Night’s candles are burned out, and jocund day + +Walks tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.” + + +Up there among the clouds was my salvation. Like the Psalmist, I lifted +my eyes to the hills from whence came my aid. + +Hope is a wonderful restorative. To be near the hills, to smell their +odours, to see at the head of the glens the lines of the plateau where +were white men and civilization—all gave me new life and courage. Colin +saw my mood, and spared a moment now and then to inspect a hole or a +covert. Down in the shallow trough I saw the links of a burn, the +Machudi, which flowed down the glen it was my purpose to ascend. Away +to the north in the direction of Majinje’s were patches of Kaffir +tillage, and I thought I discerned the smoke from fires. Majinje’s +womankind would be cooking their morning meal. To the south ran a thick +patch of forest, but I saw beyond it the spur of the mountain over +which runs the highroad to Wesselsburg. The clear air of dawn was like +wine in my blood. I was not free, but I was on the threshold of +freedom. If I could only reach my friends with the Prester’s collar in +my shirt, I would have performed a feat which would never be forgotten. +I would have made history by my glorious folly. Breakfastless and +footsore, I was yet a proud man as I crossed the hollow to the mouth of +Machudi’s glen. + +My chickens had been counted too soon, and there was to be no hatching. +Colin grew uneasy, and began to sniff up wind. I was maybe a quarter of +a mile from the glen foot, plodding through the long grass of the +hollow, when the behaviour of the dog made me stop and listen. In that +still air sounds carry far, and I seemed to hear the noise of feet +brushing through cover. The noise came both from north and south, from +the forest and from the lower course of the Machudi. + +I dropped into shelter, and running with bent back got to the summit of +a little bush-clad knoll. It was Colin who first caught sight of my +pursuers. He was staring at a rift in the trees, and suddenly gave a +short bark. I looked and saw two men, running hard, cross the grass and +dip into the bed of the stream. A moment later I had a glimpse of +figures on the edge of the forest, moving fast to the mouth of the +glen. The pursuit had not followed me; it had waited to cut me off. +Fool that I was, I had forgotten the wonders of Kaffir telegraphy. It +had been easy for Laputa to send word thirty miles ahead to stop any +white man who tried to cross the Berg. + +And then I knew that I was very weary. + + + + +CHAPTER XV +MORNING IN THE BERG + + +I was perhaps half a mile the nearer to the glen, and was likely to get +there first. And after that? I could see the track winding by the +waterside and then crossing a hill-shoulder which diverted the stream. +It was a road a man could scarcely ride, and a tired man would have a +hard job to climb. I do not think that I had any hope. My exhilaration +had died as suddenly as it had been born. I saw myself caught and +carried off to Laputa, who must now be close on the rendezvous at +Inanda’s Kraal. I had no weapon to make a fight for it. My foemen were +many and untired. It must be only a matter of minutes till I was in +their hands. + +More in a dogged fury of disappointment than with any hope of escape I +forced my sore legs up the glen. Ten minutes ago I had been exulting in +the glories of the morning, and now the sun was not less bright or the +colours less fair, but the heart had gone out of the spectator. At +first I managed to get some pace out of myself, partly from fear and +partly from anger. But I soon found that my body had been tried too +far. I could plod along, but to save my life I could not have hurried. +Any healthy savage could have caught me in a hundred yards. + +The track, I remember, was overhung with creepers, and often I had to +squeeze through thickets of tree-ferns. Countless little brooks ran +down from the hillside, threads of silver among the green pastures. +Soon I left the stream and climbed up on the shoulder, where the road +was not much better than a precipice. Every step was a weariness. I +could hardly drag one foot after the other, and my heart was beating +like the fanners of a mill, I had spasms of acute sickness, and it took +all my resolution to keep me from lying down by the roadside. + +At last I was at the top of the shoulder and could look back. There was +no sign of anybody on the road so far as I could see. Could I have +escaped them? I had been in the shadow of the trees for the first part, +and they might have lost sight of me and concluded that I had avoided +the glen or tried one of the faces. Before me, I remember, there +stretched the upper glen, a green cup-shaped hollow with the sides +scarred by ravines. There was a high waterfall in one of them which was +white as snow against the red rocks. My wits must have been shaky, for +I took the fall for a snowdrift, and wondered sillily why the Berg had +grown so Alpine. + +A faint spasm of hope took me into that green cup. The bracken was as +thick as on the Pentlands, and there was a multitude of small lovely +flowers in the grass. It was like a water-meadow at home, such a place +as I had often in boyhood searched for moss-cheepers’ and corncrakes’ +eggs. Birds were crying round me as I broke this solitude, and one +small buck—a klipspringer—rose from my feet and dashed up one of the +gullies. Before me was a steep green wall with the sky blue above it. +Beyond it was safety, but as my sweat-dimmed eyes looked at it I knew +that I could never reach it. + +Then I saw my pursuers. High up on the left side, and rounding the rim +of the cup, were little black figures. They had not followed my trail, +but, certain of my purpose, had gone forward to intercept me. I +remember feeling a puny weakling compared with those lusty natives who +could make such good going on steep mountains. They were certainly no +men of the plains, but hillmen, probably some remnants of old Machudi’s +tribe who still squatted in the glen. Machudi was a blackguard chief +whom the Boers long ago smashed in one of their native wars. He was a +fierce old warrior and had put up a good fight to the last, till a +hired impi of Swazis had surrounded his hiding-place in the forest and +destroyed him. A Boer farmer on the plateau had his skull, and used to +drink whisky out of it when he was merry. + +The sight of the pursuit was the last straw. I gave up hope, and my +intentions were narrowed to one frantic desire—to hide the jewels. +Patriotism, which I had almost forgotten, flickered up in that crisis. +At any rate Laputa should not have the Snake. If he drove out the white +man, he should not clasp the Prester’s rubies on his great neck. + +There was no cover in the green cup, so I turned up the ravine on the +right side. The enemy, so far as I could judge, were on the left and in +front, and in the gully I might find a pot-hole to bury the necklet in. +Only a desperate resolution took me through the tangle of juniper +bushes into the red screes of the gully. At first I could not find what +I sought. The stream in the ravine slid down a long slope like a +mill-race, and the sides were bare and stony. Still I plodded on, +helping myself with a hand on Colin’s back, for my legs were numb with +fatigue. By-and-by the gully narrowed, and I came to a flat place with +a long pool. Beyond was a little fall, and up this I climbed into a +network of tiny cascades. Over one pool hung a dead tree-fern, and a +bay from it ran into a hole of the rock. I slipped the jewels far into +the hole, where they lay on the firm sand, showing odd lights through +the dim blue water. Then I scrambled down again to the flat space and +the pool, and looked round to see if any one had reached the edge of +the ravine. There was no sign as yet of the pursuit, so I dropped +limply on the shingle and waited. For I had suddenly conceived a plan. + +As my breath came back to me my wits came back from their wandering. +These men were not there to kill me, but to capture me. They could know +nothing of the jewels, for Laputa would never have dared to make the +loss of the sacred Snake public. Therefore they would not suspect what +I had done, and would simply lead me to Laputa at Inanda’s Kraal. I +began to see the glimmerings of a plan for saving my life, and by God’s +grace, for saving my country from the horrors of rebellion. The more I +thought the better I liked it. It demanded a bold front, and it might +well miscarry, but I had taken such desperate hazards during the past +days that I was less afraid of fortune. Anyhow, the choice lay between +certain death and a slender chance of life, and it was easy to decide. + +Playing football, I used to notice how towards the end of a game I +might be sore and weary, without a kick in my body; but when I had a +straight job of tackling a man my strength miraculously returned. It +was even so now. I lay on my side, luxuriating in being still, and +slowly a sort of vigour crept back into my limbs. Perhaps a half-hour +of rest was given me before, on the lip of the gully, I saw figures +appear. Looking down I saw several men who had come across from the +opposite side of the valley, scrambling up the stream. I got to my +feet, with Colin bristling beside me, and awaited them with the +stiffest face I could muster. + +As I expected, they were Machudi’s men. I recognized them by the red +ochre in their hair and their copper-wire necklets. Big fellows they +were, long-legged and deep in the chest, the true breed of +mountaineers. I admired their light tread on the slippery rock. It was +hopeless to think of evading such men in their own hills. + +The men from the side joined the men in front, and they stood looking +at me from about twelve yards off. They were armed only with +knobkerries, and very clearly were no part of Laputa’s army. This made +their errand plain to me. + +“Halt!” I said in Kaffir, as one of them made a hesitating step to +advance. “Who are you and what do you seek?” + +There was no answer, but they looked at me curiously. Then one made a +motion with his stick. Colin gave a growl, and would have been on him +if I had not kept a hand on his collar. The rash man drew back, and all +stood stiff and perplexed. + +“Keep your hands by your side,” I said, “or the dog, who has a devil, +will devour you. One of you speak for the rest and tell me your +purpose.” + +For a moment I had a wild notion that they might be friends, some of +Arcoll’s scouts, and out to help me. But the first words shattered the +fancy. + +“We are sent by Inkulu,” the biggest of them said. “He bade us bring +you to him.” + +“And what if I refuse to go?” + +“Then, Baas, we must take you to him. We are under the vow of the +Snake.” + +“Vow of fiddlestick!” I cried. “Who do you think is the bigger chief, +the Inkulu or Ratitswan? I tell you Ratitswan is now driving Inkulu +before him as a wind drives rotten leaves. It will be well for you, men +of Machudi, to make peace with Ratitswan and take me to him on the +Berg. If you bring me to him, I and he will reward you; but if you do +Inkulu’s bidding you will soon be hunted like buck out of your hills.” + +They grinned at one another, but I could see that my words had no +effect. Laputa had done his business too well. + +The spokesman shrugged his shoulders in the way the Kaffirs have. “We +wish you no ill, Baas, but we have been bidden to take you to Inkulu. +We cannot disobey the command of the Snake.” + +My weakness was coming on me again, and I could talk no more. I sat +down plump on the ground, almost falling into the pool. “Take me to +Inkulu,” I stammered with a dry throat, “I do not fear him;” and I +rolled half-fainting on my back. + +These clansmen of Machudi were decent fellows. One of them had some +Kaffir beer in a calabash, which he gave me to drink. The stuff was +thin and sickly, but the fermentation in it did me good. I had the +sense to remember my need of sleep. “The day is young,” I said, “and I +have come far. I ask to be allowed to sleep for an hour.” + +The men made no difficulty, and with my head between Colin’s paws I +slipped into dreamless slumber. + +When they wakened me the sun was beginning to climb the sky, I judged +it to be about eight o’clock. They had made a little fire and roasted +mealies. Some of the food they gave me, and I ate it thankfully. I was +feeling better, and I think a pipe would have almost completed my cure. + +But when I stood up I found that I was worse than I had thought. The +truth is, I was leg-weary, which you often see in horses, but rarely in +men. What the proper explanation is I do not know, but the muscles +simply refuse to answer the direction of the will. I found my legs +sprawling like a child’s who is learning to walk. + +“If you want me to go to the Inkulu, you must carry me,” I said, as I +dropped once more on the ground. + +The men nodded, and set to work to make a kind of litter out of their +knobkerries and some old ropes they carried. As they worked and +chattered I looked idly at the left bank of the ravine—that is, the +left as you ascend it. Some of Machudi’s men had come down there, and, +though the place looked sheer and perilous, I saw how they had managed +it. I followed out bit by bit the track upwards, not with any thought +of escape, but merely to keep my mind under control. The right road was +from the foot of the pool up a long shelf to a clump of juniper. Then +there was an easy chimney; then a piece of good hand-and-foot climbing; +and last, another ledge which led by an easy gradient to the top. I +figured all this out as I have heard a condemned man will count the +windows of the houses on his way to the scaffold. + +Presently the litter was ready, and the men made signs to me to get +into it. They carried me down the ravine and up the Machudi burn to the +green walls at its head. I admired their bodily fitness, for they bore +me up those steep slopes with never a halt, zigzagging in the proper +style of mountain transport. In less than an hour we had topped the +ridge, and the plateau was before me. + +It looked very homelike and gracious, rolling in gentle undulations to +the western horizon, with clumps of wood in its hollows. Far away I saw +smoke rising from what should be the village of the Iron Kranz. It was +the country of my own people, and my captors behoved to go cautiously. +They were old hands at veld-craft, and it was wonderful the way in +which they kept out of sight even on the bare ridges. Arcoll could have +taught them nothing in the art of scouting. At an incredible pace they +hurried me along, now in a meadow by a stream side, now through a patch +of forest, and now skirting a green shoulder of hill. + +Once they clapped down suddenly, and crawled into the lee of some thick +bracken. Then very quietly they tied my hands and feet, and, not +urgently, wound a dirty length of cotton over my mouth. Colin was +meantime held tight and muzzled with a kind of bag strapped over his +head. To get this over his snapping jaws took the whole strength of the +party. I guessed that we were nearing the highroad which runs from the +plateau down the Great Letaba valley to the mining township of +Wesselsburg, away out on the plain. The police patrols must be on this +road, and there was risk in crossing. Sure enough I seemed to catch a +jingle of bridles as if from some company of men riding in haste. + +We lay still for a little till the scouts came back and reported the +coast clear. Then we made a dart for the road, crossed it, and got into +cover on the other side, where the ground sloped down to the Letaba +glen. I noticed in crossing that the dust of the highway was thick with +the marks of shod horses. I was very near and yet very far from my own +people. + +Once in the rocky gorge of the Letaba we advanced with less care. We +scrambled up a steep side gorge and came on to the small plateau from +which the Cloud Mountains rise. After that I was so tired that I +drowsed away, heedless of the bumping of the litter. We went up and up, +and when I next opened my eyes we had gone through a pass into a hollow +of the hills. There was a flat space a mile or two square, and all +round it stern black ramparts of rock. This must be Inanda’s Kraal, a +strong place if ever one existed, for a few men could defend all the +approaches. Considering that I had warned Arcoll of this rendezvous, I +marvelled that no attempt had been made to hold the entrance. The place +was impregnable unless guns were brought up to the heights. I remember +thinking of a story I had heard—how in the war Beyers took his guns +into the Wolkberg, and thereby saved them from our troops. Could Arcoll +be meditating the same exploit? + +Suddenly I heard the sound of loud voices, and my litter was dropped +roughly on the ground. I woke to clear consciousness in the midst of +pandemonium. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI +INANDA’S KRAAL + + +The vow was at an end. In place of the silent army of yesterday a mob +of maddened savages surged around me. They were chanting a wild song, +and brandishing spears and rifles to its accompaniment. From their +bloodshot eyes stared the lust of blood, the fury of conquest, and all +the aboriginal passions on which Laputa had laid his spell. In my mind +ran a fragment from Laputa’s prayer in the cave about the “Terrible +Ones.” Machudi’s men—stout fellows, they held their ground as long as +they could—were swept out of the way, and the wave of black savagery +seemed to close over my head. + +I thought my last moment had come. Certainly it had but for Colin. The +bag had been taken from his head, and the fellow of Machudi’s had +dropped the rope round his collar. In a red fury of wrath the dog +leaped at my enemies. Though every man of them was fully armed, they +fell back, for I have noticed always that Kaffirs are mortally afraid +of a white man’s dog. Colin had the sense to keep beside me. Growling +like a thunderstorm he held the ring around my litter. + +The breathing space would not have lasted long, but it gave me time to +get to my feet. My wrists and feet had been unbound long before, and +the rest had cured my leg-weariness. I stood up in that fierce circle +with the clear knowledge that my life hung by a hair. + +“Take me to Inkulu,” I cried. “Dogs and fools, would you despise his +orders? If one hair of my head is hurt, he will flay you alive. Show me +the way to him, and clear out of it.” + +I dare say there was a break in my voice, for I was dismally +frightened, but there must have been sufficient authority to get me a +hearing. Machudi’s men closed up behind me, and repeated my words with +flourishes and gestures. But still the circle held. No man came nearer +me, but none moved so as to give me passage. + +Then I screwed up my courage, and did the only thing possible. I walked +straight into the circle, knowing well that I was running no light +risk. My courage, as I have already explained, is of little use unless +I am doing something. I could not endure another minute of sitting +still with those fierce eyes on me. + +The circle gave way. Sullenly they made a road for me, closing up +behind on my guards, so that Machudi’s men were swallowed in the mob, +Alone I stalked forward with all that huge yelling crowd behind me. + +I had not far to go. Inanda’s Kraal was a cluster of kyas and +rondavels, shaped in a half-moon, with a flat space between the houses, +where grew a big merula tree. All around was a medley of little fires, +with men squatted beside them. Here and there a party had finished +their meal, and were swaggering about with a great shouting. The mob +into which I had fallen was of this sort, and I saw others within the +confines of the camp. But around the merula tree there was a gathering +of chiefs, if I could judge by the comparative quiet and dignity of the +men, who sat in rows on the ground. A few were standing, and among them +I caught sight of Laputa’s tall figure. I strode towards it, wondering +if the chiefs would let me pass. + +The hubbub of my volunteer attendants brought the eyes of the company +round to me. In a second it seemed every man was on his feet. I could +only pray that Laputa would get to me before his friends had time to +spear me. I remember I fixed my eyes on a spur of hill beyond the +kraal, and walked on with the best resolution I could find. Already I +felt in my breast some of the long thin assegais of Umbooni’s men. + +But Laputa did not intend that I should be butchered. A word from him +brought his company into order, and the next thing I knew I was facing +him, where he stood in front of the biggest kya, with Henriques beside +him, and some of the northern indunas. Henriques looked ghastly in the +clear morning light, and he had a linen rag bound round his head and +jaw, as if he suffered from toothache. His face was more livid, his +eyes more bloodshot, and at the sight of me his hand went to his belt, +and his teeth snapped. But he held his peace, and it was Laputa who +spoke. He looked straight through me, and addressed Machudi’s men. + +“You have brought back the prisoner. That is well, and your service +will be remembered. Go to ’Mpefu’s camp on the hill there, and you will +be given food.” + +The men departed, and with them fell away the crowd which had followed +me. I was left, very giddy and dazed, to confront Laputa and his +chiefs. The whole scene was swimming before my eyes. I remember there +was a clucking of hens from somewhere behind the kraal, which called up +ridiculous memories. I was trying to remember the plan I had made in +Machudi’s glen. I kept saying to myself like a parrot: “The army cannot +know about the jewels. Laputa must keep his loss secret. I can get my +life from him if I offer to give them back.” It had sounded a good +scheme three hours before, but with the man’s hard face before me, it +seemed a frail peg to hang my fate on. + +Laputa’s eye fell on me, a clear searching eye with a question in it. + +There was something he was trying to say to me which he dared not put +into words. I guessed what the something was, for I saw his glance run +over my shirt and my empty pockets. + +“You have made little of your treachery,” he said. “Fool, did you think +to escape me? I could bring you back from the ends of the earth.” + +“There was no treachery,” I replied. “Do you blame a prisoner for +trying to escape? When shooting began I found myself free, and I took +the road for home. Ask Machudi’s men and they will tell you that I came +quietly with them, when I saw that the game was up.” + +He shrugged his shoulders. “It matters very little what you did. You +are here now.— Tie him up and put him in my kya,” he said to the +bodyguard. “I have something to say to him before he dies.” + +As the men laid hands on me, I saw the exultant grin on Henriques’ +face. It was more than I could endure. + +“Stop,” I said. “You talk of traitors, Mr Laputa. There is the biggest +and blackest at your elbow. That man sent word to Arcoll about your +crossing at Dupree’s Drift. At our outspan at noon yesterday he came to +me and offered me my liberty if I would help him. He told me he was a +spy, and I flung his offer in his face. It was he who shot the Keeper +by the river side, and would have stolen the Snake if I had not broken +his head. You call me a traitor, and you let that thing live, though he +has killed your priest and betrayed your plans. Kill me if you like, +but by God let him die first.” + +I do not know how the others took the revelation, for my eyes were only +for the Portugoose. He made a step towards me, his hands twitching by +his sides. + +“You lie,” he screamed in that queer broken voice which much fever +gives. “It was this English hound that killed the Keeper, and felled me +when I tried to save him. The man who insults my honour is dead.” And +he plucked from his belt a pistol. + +A good shot does not miss at two yards. I was never nearer my end than +in that fraction of time while the weapon came up to the aim. It was +scarcely a second, but it was enough for Colin. The dog had kept my +side, and had stood docilely by me while Laputa spoke. The truth is, he +must have been as tired as I was. As the Kaffirs approached to lay +hands on me he had growled menacingly, but when I spoke again he had +stopped. Henriques’ voice had convinced him of a more urgent danger, +and so soon as the trigger hand of the Portugoose rose, the dog sprang. +The bullet went wide, and the next moment dog and man were struggling +on the ground. + +A dozen hands held me from going to Colin’s aid, but oddly enough no +one stepped forward to help Henriques. The ruffian kept his head, and +though the dog’s teeth were in his shoulder, he managed to get his +right hand free. I saw what would happen, and yelled madly in my +apprehension. The yellow wrist curved, and the pistol barrel was +pressed below the dog’s shoulder. Thrice he fired, the grip relaxed, +and Colin rolled over limply, fragments of shirt still hanging from his +jaw. The Portugoose rose slowly with his hand to his head, and a thin +stream of blood dripping from his shoulder. As I saw the faithful eyes +glazing in death, and knew that I had lost the best of all comrades, I +went clean berserk mad. The cluster of men round me, who had been +staring open-eyed at the fight, were swept aside like reeds. I went +straight for the Portugoose, determined that, pistol or no pistol, I +would serve him as he had served my dog. + +For my years I was a well-set-up lad, long in the arms and deep in the +chest. But I had not yet come to my full strength, and in any case I +could not hope to fight the whole of Laputa’s army. I was flung back +and forwards like a shuttlecock. They played some kind of game with me, +and I could hear the idiotic Kaffir laughter. It was blind man’s buff, +so far as I was concerned, for I was blind with fury. I struck out +wildly left and right, beating the air often, but sometimes getting in +a solid blow on hard black flesh. I was soundly beaten myself, pricked +with spears, and made to caper for savage sport. Suddenly I saw Laputa +before me, and hurled myself madly at his chest. Some one gave me a +clout on the head, and my senses fled. + +When I came to myself, I was lying on a heap of mealie-stalks in a dark +room. I had a desperate headache, and a horrid nausea, which made me +fall back as soon as I tried to raise myself. A voice came out of the +darkness as I stirred—a voice speaking English. + +“Are you awake, Mr Storekeeper?” + +The voice was Laputa’s, but I could not see him. The room was pitch +dark, except for a long ray of sunlight on the floor. + +“I’m awake,” I said. “What do you want with me?” + +Some one stepped out of the gloom and sat down near me. A naked black +foot broke the belt of light on the floor. + +“For God’s sake get me a drink,” I murmured. The figure rose and +fetched a pannikin of water from a pail. I could hear the cool trickle +of the drops on the metal. A hand put the dish to my mouth, and I drank +water with a strong dash of spirits. This brought back my nausea, and I +collapsed on the mealie-stalks till the fit passed. Again the voice +spoke, this time from close at hand. + +“You are paying the penalty of being a fool, Mr Storekeeper. You are +young to die, but folly is common in youth. In an hour you will regret +that you did not listen to my advice at Umvelos’.” + +I clawed at my wits and strove to realize what he was saying. He spoke +of death within an hour. If it only came sharp and sudden, I did not +mind greatly. The plan I had made had slipped utterly out of my mind. +My body was so wretched, that I asked only for rest. I was very +lighthearted and foolish at that moment. + +“Kill me if you like,” I whispered. “Some day you will pay dearly for +it all. But for God’s sake go away and leave me alone.” + +Laputa laughed. It was a horrid sound in the darkness. + +“You are brave, Mr Storekeeper, but I have seen a brave man’s courage +ebb very fast when he saw the death which I have arranged for you. +Would you like to hear something of it by way of preparation?” + +In a low gentle voice he began to tell me mysteries of awful cruelty. +At first I scarcely heard him, but as he went on my brain seemed to +wake from its lethargy. I listened with freezing blood. Not in my +wildest nightmares had I imagined such a fate. Then in despite of +myself a cry broke from me. + +“It interests you?” Laputa asked. “I could tell you more, but something +must be left to the fancy. Yours should be an active one,” and his hand +gripped my shaking wrist and felt my pulse. + +“Henriques will see that the truth does not fall short of my forecast,” +he went on. “For I have appointed Henriques your executioner.” + +The name brought my senses back to me. + +“Kill me,” I said, “but for God’s sake kill Henriques too. If you did +justice you would let me go and roast the Portugoose alive. But for me +the Snake would be over the Lebombo by this time in Henriques’ pocket.” + +“But it is not, my friend. It was stolen by a storekeeper, who will +shortly be wishing he had died in his mother’s womb.” + +My plan was slowly coming back to me. + +“If you value Prester John’s collar, you will save my life. What will +your rising be without the Snake? Would they follow you a yard if they +suspected you had lost it?” + +“So you would threaten me,” Laputa said very gently. Then in a burst of +wrath he shouted, “They will follow me to hell for my own sake. +Imbecile, do you think my power is built on a trinket? When you are in +your grave, I will be ruling a hundred millions from the proudest +throne on earth.” + +He sprang to his feet, and pulled back a shutter of the window, letting +a flood of light into the hut. In that light I saw that he had in his +hands the ivory box which had contained the collar. + +“I will carry the casket through the wars,” he cried, “and if I choose +never to open it, who will gainsay me? You besotted fool, to think that +any theft of yours could hinder my destiny!” He was the blustering +savage again, and I preferred him in the part. All that he said might +be true, but I thought I could detect in his voice a keen regret, and +in his air a touch of disquiet. The man was a fanatic, and like all +fanatics had his superstitions. + +“Yes,” I said, “but when you mount the throne you speak of, it would be +a pity not to have the rubies on your neck after all your talk in the +cave.” + +I thought he would have throttled me. He glowered down at me with +murder in his eyes. Then he dashed the casket on the floor with such +violence that it broke into fragments. + +“Give me back the _Ndhlondhlo_,” he cried, like a petted child. “Give +me back the collar of John.” + +This was the moment I had been waiting for. + +“Now see here, Mr Laputa,” I said. “I am going to talk business. Before +you started this rising, you were a civilized man with a good +education. Well, just remember that education for a minute, and look at +the matter in a sensible light. I’m not like the Portugoose. I don’t +want to steal your rubies. I swear to God that what I have told you is +true. Henriques killed the priest, and would have bagged the jewels if +I had not laid him out. I ran away because I was going to be killed +to-day, and I took the collar to keep it out of Henriques’ hands. I +tell you I would never have shot the old man myself. Very well, what +happened? Your men overtook me, and I had no choice but to surrender. +Before they reached me, I hid the collar in a place I know of. Now, I +am going to make you a fair and square business proposition. You may be +able to get on without the Snake, but I can see you want it back. I am +in a tight place and want nothing so much as my life. I offer to trade +with you. Give me my life, and I will take you to the place and put the +jewels in your hand. Otherwise you may kill me, but you will never see +the collar of John again.” + +I still think that was a pretty bold speech for a man to make in a +predicament like mine. But it had its effect. Laputa ceased to be the +barbarian king, and talked like a civilized man. + +“That is, as you call it, a business proposition. But supposing I +refuse it? Supposing I take measures here—in this kraal—to make you +speak, and then send for the jewels.” + +“There are several objections,” I said, quite cheerfully, for I felt +that I was gaining ground. “One is that I could not explain to any +mortal soul how to find the collar. I know where it is, but I could not +impart the knowledge. Another is that the country between here and +Machudi’s is not very healthy for your people. Arcoll’s men are all +over it, and you cannot have a collection of search parties rummaging +about in the glen for long. Last and most important, if you send any +one for the jewels, you confess their loss. No, Mr Laputa, if you want +them back, you must go yourself and take me with you.” + +He stood silent for a little, with his brows knit in thought. Then he +opened the door and went out. I guessed that he had gone to discover +from his scouts the state of the country between Inanda’s Kraal and +Machudi’s glen. Hope had come back to me, and I sat among the +mealie-stalks trying to plan the future. If he made a bargain I +believed he would keep it. Once set free at the head of Machudi’s, I +should be within an hour or two of Arcoll’s posts. So far, I had done +nothing for the cause. My message had been made useless by Henriques’ +treachery, and I had stolen the Snake only to restore it. But if I got +off with my life, there would be work for me to do in the Armageddon +which I saw approaching. Should I escape, I wondered. What would hinder +Laputa from setting his men to follow me, and seize me before I could +get into safety? My only chance was that Arcoll might have been busy +this day, and the countryside too full of his men to let Laputa’s +Kaffirs through. But if this was so, Laputa and I should be stopped, +and then Laputa would certainly kill me. I wished—and yet I did not +wish—that Arcoll should hold all approaches. As I reflected, my first +exhilaration died away. The scales were still heavily weighted against +me. + +Laputa returned, closing the door behind him. + +“I will bargain with you on my own terms. You shall have your life, and +in return you will take me to the place where you hid the collar, and +put it into my hands. I will ride there, and you will run beside me, +tied to my saddle. If we are in danger from the white men, I will shoot +you dead. Do you accept?” + +“Yes,” I said, scrambling to my feet, and ruefully testing my shaky +legs. “But if you want me to get to Machudi’s you must go slowly, for I +am nearly foundered.” + +Then he brought out a Bible, and made me swear on it that I would do as +I promised. + +“Swear to me in turn,” I said, “that you will give me my life if I +restore the jewels.” + +He swore, kissing the book like a witness in a police-court. I had +forgotten that the man called himself a Christian. + +“One thing more I ask,” I said. “I want my dog decently buried.” “That +has been already done,” was the reply. “He was a brave animal, and my +people honour bravery.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII +A DEAL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES + + +My eyes were bandaged tight, and a thong was run round my right wrist +and tied to Laputa’s saddle-bow. I felt the glare of the afternoon sun +on my head, and my shins were continually barked by stones and trees; +but these were my only tidings of the outer world. By the sound of his +paces Laputa was riding the _schimmel_, and if any one thinks it easy +to go blindfold by a horse’s side I hope he will soon have the +experience. In the darkness I could not tell the speed of the beast. +When I ran I overshot it and was tugged back; when I walked my wrist +was dislocated with the tugs forward. + +For an hour or more I suffered this breakneck treatment. We were +descending. Often I could hear the noise of falling streams, and once +we splashed through a mountain ford. Laputa was taking no risks, for he +clearly had in mind the possibility of some accident which would set me +free, and he had no desire to have me guiding Arcoll to his camp. + +But as I stumbled and sprawled down these rocky tracks I was not +thinking of Laputa’s plans. My whole soul was filled with regret for +Colin, and rage against his murderer. After my first mad rush I had not +thought about my dog. He was dead, but so would I be in an hour or two, +and there was no cause to lament him. But at the first revival of hope +my grief had returned. As they bandaged my eyes I was wishing that they +would let me see his grave. As I followed beside Laputa I told myself +that if ever I got free, when the war was over I would go to Inanda’s +Kraal, find the grave, and put a tombstone over it in memory of the dog +that saved my life. I would also write that the man who shot him was +killed on such and such a day at such and such a place by Colin’s +master. I wondered why Laputa had not the wits to see the Portugoose’s +treachery and to let me fight him. I did not care what were the +weapons—knives or guns, or naked fists—I would certainly kill him, and +afterwards the Kaffirs could do as they pleased with me. Hot tears of +rage and weakness wet the bandage on my eyes, and the sobs which came +from me were not only those of weariness. + +At last we halted. Laputa got down and took off the bandage, and I +found myself in one of the hill-meadows which lie among the foothills +of the Wolkberg. The glare blinded me, and for a little I could only +see the marigolds growing at my feet. Then I had a glimpse of the deep +gorge of the Great Letaba below me, and far to the east the flats +running out to the hazy blue line of the Lebombo hills. Laputa let me +sit on the ground for a minute or two to get my breath and rest my +feet. “That was a rough road,” he said. “You can take it easier now, +for I have no wish to carry you.” He patted the _schimmel_, and the +beautiful creature turned his mild eyes on the pair of us. I wondered +if he recognized his rider of two nights ago. + +I had seen Laputa as the Christian minister, as the priest and king in +the cave, as the leader of an army at Dupree’s Drift, and at the kraal +we had left as the savage with all self-control flung to the winds. I +was to see this amazing man in a further part. For he now became a +friendly and rational companion. He kept his horse at an easy walk, and +talked to me as if we were two friends out for a trip together. Perhaps +he had talked thus to Arcoll, the half-caste who drove his Cape-cart. + +The wooded bluff above Machudi’s glen showed far in front. He told me +the story of the Machudi war, which I knew already, but he told it as a +saga. There had been a stratagem by which one of the Boer leaders—a +Grobelaar, I think—got some of his men into the enemy’s camp by hiding +them in a captured forage wagon. + +“Like the Trojan horse,” I said involuntarily. + +“Yes,” said my companion, “the same old device,” and to my amazement he +quoted some lines of Virgil. + +“Do you understand Latin?” he asked. + +I told him that I had some slight knowledge of the tongue, acquired at +the university of Edinburgh. Laputa nodded. He mentioned the name of a +professor there, and commented on his scholarship. + +“O man!” I cried, “what in God’s name are you doing in this business? +You that are educated and have seen the world, what makes you try to +put the clock back? You want to wipe out the civilization of a thousand +years, and turn us all into savages. It’s the more shame to you when +you know better.” + +“You misunderstand me,” he said quietly. “It is because I have sucked +civilization dry that I know the bitterness of the fruit. I want a +simpler and better world, and I want that world for my own people. I am +a Christian, and will you tell me that your civilization pays much +attention to Christ? You call yourself a patriot? Will you not give me +leave to be a patriot in turn?” + +“If you are a Christian, what sort of Christianity is it to deluge the +land with blood?” + +“The best,” he said. “The house must be swept and garnished before the +man of the house can dwell in it. You have read history. Such a purging +has descended on the Church at many times, and the world has awakened +to a new hope. It is the same in all religions. The temples grow tawdry +and foul and must be cleansed, and, let me remind you, the cleanser has +always come out of the desert.” + +I had no answer, being too weak and forlorn to think. But I fastened on +his patriotic plea. + +“Where are the patriots in your following? They are all red Kaffirs +crying for blood and plunder. Supposing you were Oliver Cromwell you +could make nothing out of such a crew.” + +“They are my people,” he said simply. + +By this time we had forded the Great Letaba, and were making our way +through the clumps of forest to the crown of the plateau. I noticed +that Laputa kept well in cover, preferring the tangle of wooded +undergrowth to the open spaces of the water-meadows. As he talked, his +wary eyes were keeping a sharp look-out over the landscape. I thrilled +with the thought that my own folk were near at hand. + +Once Laputa checked me with his hand as I was going to speak, and in +silence we crossed the kloof of a little stream. After that we struck a +long strip of forest and he slackened his watch. + +“If you fight for a great cause,” I said, “why do you let a miscreant +like Henriques have a hand in it? You must know that the man’s only +interest in you is the chance of loot. I am for you against Henriques, +and I tell you plain that if you don’t break the snake’s back it will +sting you.” + +Laputa looked at me with an odd, meditative look. + +“You misunderstand again, Mr Storekeeper. The Portuguese is what you +call a ‘mean white.’ His only safety is among us. I am campaigner +enough to know that an enemy, who has a burning grievance against my +other enemies, is a good ally. You are too hard on Henriques. You and +your friends have treated him as a Kaffir, and a Kaffir he is in +everything but Kaffir virtues. What makes you so anxious that Henriques +should not betray me?” + +“I’m not a mean white,” I said, “and I will speak the truth. I hope, in +God’s name, to see you smashed; but I want it done by honest men, and +not by a yellow devil who has murdered my dog and my friends. Sooner or +later you will find him out; and if he escapes you, and there’s any +justice in heaven, he won’t escape me.” + +“Brave words,” said Laputa, with a laugh, and then in one second he +became rigid in the saddle. We had crossed a patch of meadow and +entered a wood, beyond which ran the highway. I fancy he was out in his +reckoning, and did not think the road so near. At any rate, after a +moment he caught the sound of horses, and I caught it too. The wood was +thin, and there was no room for retreat, while to recross the meadow +would bring us clean into the open. He jumped from his horse, untied +with amazing quickness the rope halter from its neck, and started to +gag me by winding the thing round my jaw. + +I had no time to protest that I would keep faith, and my right hand was +tethered to his pommel. In the grip of these great arms I was helpless, +and in a trice was standing dumb as a lamp-post; while Laputa, his left +arm round both of mine, and his right hand over the _schimmel_’s eyes, +strained his ears like a sable antelope who has scented danger. + +There was never a more brutal gagging. The rope crushed my nose and +drove my lips down on my teeth, besides gripping my throat so that I +could scarcely breathe. The pain was so great that I became sick, and +would have fallen but for Laputa. Happily I managed to get my teeth +apart, so that one coil slipped between, and eased the pain of the +jaws. But the rest was bad enough to make me bite frantically on the +tow, and I think in a little my sharp front teeth would have severed +it. All this discomfort prevented me seeing what happened. The wood, as +I have said, was thin, and through the screen of leaves I had a +confused impression of men and horses passing interminably. There can +only have been a score at the most; but the moments drag if a cord is +gripping your throat. When Laputa at length untied me, I had another +fit of nausea, and leaned helplessly against a tree. + +Laputa listened till the sound of the horses had died away; then +silently we stole to the edge of the road, across, and into the thicker +evergreen bush on the far side. At a pace which forced me to run hard, +we climbed a steepish slope, till ahead of us we saw the bald green +crown of the meadowlands. I noticed that his face had grown dark and +sullen again. He was in an enemy’s country, and had the air of the +hunted instead of the hunter. When I stopped he glowered at me, and +once, when I was all but overcome with fatigue, he lifted his hand in a +threat. Had he carried a sjambok, it would have fallen on my back. + +If he was nervous, so was I. The fact that I was out of the Kaffir +country and in the land of my own folk was a kind of qualified liberty. +At any moment, I felt, Providence might intervene to set me free. It +was in the bond that Laputa should shoot me if we were attacked; but a +pistol might miss. As far as my shaken wits would let me, I began to +forecast the future. Once he got the jewels my side of the bargain was +complete. He had promised me my life, but there had been nothing said +about my liberty; and I felt assured that Laputa would never allow one +who had seen so much to get off to Arcoll with his tidings. But back to +that unhallowed kraal I was resolved I would not go. He was armed, and +I was helpless; he was strong, and I was dizzy with weakness; he was +mounted, and I was on foot: it seemed a poor hope that I should get +away. There was little chance from a wandering patrol, for I knew if we +were followed I should have a bullet in my head, while Laputa got off +on the _schimmel_. I must wait and bide events. At the worst, a clean +shot on the hillside in a race for life was better than the unknown +mysteries of the kraal. I prayed earnestly to God to show me His mercy, +for if ever man was sore bested by the heathen it was I. + +To my surprise, Laputa chose to show himself on the green +hill-shoulder. He looked towards the Wolkberg and raised his hands. It +must have been some signal. I cast my eyes back on the road we had +come, and I thought I saw some figures a mile back, on the edge of the +Letaba gorge. He was making sure of my return. + +By this time it was about four in the afternoon, and as heavenly +weather as the heart of man could wish. The meadows were full of +aromatic herbs, which, as we crushed them, sent up a delicate odour. +The little pools and shallows of the burns were as clear as a Lothian +trout-stream. We were now going at a good pace, and I found that my +earlier weariness was growing less. I was being keyed up for some great +crisis, for in my case the spirit acts direct on the body, and fatigue +grows and ebbs with hope. I knew that my strength was not far from +breaking-point; but I knew also that so long as a chance was left me I +should have enough for a stroke. + +Before I realized where we were we had rounded the hill, and were +looking down on the green cup of the upper Machudi’s glen. Far down, I +remember, where the trees began, there was a cloud of smoke. Some +Kaffir—or maybe Arcoll—had fired the forest. The smoke was drifting +away under a light west wind over the far plains, so that they were +seen through a haze of opal. + +Laputa bade me take the lead. I saw quite clear the red kloof on the +far side, where the collar was hid. To get there we might have ridden +straight into the cup, but a providential instinct made me circle round +the top till we were on the lip of the ravine. This was the road some +of Machudi’s men had taken, and unthinkingly I followed them. Twenty +minutes’ riding brought us to the place, and all the while I had no +kind of plan of escape. I was in the hands of my Maker, watching, like +the Jews of old, for a sign. + +Laputa dismounted and looked down into the gorge. + +“There is no road there,” I said. “We must go down to the foot and come +up the stream-side. It would be better to leave your horse here.” He +started down the cliff, which from above looks a sheer precipice. Then +he seemed to agree with me, took the rope from the _schimmel_’s neck, +and knee-haltered his beast. And at that moment I had an inspiration. + +With my wrist-rope in his hand, he preceded me down the hill till we +got to the red screes at the foot of the kloof. Then, under my +guidance, we turned up into the darkness of the gorge. As we entered I +looked back, and saw figures coming over the edge of the green +cup—Laputa’s men, I guessed. What I had to do must be done quickly. + +We climbed up the burn, over the succession of little cataracts, till +we came to the flat space of shingle and the long pool where I had been +taken that morning. The ashes of the fire which Machudi’s men had made +were plain on the rock. After that I had to climb a waterfall to get to +the rocky pool where I had bestowed the rubies. + +“You must take off this thong,” I said. “I must climb to get the +collar. Cover me with a pistol if you like. I won’t be out of sight.” + +Laputa undid the thong and set me free. From his belt he took a pistol, +cocked it, and held it over his left hand. I had seen this way of +shooting adopted by indifferent shots, and it gave me a wild hope that +he might not be much of a marksman. + +It did not take me long to find the pool, close against the blackened +stump of a tree-fern. I thrust in my hand and gathered up the jewels +from the cool sand. They came out glowing like living fires, and for a +moment I thrilled with a sense of reverence. Surely these were no +common stones which held in them the very heart of hell. Clutching them +tightly, I climbed down to Laputa. + +At the sight of the great Snake he gave a cry of rapture. Tearing it +from me, he held it at arm’s length, his face lit with a passionate +joy. He kissed it, he raised it to the sky; nay, he was on his knees +before it. Once more he was the savage transported in the presence of +his fetich. He turned to me with burning eyes. + +“Down on your knees,” he cried, “and reverence the _Ndhlondhlo_. Down, +you impious dog, and seek pardon for your sacrilege.” + +“I won’t,” I said. “I won’t bow to any heathen idol.” + +He pointed his pistol at me. + +“In a second I shoot where your head is now. Down, you fool, or +perish.” + +“You promised me my life,” I said stubbornly, though Heaven knows why I +chose to act thus. + +He dropped the pistol and flung himself on me. I was helpless as a baby +in his hands. He forced me to the ground and rolled my face in the +sand; then he pulled me to my feet and tossed me backward, till I +almost staggered into the pool. I saved myself, and staggered instead +into the shallow at the foot of it, close under the ledge of the +precipice. + +That morning, when Machudi’s men were cooking breakfast, I had figured +out a route up the cliff. This route was now my hope of escape. Laputa +had dropped his pistol, and the collar had plunged him in an ecstasy of +worship. Now, if ever, was my time. I must get on the shelf which ran +sideways up the cliff, and then scramble for dear life. + +I pretended to be dazed and terrified. + +“You promised me my life,” I whimpered. + +“Your life,” he cried. “Yes, you shall have your life; and before long +you will pray for death.” + +“But I saved the Collar,” I pleaded. “Henriques would have stolen it. I +brought it safe here, and now you have got it.” + +Meantime I was pulling myself up on the shelf, and loosening with one +hand a boulder which overhung the pool. + +“You have been repaid,” he said savagely. “You will not die.” + +“But my life is no use without liberty,” I said, working at the boulder +till it lay loose in its niche. + +He did not answer, being intent on examining the Collar to see if it +had suffered any harm. + +“I hope it isn’t scratched,” I said. “Henriques trod on it when I hit +him.” + +Laputa peered at the gems like a mother at a child who has had a fall. +I saw my chance and took it. With a great heave I pulled the boulder +down into the pool. It made a prodigious splash, sending a shower of +spray over Laputa and the Collar. In cover of it I raced up the shelf, +straining for the shelter of the juniper tree. + +A shot rang out and struck the rock above me. A second later I had +reached the tree and was scrambling up the crack beyond it. + +Laputa did not fire again. He may have distrusted his shooting, or seen +a better way of it. He dashed through the stream and ran up the shelf +like a klipspringer after me. I felt rather than saw what was +happening, and with my heart in my mouth I gathered my dregs of energy +for the last struggle. + +You know the nightmare when you are pursued by some awful terror, and, +though sick with fear, your legs have a strange numbness, and you +cannot drag them in obedience to the will. Such was my feeling in the +crack above the juniper tree. In truth, I had passed the bounds of my +endurance. Last night I had walked fifty miles, and all day I had borne +the torments of a dreadful suspense. I had been bound and gagged and +beaten till the force was out of my limbs. Also, and above all, I had +had little food, and I was dizzy with want of sleep. My feet seemed +leaden, my hands had no more grip than putty. I do not know how I +escaped falling into the pool, for my head was singing and my heart +thumping in my throat. I seemed to feel Laputa’s great hand every +second clawing at my heels. + +I had reason for my fears. He had entered the crack long before I had +reached the top, and his progress was twice as fast as mine. When I +emerged on the topmost shelf he was scarcely a yard behind me. But an +overhang checked his bulky figure and gave me a few seconds’ grace. I +needed it all, for these last steps on the shelf were the totterings of +an old man. Only a desperate resolution and an extreme terror made me +drag one foot after the other. Blindly I staggered on to the top of the +ravine, and saw before me the _schimmel_ grazing in the light of the +westering sun. + +I forced myself into a sort of drunken run, and crawled into the +saddle. Behind me, as I turned, I could see Laputa’s shoulders rising +over the edge. I had no knife to cut the knee-halter, and the horse +could not stir. + +Then the miracle happened. When the rope had gagged me, my teeth must +have nearly severed it at one place, and this Laputa had not noticed +when he used it as a knee-halter. The shock of my entering the saddle +made the _schimmel_ fling up his head violently, and the rope snapped. +I could not find the stirrups, but I dug my heels into his sides, and +he leaped forward. + +At the same moment Laputa began to shoot. It was a foolish move, for he +might have caught me by running, since I had neither spurs nor whip, +and the horse was hampered by the loose end of rope at his knee. In any +case, being an indifferent shot, he should have aimed at the +_schimmel_, not at me; but I suppose he wished to save his charger. One +bullet sang past my head; a second did my business for me. It passed +over my shoulder, as I lay low in the saddle, and grazed the beast’s +right ear. The pain maddened him, and, rope-end and all, he plunged +into a wild gallop. Other shots came, but they fell far short. I saw +dimly a native or two—the men who had followed us—rush to intercept me, +and I think a spear was flung. But in a flash we were past them, and +their cries faded behind me. I found the bridle, reached for the +stirrups, and galloped straight for the sunset and for freedom. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII +HOW A MAN MAY SOMETIMES PUT HIS TRUST IN A HORSE + + +I had long passed the limit of my strength. Only constant fear and wild +alternations of hope had kept me going so long, and now that I was safe +I became light-headed in earnest. The wonder is that I did not fall +off. Happily the horse was good and the ground easy, for I was +powerless to do any guiding. I simply sat on his back in a silly glow +of comfort, keeping a line for the dying sun, which I saw in a nick of +the Iron Crown Mountain. A sort of childish happiness possessed me. +After three days of imminent peril, to be free was to be in fairyland. +To be swishing through the long bracken or plunging among the +breast-high flowers of the meadowlands in a world of essential lights +and fragrances, seemed scarcely part of mortal experience. Remember +that I was little more than a lad, and that I had faced death so often +of late that my mind was all adrift. To be able to hope once more, nay, +to be allowed to cease both from hope and fear, was like a deep and +happy opiate to my senses. Spent and frail as I was, my soul swam in +blessed waters of ease. + +The mood did not last long. I came back to earth with a shock, as the +_schimmel_ stumbled at the crossing of a stream. I saw that the +darkness was fast falling, and with the sight panic returned to me. +Behind me I seemed to hear the sound of pursuit. The noise was in my +ears, but when I turned it ceased, and I saw only the dusky shoulders +of hills. + +I tried to remember what Arcoll had told me about his headquarters, but +my memory was wiped clean. I thought they were on or near the highway, +but I could not remember where the highway was. Besides, he was close +to the enemy, and I wanted to get back into the towns, far away from +the battle-line. If I rode west I must come in time to villages, where +I could hide myself. These were unworthy thoughts, but my excuse must +be my tattered nerves. When a man comes out of great danger, he is apt +to be a little deaf to the call of duty. + +Suddenly I became ashamed. God had preserved me from deadly perils, but +not that I might cower in some shelter. I had a mission as clear as +Laputa’s. For the first time I became conscious to what a little thing +I owed my salvation. That matter of the broken halter was like the +finger of Divine Providence. I had been saved for a purpose, and unless +I fulfilled that purpose I should again be lost. I was always a +fatalist, and in that hour of strained body and soul I became something +of a mystic. My panic ceased, my lethargy departed, and a more manly +resolution took their place. I gripped the _schimmel_ by the head and +turned him due left. Now I remembered where the highroad ran, and I +remembered something else. + +For it was borne in on me that Laputa had fallen into my hands. Without +any subtle purpose I had played a master game. He was cut off from his +people, without a horse, on the wrong side of the highroad which +Arcoll’s men patrolled. Without him the rising would crumble. There +might be war, even desperate war, but we should fight against a +leaderless foe. If he could only be shepherded to the north, his game +was over, and at our leisure we could mop up the scattered +concentrations. + +I was now as eager to get back into danger as I had been to get into +safety. Arcoll must be found and warned, and that at once, or Laputa +would slip over to Inanda’s Kraal under cover of dark. It was a matter +of minutes, and on these minutes depended the lives of thousands. It +was also a matter of ebbing strength, for with my return to common +sense I saw very clearly how near my capital was spent. If I could +reach the highroad, find Arcoll or Arcoll’s men, and give them my news, +I would do my countrymen a service such as no man in Africa could +render. But I felt my head swimming, I was swaying crazily in the +saddle, and my hands had scarcely the force of a child’s. I could only +lie limply on the horse’s back, clutching at his mane with trembling +fingers. I remember that my head was full of a text from the Psalms +about not putting one’s trust in horses. I prayed that this one horse +might be an exception, for he carried more than Caesar and his +fortunes. + +My mind is a blank about those last minutes. In less than an hour after +my escape I struck the highway, but it was an hour which in the +retrospect unrolls itself into unquiet years. I was dimly conscious of +scrambling through a ditch and coming to a ghostly white road. The +_schimmel_ swung to the right, and the next I knew some one had taken +my bridle and was speaking to me. + +At first I thought it was Laputa and screamed. Then I must have +tottered in the saddle, for I felt an arm slip round my middle. The +rider uncorked a bottle with his teeth and forced some brandy down my +throat. I choked and coughed, and then looked up to see a white +policeman staring at me. I knew the police by the green +shoulder-straps. + +“Arcoll,” I managed to croak. “For God’s sake take me to Arcoll.” + +The man whistled shrilly on his fingers, and a second rider came +cantering down the road. As he came up I recognized his face, but could +not put a name to it. “Losh, it’s the lad Crawfurd,” I heard a voice +say. “Crawfurd, man, d’ye no mind me at Lourenco Marques? Aitken?” + +The Scotch tongue worked a spell with me. It cleared my wits and opened +the gates of my past life. At last I knew I was among my own folk. + +“I must see Arcoll. I have news for him—tremendous news. O man, take me +to Arcoll and ask me no questions. Where is he? Where is he?” + +“As it happens, he’s about two hundred yards off,” Aitken said. “That +light ye see at the top of the brae is his camp.” + +They helped me up the road, a man on each side of me, for I could never +have kept in the saddle without their support. My message to Arcoll +kept humming in my head as I tried to put it into words, for I had a +horrid fear that my wits would fail me and I should be dumb when the +time came. Also I was in a fever of haste. Every minute I wasted +increased Laputa’s chance of getting back to the kraal. He had men with +him every bit as skilful as Arcoll’s trackers. Unless Arcoll had a big +force and the best horses there was no hope. Often in looking back at +this hour I have marvelled at the strangeness of my behaviour. Here was +I just set free from the certainty of a hideous death, and yet I had +lost all joy in my security. I was more fevered at the thought of +Laputa’s escape than I had been at the prospect of David Crawfurd’s +end. + +The next thing I knew I was being lifted off the _schimmel_ by what +seemed to me a thousand hands. Then came a glow of light, a great moon, +in the centre of which I stood blinking. I was forced to sit down on a +bed, while I was given a cup of hot tea, far more reviving than any +spirits. I became conscious that some one was holding my hands, and +speaking very slowly and gently. + +“Davie,” the voice said, “you’re back among friends, my lad. Tell me, +where have you been?” + +“I want Arcoll,” I moaned. “Where is Ratitswan?” There were tears of +weakness running down my cheeks. + +“Arcoll is here,” said the voice; “he is holding your hands, Davie. +Quiet, lad, quiet. Your troubles are all over now.” + +I made a great effort, found the eyes to which the voice belonged, and +spoke to them. + +“Listen. I stole the collar of Prester John at Dupree’s Drift. I was +caught in the Berg and taken to the kraal—I forget its name—but I had +hid the rubies.” + +“Yes,” the voice said, “you hid the rubies,—and then?” + +“Inkulu wanted them back, so I made a deal with him. I took him to +Machudi’s and gave him the collar, and then he fired at me and I +climbed and climbed ... I climbed on a horse,” I concluded childishly. + +I heard the voice say “Yes?” again inquiringly, but my mind ran off at +a tangent. + +“Beyers took guns up into the Wolkberg,” I cried shrilly. “Why the +devil don’t you do the same? You have the whole Kaffir army in a trap.” + +I saw a smiling face before me. + +“Good lad. Colles told me you weren’t wanting in intelligence. What if +we have done that very thing, Davie?” + +But I was not listening. I was trying to remember the thing I most +wanted to say, and that was not about Beyers and his guns. Those were +nightmare minutes. A speaker who has lost the thread of his discourse, +a soldier who with a bayonet at his throat has forgotten the password—I +felt like them, and worse. And to crown all I felt my faintness coming +back, and my head dropping with heaviness. I was in a torment of +impotence. + +Arcoll, still holding my hands, brought his face close to mine, so that +his clear eyes mastered and constrained me. + +“Look at me, Davie,” I heard him say. “You have something to tell me, +and it is very important. It is about Laputa, isn’t it? Think, man. You +took him to Machudi’s and gave him the collar. He has gone back with it +to Inanda’s Kraal. Very well, my guns will hold him there.” + +I shook my head. “You can’t. You may split the army, but you can’t hold +Laputa. He will be over the Olifants before you fire a shot.” “We will +hunt him down before he crosses. And if not, we will catch him at the +railway.” + +“For God’s sake, hurry then,” I cried. “In an hour he will be over it +and back in the kraal.” + +“But the river is a long way.” + +“River?” I repeated hazily. “What river? The Letaba is not the place. +It is the road I mean.” + +Arcoll’s hands closed firmly on my wrists. + +“You left Laputa at Machudi’s and rode here without stopping. That +would take you an hour. Had Laputa a horse?” + +“Yes; but I took it,” I stammered. “You can see it behind me.” Arcoll +dropped my hands and stood up straight. + +“By God, we’ve got him!” he said, and he spoke to his companions. A man +turned and ran out of the tent. + +Then I remembered what I wanted to say. I struggled from the bed and +put my hands on his shoulders. + +“Laputa is our side of the highroad. Cut him off from his men, and +drive him north—north—away up to the Rooirand. Never mind the Wolkberg +and the guns, for they can wait. I tell you Laputa is the Rising, and +he has the collar. Without him you can mop up the Kaffirs at your +leisure. Line the high-road with every man you have, for he must cross +it or perish. Oh, hurry, man, hurry; never mind me. We’re saved if we +can chivy Laputa till morning. Quick, or I’ll have to go myself.” + +The tent emptied, and I lay back on the bed with a dim feeling that my +duty was done and I could rest. Henceforth the affair was in stronger +hands than mine. I was so weak that I could not lift my legs up to the +bed, but sprawled half on and half off. + +Utter exhaustion defeats sleep. I was in a fever, and my eyes would not +close. I lay and drowsed while it seemed to me that the outside world +was full of men and horses. I heard voices and the sound of hoofs and +the jingle of bridles, but above all I heard the solid tramp of an +army. The whole earth seemed to be full of war. Before my mind was +spread the ribbon of the great highway. I saw it run white through the +meadows of the plateau, then in a dark corkscrew down the glen of the +Letaba, then white again through the vast moonlit bush of the plains, +till the shanties of Wesselsburg rose at the end of it. It seemed to me +to be less a road than a rampart, built of shining marble, the Great +Wall of Africa. I saw Laputa come out of the shadows and try to climb +it, and always there was the sound of a rifle-breech clicking, a +summons, and a flight. I began to take a keen interest in the game. +Down in the bush were the dark figures of the hunted, and on the white +wall were my own people—horse, foot, and artillery, the squadrons of +our defence. What a general Arcoll was, and how great a matter had +David Crawfurd kindled! + +A man came in—I suppose a doctor. He took off my leggings and boots, +cutting them from my bleeding feet, but I knew no pain. He felt my +pulse and listened to my heart. Then he washed my face and gave me a +bowl of hot milk. There must have been a drug in the milk, for I had +scarcely drunk it before a tide of sleep seemed to flow over my brain. +The white rampart faded from my eyes and I slept. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX +ARCOLL’S SHEPHERDING + + +While I lay in a drugged slumber great things were happening. What I +have to tell is no experience of my own, but the story as I pieced it +together afterwards from talks with Arcoll and Aitken. The history of +the Rising has been compiled. As I write I see before me on the shelves +two neat blue volumes in which Mr Alexander Upton, sometime +correspondent of the _Times_, has told for the edification of posterity +the tale of the war between the Plains and the Plateau. To him the +Kaffir hero is Umbooni, a half-witted ruffian, whom we afterwards +caught and hanged. He mentions Laputa only in a footnote as a renegade +Christian who had something to do with fomenting discontent. He +considers that the word “Inkulu,” which he often heard, was a Zulu name +for God. Mr Upton is a picturesque historian, but he knew nothing of +the most romantic incident of all. This is the tale of the midnight +shepherding of the “heir of John” by Arcoll and his irregulars. + +At Bruderstroom, where I was lying unconscious, there were two hundred +men of the police; sixty-three Basuto scouts under a man called +Stephen, who was half native in blood and wholly native in habits; and +three commandoes of the farmers, each about forty strong. The +commandoes were really companies of the North Transvaal Volunteers, but +the old name had been kept and something of the old loose organization. +There were also two four-gun batteries of volunteer artillery, but +these were out on the western skirts of the Wolkberg following Beyers’s +historic precedent. Several companies of regulars were on their way +from Pietersdorp, but they did not arrive till the next day. When they +came they went to the Wolkberg to join the artillery. Along the Berg at +strategic points were pickets of police with native trackers, and at +Blaauwildebeestefontein there was a strong force with two field guns, +for there was some fear of a second Kaffir army marching by that place +to Inanda’s Kraal. At Wesselsburg out on the plain there was a biggish +police patrol, and a system of small patrols along the road, with a +fair number of Basuto scouts. But the road was picketed, not held; for +Arcoll’s patrols were only a branch of his Intelligence Department. It +was perfectly easy, as I had found myself, to slip across in a gap of +the pickets. + +Laputa would be in a hurry, and therefore he would try to cross at the +nearest point. Hence it was Arcoll’s first business to hold the line +between the defile of the Letaba and the camp at Bruderstroom. A +detachment of the police who were well mounted galloped at racing speed +for the defile, and behind them the rest lined out along the road. The +farmers took a line at right angles to the road, so as to prevent an +escape on the western flank. The Basutos were sent into the woods as a +sort of advanced post to bring tidings of any movement there. Finally a +body of police with native runners at their stirrups rode on to the +drift where the road crosses the Letaba. The place is called Main +Drift, and you will find it on the map. The natives were first of all +to locate Laputa, and prevent him getting out on the south side of the +triangle of hill and wood between Machudi’s, the road, and the Letaba. +If he failed there, he must try to ford the Letaba below the drift, and +cross the road between the drift and Wesselsburg. Now Arcoll had not +men enough to watch the whole line, and therefore if Laputa were once +driven below the drift, he must shift his men farther down the road. +Consequently it was of the first importance to locate Laputa’s +whereabouts, and for this purpose the native trackers were sent +forward. There was just a chance of capturing him, but Arcoll knew too +well his amazing veld-craft and great strength of body to build much +hope on that. + +We were none too soon. The advance men of the police rode into one of +the Kaffirs from Inanda’s Kraal, whom Laputa had sent forward to see if +the way was clear. In two minutes more he would have been across and +out of our power, for we had no chance of overtaking him in the woody +ravines of the Letaba. The Kaffir, when he saw us, dived back into the +grass on the north side of the road, which made it clear that Laputa +was still there. + +After that nothing happened for a little. The police reached their +drift, and all the road west of that point was strongly held. The +flanking commandoes joined hands with one of the police posts farther +north, and moved slowly to the scarp of the Berg. They saw nobody; from +which Arcoll could deduce that his man had gone down the Berg into the +forests. + +Had the Basutos been any good at woodcraft we should have had better +intelligence. But living in a bare mountain country they are apt to +find themselves puzzled in a forest. The best men among the trackers +were some renegades of ’Mpefu, who sent back word by a device known +only to Arcoll that five Kaffirs were in the woods a mile north of Main +Drift. By this time it was after ten o’clock, and the moon was rising. +The five men separated soon after, and the reports became confused. +Then Laputa, as the biggest of the five, was located on the banks of +the Great Letaba about two miles below Main Drift. + +The question was as to his crossing. Arcoll had assumed that he would +swim the river and try to get over the road between Main Drift and +Wesselsburg. But in this assumption he underrated the shrewdness of his +opponent. Laputa knew perfectly well that we had not enough men to +patrol the whole countryside, but that the river enabled us to divide +the land into two sections and concentrate strongly on one or the +other. Accordingly he left the Great Letaba unforded and resolved to +make a long circuit back to the Berg. One of his Kaffirs swam the +river, and when word of this was brought Arcoll began to withdraw his +posts farther down the road. But as the men were changing ’Mpefu’s +fellows got wind of Laputa’s turn to the left, and in great haste +Arcoll countermanded the move and waited in deep perplexity at Main +Drift. + +The salvation of his scheme was the farmers on the scarp of the Berg. +They lit fires and gave Laputa the notion of a great army. Instead of +going up the glen of Machudi or the Letsitela he bore away to the north +for the valley of the Klein Letaba. The pace at which he moved must +have been amazing. He had a great physique, hard as nails from long +travelling, and in his own eyes he had an empire at stake. When I look +at the map and see the journey which with vast fatigue I completed from +Dupree’s Drift to Machudi’s, and then look at the huge spaces of +country over which Laputa’s legs took him on that night, I am lost in +admiration of the man. + +About midnight he must have crossed the Letsitela. Here he made a grave +blunder. If he had tried the Berg by one of the faces he might have got +on to the plateau and been at Inanda’s Kraal by the dawning. But he +over-estimated the size of the commandoes, and held on to the north, +where he thought there would be no defence. About one o’clock Arcoll, +tired of inaction and conscious that he had misread Laputa’s tactics, +resolved on a bold stroke. He sent half his police to the Berg to +reinforce the commandoes, bidding them get into touch with the post at +Blaauwildebeestefontein. + +A little after two o’clock a diversion occurred. Henriques succeeded in +crossing the road three miles east of Main Drift. He had probably left +the kraal early in the night and had tried to cross farther west, but +had been deterred by the patrols. East of Main Drift, where the police +were fewer, he succeeded; but he had not gone far till he was +discovered by the Basuto scouts. The find was reported to Arcoll, who +guessed at once who this traveller was. He dared not send out any of +his white men, but he bade a party of the scouts follow the +Portugoose’s trail. They shadowed him to Dupree’s Drift, where he +crossed the Letaba. There he lay down by the roadside to sleep, while +they kept him company. A hard fellow Henriques was, for he could +slumber peacefully on the very scene of his murder. + +Dawn found Laputa at the head of the Klein Letaba glen, not far from +’Mpefu’s kraal. He got food at a hut, and set off at once up the wooded +hill above it, which is a promontory of the plateau. By this time he +must have been weary, or he would not have blundered as he did right +into a post of the farmers. He was within an ace of capture, and to +save himself was forced back from the scarp. He seems, to judge from +reports, to have gone a little way south in the thicker timber, and +then to have turned north again in the direction of +Blaauwildebeestefontein. After that his movements are obscure. He was +seen on the Klein Labongo, but the sight of the post at +Blaauwildebeestefontein must have convinced him that a _korhaan_ could +not escape that way. The next we heard of him was that he had joined +Henriques. After daybreak Arcoll, having got his reports from the +plateau, and knowing roughly the direction in which Laputa was shaping, +decided to advance his lines. The farmers, reinforced by three more +commandoes from the Pietersdorp district, still held the plateau, but +the police were now on the line of the Great Letaba. It was Arcoll’s +plan to hold that river and the long neck of land between it and the +Labongo. His force was hourly increasing, and his mounted men would be +able to prevent any escape on the flank to the east of Wesselsburg. + +So it happened that while Laputa was being driven east from the Berg, +Henriques was travelling north, and their lines intersected. I should +like to have seen the meeting. It must have told Laputa what had always +been in the Portugoose’s heart. Henriques, I fancy, was making for the +cave in the Rooirand. Laputa, so far as I can guess at his mind, had a +plan for getting over the Portuguese border, fetching a wide circuit, +and joining his men at any of the concentrations between there and +Amsterdam. + +The two were seen at midday going down the road which leads from +Blaauwildebeestefontein to the Lebombo. Then they struck Arcoll’s new +front, which stretched from the Letaba to the Labongo. This drove them +north again, and forced them to swim the latter stream. From there to +the eastern extremity of the Rooirand, which is the Portuguese +frontier, the country is open and rolling, with a thin light scrub in +the hollows. It was bad cover for the fugitives, as they found to their +cost. For Arcoll had purposely turned his police into a flying column. +They no longer held a line; they scoured a country. Only Laputa’s +incomparable veld-craft and great bodily strength prevented the two +from being caught in half an hour. They doubled back, swam the Labongo +again, and got into the thick bush on the north side of the +Blaauwildebeestefontein road. The Basuto scouts were magnificent in the +open, but in the cover they were again at fault. Laputa and Henriques +fairly baffled them, so that the pursuit turned to the west in the +belief that the fugitives had made for Majinje’s kraal. In reality they +had recrossed the Labongo and were making for Umvelos’. + +All this I heard afterwards, but in the meantime I lay in Arcoll’s tent +in deep unconsciousness. While my enemies were being chased like +partridges, I was reaping the fruits of four days’ toil and terror. The +hunters had become the hunted, the wheel had come full circle, and the +woes of David Crawfurd were being abundantly avenged. + +I slept till midday of the next day. When I awoke the hot noontide sun +had made the tent like an oven. I felt better, but very stiff and sore, +and I had a most ungovernable thirst. There was a pail of water with a +tin pannikin beside the tent pole, and out of this I drank repeated +draughts. Then I lay down again, for I was still very weary. + +But my second sleep was not like my first. It was haunted by wild +nightmares. No sooner had I closed my eyes than I began to live and +move in a fantastic world. The whole bush of the plains lay before me, +and I watched it as if from some view-point in the clouds. It was +midday, and the sandy patches shimmered under a haze of heat. I saw odd +little movements in the bush—a buck’s head raised, a paauw stalking +solemnly in the long grass, a big crocodile rolling off a mudbank in +the river. And then I saw quite clearly Laputa’s figure going east. + +In my sleep I did not think about Arcoll’s manoeuvres. My mind was +wholly set upon Laputa. He was walking wearily, yet at a good pace, and +his head was always turning, like a wild creature snuffing the wind. +There was something with him, a shapeless shadow, which I could not see +clearly. His neck was bare, but I knew well that the collar was in his +pouch. + +He stopped, turned west, and I lost him. The bush world for a space was +quite silent, and I watched it eagerly as an aeronaut would watch the +ground for a descent. For a long time I could see nothing. Then in a +wood near a river there seemed to be a rustling. Some guinea-fowl flew +up as if startled, and a stembok scurried out. I knew that Laputa must +be there. + +Then, as I looked at the river, I saw a head swimming. Nay, I saw two, +one some distance behind the other. The first man landed on the far +bank, and I recognized Laputa. The second was a slight short figure, +and I knew it was Henriques. + +I remember feeling very glad that these two had come together. It was +certain now that Henriques would not escape. Either Laputa would find +out the truth and kill him, or I would come up with him and have my +revenge. In any case he was outside the Kaffir pale, adventuring on his +own. + +I watched the two till they halted near a ruined building. Surely this +was the store I had built at Umvelos’. The thought gave me a horrid +surprise. Laputa and Henriques were on their way to the Rooirand! + +I woke with a start to find my forehead damp with sweat. There was some +fever on me, I think, for my teeth were chattering. Very clear in my +mind was the disquieting thought that Laputa and Henriques would soon +be in the cave. + +One of two things must happen—either Henriques would kill Laputa, get +the collar of rubies, and be in the wilds of Mozambique before I could +come up with his trail; or Laputa would outwit him, and have the +handling himself of the treasure of gold and diamonds which had been +laid up for the rising. If he thought there was a risk of defeat, I +knew he would send my gems to the bottom of the Labongo, and all my +weary work would go for nothing. I had forgotten all about patriotism. +In that hour the fate of the country was nothing to me, and I got no +satisfaction from the thought that Laputa was severed from his army. My +one idea was that the treasure would be lost, the treasure for which I +had risked my life. + +There is a kind of courage which springs from bitter anger and +disappointment. I had thought that I had bankrupted my spirit, but I +found that there was a new passion in me to which my past sufferings +taught no lesson. My uneasiness would not let me rest a moment longer. +I rose to my feet, holding on by the bed, and staggered to the tent +pole. I was weak, but not so very weak that I could not make one last +effort. It maddened me that I should have done so much and yet fail at +the end. + +From a nail on the tent pole hung a fragment of looking-glass which +Arcoll used for shaving. I caught a glimpse of my face in it, white and +haggard and lined, with blue bags below the eyes. The doctor the night +before had sponged it, but he had not got rid of all the stains of +travel. In particular there was a faint splash of blood on the left +temple. I remembered that this was what I had got from the basin of +goat’s blood that night in the cave. I think that the sight of that +splash determined me. Whether I willed it or not, I was sealed of +Laputa’s men. I must play the game to the finish, or never again know +peace of mind on earth. These last four days had made me very old. + +I found a pair of Arcoll’s boots, roomy with much wearing, into which I +thrust my bruised feet. Then I crawled to the door, and shouted for a +boy to bring my horse. A Basuto appeared, and, awed by my appearance, +went off in a hurry to see to the _schimmel_. It was late afternoon, +about the same time of day as had yesterday seen me escaping from +Machudi’s. The Bruderstroom camp was empty, though sentinels were +posted at the approaches. I beckoned the only white man I saw, and +asked where Arcoll was. He told me that he had no news, but added that +the patrols were still on the road as far as Wesselsburg. From this I +gathered that Arcoll must have gone far out into the bush in his chase. +I did not want to see him; above all, I did not want him to find +Laputa. It was my private business that I rode on, and I asked for no +allies. + +Somebody brought me a cup of thick coffee, which I could not drink, and +helped me into the saddle. The _schimmel_ was fresh, and kicked freely +as I cantered off the grass into the dust of the highroad. The whole +world, I remember, was still and golden in the sunset. + + + + +CHAPTER XX +MY LAST SIGHT OF THE REVEREND JOHN LAPUTA + + +It was dark before I got into the gorge of the Letaba. I passed many +patrols, but few spoke to me, and none tried to stop me. Some may have +known me, but I think it was my face and figure which tied their +tongues. I must have been pale as death, with tangled hair and fever +burning in my eyes. Also on my left temple was the splash of blood. + +At Main Drift I found a big body of police holding the ford. I splashed +through and stumbled into one of their camp-fires. A man questioned me, +and told me that Arcoll had got his quarry. “He’s dead, they say. They +shot him out on the hills when he was making for the Limpopo.” But I +knew that this was not true. It was burned on my mind that Laputa was +alive, nay, was waiting for me, and that it was God’s will that we +should meet in the cave. + +A little later I struck the track of the Kaffirs’ march. There was a +broad, trampled way through the bush, and I followed it, for it led to +Dupree’s Drift. All this time I was urging the _schimmel_ with all the +vigour I had left in me. I had quite lost any remnant of fear. There +were no terrors left for me either from Nature or man. At Dupree’s +Drift I rode the ford without a thought of crocodiles. I looked +placidly at the spot where Henriques had slain the Keeper and I had +stolen the rubies. There was no interest or imagination lingering in my +dull brain. My nerves had suddenly become things of stolid, untempered +iron. Each landmark I passed was noted down as one step nearer to my +object. At Umvelos’ I had not the leisure to do more than glance at the +shell which I had built. I think I had forgotten all about that night +when I lay in the cellar and heard Laputa’s plans. Indeed, my doings of +the past days were all hazy and trivial in my mind. I only saw one +sight clearly—two men, one tall and black, the other little and sallow, +slowly creeping nearer to the Rooirand, and myself, a midget on a +horse, spurring far behind through the bush on their trail. I saw the +picture as continuously and clearly as if I had been looking at a scene +on the stage. There was only one change in the setting; the three +figures seemed to be gradually closing together. + +I had no exhilaration in my quest. I do not think I had even much hope, +for something had gone numb and cold in me and killed my youth. I told +myself that treasure-hunting was an enterprise accursed of God, and +that I should most likely die. That Laputa and Henriques would die I +was fully certain. The three of us would leave our bones to bleach +among the diamonds, and in a little the Prester’s collar would glow +amid a little heap of human dust. I was quite convinced of all this, +and quite apathetic. It really did not matter so long as I came up with +Laputa and Henriques, and settled scores with them. That mattered +everything in the world, for it was my destiny. + +I had no means of knowing how long I took, but it was after midnight +before I passed Umvelos’, and ere I got to the Rooirand there was a +fluttering of dawn in the east. I must have passed east of Arcoll’s +men, who were driving the bush towards Majinje’s. I had ridden the +night down and did not feel so very tired. My horse was stumbling, but +my own limbs scarcely pained me. To be sure I was stiff and nerveless +as if hewn out of wood, but I had been as bad when I left Bruderstroom. +I felt as if I could go on riding to the end of the world. + +At the brink of the bush I dismounted and turned the _schimmel_ loose. +I had brought no halter, and I left him to graze and roll. The light +was sufficient to let me see the great rock face rising in a tower of +dim purple. The sky was still picked out with stars, but the moon had +long gone down, and the east was flushing. I marched up the path to the +cave, very different from the timid being who had walked the same road +three nights before. Then my terrors were all to come: now I had +conquered terror and seen the other side of fear. I was centuries +older. + +But beside the path lay something which made me pause. It was a dead +body, and the head was turned away from me. I did not need to see the +face to know who it was. There had been only two men in my vision, and +one of them was immortal. + +I stopped and turned the body over. There was no joy in my heart, none +of the lust of satisfied vengeance or slaked hate. I had forgotten +about the killing of my dog and all the rest of Henriques’ doings. It +was only with curiosity that I looked down on the dead face, swollen +and livid in the first light of morning. + +The man had been strangled. His neck, as we say in Scotland, was +“thrawn”, and that was why he had lain on his back yet with his face +turned away from me. He had been dead probably since before midnight. I +looked closer, and saw that there was blood on his shirt and hands, but +no wound. It was not his blood, but some other’s. Then a few feet off +on the path I found a pistol with two chambers empty. + +What had happened was very plain. Henriques had tried to shoot Laputa +at the entrance of the cave for the sake of the collar and the treasure +within. He had wounded him—gravely, I thought, to judge from the amount +of blood—but the quickness and marksmanship of the Portuguese had not +availed to save his life from those terrible hands. After two shots +Laputa had got hold of him and choked his life out as easily as a man +twists a partridge’s neck. Then he had gone into the cave. + +I saw the marks of blood on the road, and hastened on. Laputa had been +hours in the cave, enough to work havoc with the treasure. He was +wounded, too, and desperate. Probably he had come to the Rooirand +looking for sanctuary and rest for a day or two, but if Henriques had +shot straight he might find a safer sanctuary and a longer rest. For +the third time in my life I pushed up the gully between the straight +high walls of rock, and heard from the heart of the hills the thunder +of the imprisoned river. + +There was only the faintest gleam of light in the cleft, but it +sufficed to show me that the way to the cave was open. The hidden +turnstile in the right wall stood ajar; I entered, and carelessly swung +it behind me. The gates clashed into place with a finality which told +me that they were firmly shut. I did not know the secret of them, so +how should I get out again? + +These things troubled me less than the fact that I had no light at all +now. I had to go on my knees to ascend the stair, and I could feel that +the steps were wet. It must be Laputa’s blood. + +Next I was out on the gallery which skirted the chasm. The sky above me +was growing pale with dawn, and far below the tossing waters were +fretted with light. A light fragrant wind was blowing on the hills, and +a breath of it came down the funnel. I saw that my hands were all +bloody with the stains on the steps, and I rubbed them on the rock to +clean them. Without a tremor I crossed the stone slab over the gorge, +and plunged into the dark alley which led to the inner chamber. + +As before, there was a light in front of me, but this time it was a +pin-point and not the glare of many torches. I felt my way carefully by +the walls of the passage, though I did not really fear anything. It was +by the stopping of these lateral walls that I knew I was in the cave, +for the place had only one single speck of light. The falling wall of +water stood out grey green and ghostly on the left, and I noticed that +higher up it was lit as if from the open air. There must be a great +funnel in the hillside in that direction. I walked a few paces, and +then I made out that the spark in front was a lantern. + +My eyes were getting used to the half-light, and I saw what was beside +the lantern. Laputa knelt on the ashes of the fire which the Keeper had +kindled three days before. He knelt before, and half leaned on, a rude +altar of stone. The lantern stood by him on the floor, and its faint +circle lit something which I was not unprepared for. Blood was welling +from his side, and spreading in a dark pool over the ashes. + +I had no fear, only a great pity—pity for lost romance, for vain +endeavour, for fruitless courage. “Greeting, Inkulu!” I said in Kaffir, +as if I had been one of his indunas. + +He turned his head and slowly and painfully rose to his feet. The +place, it was clear, was lit from without, and the daylight was +growing. The wall of the river had become a sheet of jewels, passing +from pellucid diamond above to translucent emerald below. A dusky +twilight sought out the extreme corners of the cave. Laputa’s tall +figure stood swaying above the white ashes, his hand pressed to his +side. + +“Who is it?” he said, looking at me with blind eyes. + +“It is the storekeeper from Umvelos’,” I answered. + +“The storekeeper of Umvelos’,” he repeated. “God has used the weak +things of the world to confound the strong. A king dies because a +pedlar is troublesome. What do they call you, man? You deserve to be +remembered.” + +I told him “David Crawfurd.” + +“Crawfurd,” he repeated, “you have been the little reef on which a +great vessel has foundered. You stole the collar and cut me off from my +people, and then when I was weary the Portuguese killed me.” + +“No,” I cried, “it was not me. You trusted Henriques, and you got your +fingers on his neck too late. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” + +“You warned me, and I will repay you. I will make you rich, Crawfurd. +You are a trader, and want money. I am a king, and want a throne. But I +am dying, and there will be no more kings in Africa.” + +The mention of riches did not thrill me as I had expected, but the last +words awakened a wild regret. I was hypnotized by the man. To see him +going out was like seeing the fall of a great mountain. + +He stretched himself, gasping, and in the growing light I could see how +broken he was. His cheeks were falling in, and his sombre eyes had +shrunk back in their sockets. He seemed an old worn man standing there +among the ashes, while the blood, which he made no effort to staunch, +trickled down his side till it dripped on the floor. He had ceased to +be the Kaffir king, or the Christian minister, or indeed any one of his +former parts. Death was stripping him to his elements, and the man +Laputa stood out beyond and above the characters he had played, +something strange, and great, and moving, and terrible. + +“We met for the first time three days ago,” he said, “and now you will +be the last to see the Inkulu.” + +“Umvelos’ was not our first meeting,” said I. “Do you mind the Sabbath +eight years since when you preached in the Free Kirk at Kirkcaple? I +was the boy you chased from the shore, and I flung the stone that +blacked your eye. Besides, I came out from England with you and +Henriques, and I was in the boat which took you from Durban to Delagoa +Bay. You and I have been long acquaint, Mr Laputa.” + +“It is the hand of God,” he said solemnly. “Your fate has been twisted +with mine, and now you will die with me.” + +I did not understand this talk about dying. I was not mortally wounded +like him, and I did not think Laputa had the strength to kill me even +if he wished. But my mind was so impassive that I scarcely regarded his +words. + +“I will make you rich,” he cried. “Crawfurd, the storekeeper, will be +the richest man in Africa. We are scattered, and our wealth is +another’s. He shall have the gold and the diamonds—all but the Collar, +which goes with me.” + +He staggered into a dark recess, one of many in the cave, and I +followed him. There were boxes there, tea chests, cartridge cases, and +old brass-ribbed Portuguese coffers. Laputa had keys at his belt, and +unlocked them, his fingers fumbling with weakness. I peered in and saw +gold coin and little bags of stones. + +“Money and diamonds,” he cried. “Once it was the war chest of a king, +and now it will be the hoard of a trader. No, by the Lord! The trader’s +place is with the Terrible Ones.” An arm shot out, and my shoulder was +fiercely gripped. + +“You stole my horse. That is why I am dying. But for you I and my army +would be over the Olifants. I am going to kill you, Crawfurd,” and his +fingers closed in to my shoulder blades. + +Still I was unperturbed. “No, you are not. You cannot. You have tried +to and failed. So did Henriques, and he is lying dead outside. I am in +God’s keeping, and cannot die before my time.” + +I do not know if he heard me, but at any rate the murderous fit passed. +His hand fell to his side and his great figure tottered out into the +cave. He seemed to be making for the river, but he turned and went +through the door I had entered by. I heard him slipping in the passage, +and then there was a minute of silence. + +Suddenly there came a grinding sound, followed by the kind of muffled +splash which a stone makes when it falls into a deep well. I thought +Laputa had fallen into the chasm, but when I reached the door his +swaying figure was coming out of the corridor. Then I knew what he had +done. He had used the remnant of his giant strength to break down the +bridge of stone across the gorge, and so cut off my retreat. + +I really did not care. Even if I had got over the bridge I should +probably have been foiled by the shut turnstile. I had quite forgotten +the meaning of fear of death. + +I found myself giving my arm to the man who had tried to destroy me. + +“I have laid up for you treasure in heaven,” he said. “Your earthly +treasure is in the boxes, but soon you will be seeking incorruptible +jewels in the deep deep water. It is cool and quiet down there, and you +forget the hunger and pain.” + +The man was getting very near his end. The madness of despair came back +to him, and he flung himself among the ashes. + +“We are going to die together, Crawfurd,” he said. “God has twined our +threads, and there will be only one cutting. Tell me what has become of +my army.” + +“Arcoll has guns on the Wolkberg,” I said. “They must submit or +perish.” + +“I have other armies ... No, no, they are nothing. They will all wander +and blunder and fight and be beaten. There is no leader anywhere ... +And I am dying.” + +There was no gainsaying the signs of death. I asked him if he would +like water, but he made no answer. His eyes were fixed on vacancy, and +I thought I could realize something of the bitterness of that great +regret. For myself I was as cold as a stone. I had no exultation of +triumph, still less any fear of my own fate. I stood silent, the +half-remorseful spectator of a fall like the fall of Lucifer. + +“I would have taught the world wisdom.” Laputa was speaking English in +a strange, thin, abstracted voice. “There would have been no king like +me since Charlemagne,” and he strayed into Latin which I have been told +since was an adaptation of the Epitaph of Charles the Great. “_Sub hoc +conditorio_,” he crooned, “_situm est corpus Joannis, magni et +orthodoxi Imperatoris, qui imperium Africanum nobiliter ampliavit, et +multos per annos mundum feliciter rexit._”[1] He must have chosen this +epitaph long ago. + +He lay for a few seconds with his head on his arms, his breast heaving +with agony. + +“No one will come after me. My race is doomed, and in a little they +will have forgotten my name. I alone could have saved them. Now they go +the way of the rest, and the warriors of John become drudges and +slaves.” + +Something clicked in his throat, he gasped and fell forward, and I +thought he was dead. Then he struggled as if to rise. I ran to him, and +with all my strength aided him to his feet. + +“Unarm, Eros,” he cried. “The long day’s task is done.” With the +strange power of a dying man he tore off his leopard-skin and belt till +he stood stark as on the night when he had been crowned. From his pouch +he took the Prester’s Collar. Then he staggered to the brink of the +chasm where the wall of green water dropped into the dark depth below. + +I watched, fascinated, as with the weak hands of a child he twined the +rubies round his neck and joined the clasp. Then with a last effort he +stood straight up on the brink, his eyes raised to the belt of daylight +from which the water fell. The light caught the great gems and called +fires from them, the flames of the funeral pyre of a king. + +Once more his voice, restored for a moment to its old vigour, rang out +through the cave above the din of the cascade. His words were those +which the Keeper had used three nights before. With his hands held high +and the Collar burning on his neck he cried, “The Snake returns to the +House of its Birth.” + +“Come,” he cried to me. “The Heir of John is going home.” Then he leapt +into the gulf. There was no sound of falling, so great was the rush of +water. He must have been whirled into the open below where the bridge +used to be, and then swept into the underground deeps, where the +Labongo drowses for thirty miles. Far from human quest he sleeps his +last sleep, and perhaps on a fragment of bone washed into a crevice of +rock there may hang the jewels that once gleamed in Sheba’s hair. + +[1] “Under this stone is laid the body of John, the great and orthodox +Emperor, who nobly enlarged the African realm, and for many years +happily ruled the world.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI +I CLIMB THE CRAGS A SECOND TIME + + +I remember that I looked over the brink into the yeasty abyss with a +mind hovering between perplexity and tears. I wanted to sit down and +cry—why, I did not know, except that some great thing had happened. My +brain was quite clear as to my own position. I was shut in this place, +with no chance of escape and with no food. In a little I must die of +starvation, or go mad and throw myself after Laputa. And yet I did not +care a rush. My nerves had been tried too greatly in the past week. Now +I was comatose, and beyond hoping or fearing. + +I sat for a long time watching the light play on the fretted sheet of +water and wondering where Laputa’s body had gone. I shivered and wished +he had not left me alone, for the darkness would come in time and I had +no matches. After a little I got tired of doing nothing, and went +groping among the treasure chests. One or two were full of coin—British +sovereigns, Kruger sovereigns, Napoleons, Spanish and Portuguese gold +pieces, and many older coins ranging back to the Middle Ages and even +to the ancients. In one handful there was a splendid gold stater, and +in another a piece of Antoninus Pius. The treasure had been collected +for many years in many places, contributions of chiefs from ancient +hoards as well as the cash received from I.D.B. I untied one or two of +the little bags of stones and poured the contents into my hands. Most +of the diamonds were small, such as a labourer might secrete on his +person. The larger ones—and some were very large—were as a rule +discoloured, looking more like big cairngorms. But one or two bags had +big stones which even my inexperienced eye told me were of the purest +water. There must be some new pipe, I thought, for these could not have +been stolen from any known mine. + + + +After that I sat on the floor again and looked at the water. It +exercised a mesmeric influence on me, soothing all care. I was quite +happy to wait for death, for death had no meaning to me. My hate and +fury were both lulled into a trance, since the passive is the next +stage to the overwrought. + +It must have been full day outside now, for the funnel was bright with +sunshine, and even the dim cave caught a reflected radiance. As I +watched the river I saw a bird flash downward, skimming the water. It +turned into the cave and fluttered among its dark recesses. I heard its +wings beating the roof as it sought wildly for an outlet. It dashed +into the spray of the cataract and escaped again into the cave. For +maybe twenty minutes it fluttered, till at last it found the way it had +entered by. With a dart it sped up the funnel of rock into light and +freedom. + +I had begun to watch the bird in idle lassitude, I ended in keen +excitement. The sight of it seemed to take a film from my eyes. I +realized the zest of liberty, the passion of life again. I felt that +beyond this dim underworld there was the great joyous earth, and I +longed for it. I wanted to live now. My memory cleared, and I +remembered all that had befallen me during the last few days. I had +played the chief part in the whole business, and I had won. Laputa was +dead and the treasure was mine, while Arcoll was crushing the Rising at +his ease. I had only to be free again to be famous and rich. My hopes +had returned, but with them came my fears. What if I could not escape? +I must perish miserably by degrees, shut in the heart of a hill, though +my friends were out for rescue. In place of my former lethargy I was +now in a fever of unrest. + +My first care was to explore the way I had come. I ran down the passage +to the chasm which the slab of stone had spanned. I had been right in +my guess, for the thing was gone. Laputa was in truth a Titan, who in +the article of death could break down a bridge which would have taken +any three men an hour to shift. The gorge was about seven yards wide, +too far to risk a jump, and the cliff fell sheer and smooth to the +imprisoned waters two hundred feet below. There was no chance of +circuiting it, for the wall was as smooth as if it had been chiselled. +The hand of man had been at work to make the sanctuary inviolable. + +It occurred to me that sooner or later Arcoll would track Laputa to +this place. He would find the bloodstains in the gully, but the +turnstile would be shut and he would never find the trick of it. Nor +could he have any kaffirs with him who knew the secret of the Place of +the Snake. Still if Arcoll knew I was inside he would find some way to +get to me even though he had to dynamite the curtain of rock. I +shouted, but my voice seemed to be drowned in the roar of the water. It +made but a fresh chord in the wild orchestra, and I gave up hopes in +that direction. + +Very dolefully I returned to the cave. I was about to share the +experience of all treasure-hunters—to be left with jewels galore and +not a bite to sustain life. The thing was too commonplace to be +endured. I grew angry, and declined so obvious a fate. “Ek sal ’n plan +maak,” I told myself in the old Dutchman’s words. I had come through +worse dangers, and a way I should find. To starve in the cave was no +ending for David Crawfurd. Far better to join Laputa in the depths in a +manly hazard for liberty. + +My obstinacy and irritation cheered me. What had become of the +lack-lustre young fool who had mooned here a few minutes back. Now I +was as tense and strung for effort as the day I had ridden from +Blaauwildebeestefontein to Umvelos’. I felt like a runner in the last +lap of a race. For four days I had lived in the midst of terror and +darkness. Daylight was only a few steps ahead, daylight and youth +restored and a new world. + +There were only two outlets from that cave—the way I had come, and the +way the river came. The first was closed, the second a sheer staring +impossibility. I had been into every niche and cranny, and there was no +sign of a passage. I sat down on the floor and looked at the wall of +water. It fell, as I have already explained, in a solid sheet, which +made up the whole of the wall of the cave. Higher than the roof of the +cave I could not see what happened, except that it must be the open +air, for the sun was shining on it. The water was about three yards +distant from the edge of the cave’s floor, but it seemed to me that +high up, level with the roof, this distance decreased to little more +than a foot. + +I could not see what the walls of the cave were like, but they looked +smooth and difficult. Supposing I managed to climb up to the level of +the roof close to the water, how on earth was I to get outside on to +the wall of the ravine? I knew from my old days of rock-climbing what a +complete obstacle the overhang of a cave is. + +While I looked, however, I saw a thing which I had not noticed before. +On the left side of the fall the water sluiced down in a sheet to the +extreme edge of the cave, almost sprinkling the floor with water. But +on the right side the force of water was obviously weaker, and a little +short of the level of the cave roof there was a spike of rock which +slightly broke the fall. The spike was covered, but the covering was +shallow, for the current flowed from it in a rose-shaped spray. If a +man could get to that spike and could get a foot on it without being +swept down, it might be possible—just possible—to do something with the +wall of the chasm above the cave. Of course I knew nothing about the +nature of that wall. It might be as smooth as a polished pillar. + +The result of these cogitations was that I decided to prospect the +right wall of the cave close to the waterfall. But first I went +rummaging in the back part to see if I could find anything to assist +me. In one corner there was a rude cupboard with some stone and metal +vessels. Here, too, were the few domestic utensils of the dead Keeper. +In another were several locked coffers on which I could make no +impression. There were the treasure-chests too, but they held nothing +save treasure, and gold and diamonds were no manner of use to me. Other +odds and ends I found—spears, a few skins, and a broken and notched +axe. I took the axe in case there might be cutting to do. + +Then at the back of a bin my hand struck something which brought the +blood to my face. It was a rope, an old one, but still in fair +condition and forty or fifty feet long. I dragged it out into the light +and straightened its kinks. With this something could be done, assuming +I could cut my way to the level of the roof. + +I began the climb in my bare feet, and at the beginning it was very +bad. Except on the very edge of the abyss there was scarcely a +handhold. Possibly in floods the waters may have swept the wall in a +curve, smoothing down the inner part and leaving the outer to its +natural roughness. There was one place where I had to hang on by a very +narrow crack while I scraped with the axe a hollow for my right foot. +And then about twelve feet from the ground I struck the first of the +iron pegs. + +To this day I cannot think what these pegs were for. They were old +square-headed things which had seen the wear of centuries. They cannot +have been meant to assist a climber, for the dwellers of the cave had +clearly never contemplated this means of egress. Perhaps they had been +used for some kind of ceremonial curtain in a dim past. They were rusty +and frail, and one of them came away in my hand, but for all that they +marvellously assisted my ascent. + +I had been climbing slowly, doggedly and carefully, my mind wholly +occupied with the task; and almost before I knew I found my head close +under the roof of the cave. It was necessary now to move towards the +river, and the task seemed impossible. I could see no footholds, save +two frail pegs, and in the corner between the wall and the roof was a +rough arch too wide for my body to jam itself in. Just below the level +of the roof—say two feet—I saw the submerged spike of rock. The waters +raged around it, and could not have been more than an inch deep on the +top. If I could only get my foot on that I believed I could avoid being +swept down, and stand up and reach for the wall above the cave. + +But how to get to it? It was no good delaying, for my frail holds might +give at any moment. In any case I would have the moral security of the +rope, so I passed it through a fairly staunch pin close to the roof, +which had an upward tilt that almost made a ring of it. One end of the +rope was round my body, the other was loose in my hand, and I paid it +out as I moved. Moral support is something. Very gingerly I crawled +like a fly along the wall, my fingers now clutching at a tiny knob, now +clawing at a crack which did little more than hold my nails. It was all +hopeless insanity, and yet somehow I did it. The rope and the nearness +of the roof gave me confidence and balance. Then the holds ceased +altogether a couple of yards from the water. I saw my spike of rock a +trifle below me. There was nothing for it but to risk all on a jump. I +drew the rope out of the hitch, twined the slack round my waist, and +leaped for the spike. + +It was like throwing oneself on a line of spears. The solid wall of +water hurled me back and down, but as I fell my arms closed on the +spike. There I hung while my feet were towed outwards by the volume of +the stream as if they had been dead leaves. I was half-stunned by the +shock of the drip on my head, but I kept my wits, and presently got my +face outside the falling sheet and breathed. + +To get to my feet and stand on the spike while all the fury of water +was plucking at me was the hardest physical effort I have ever made. It +had to be done very circumspectly, for a slip would send me into the +abyss. If I moved an arm or leg an inch too near the terrible dropping +wall I knew I should be plucked from my hold. I got my knees on the +outer face of the spike, so that all my body was removed as far as +possible from the impact of the water. Then I began to pull myself +slowly up. + +I could not do it. If I got my feet on the rock the effort would bring +me too far into the water, and that meant destruction. I saw this +clearly in a second while my wrists were cracking with the strain. But +if I had a wall behind me I could reach back with one hand and get what +we call in Scotland a “stelf.” I knew there was a wall, but how far I +could not judge. The perpetual hammering of the stream had confused my +wits. + +It was a horrible moment, but I had to risk it. I knew that if the wall +was too far back I should fall, for I had to let my weight go till my +hand fell on it. Delay would do no good, so with a prayer I flung my +right hand back, while my left hand clutched the spike. + +I found the wall—it was only a foot or two beyond my reach. With a +heave I had my foot on the spike, and turning, had both hands on the +opposite wall. There I stood, straddling like a Colossus over a waste +of white waters, with the cave floor far below me in the gloom, and my +discarded axe lying close to a splash of Laputa’s blood. + +The spectacle made me giddy, and I had to move on or fall. The wall was +not quite perpendicular, but as far as I could see a slope of about +sixty degrees. It was ribbed and terraced pretty fully, but I could see +no ledge within reach which offered standing room. Once more I tried +the moral support of the rope, and as well as I could dropped a noose +on the spike which might hold me if I fell. Then I boldly embarked on a +hand traverse, pulling myself along a little ledge till I was right in +the angle of the fall. Here, happily, the water was shallower and less +violent, and with my legs up to the knees in foam I managed to scramble +into a kind of corner. Now at last I was on the wall of the gully, and +above the cave. I had achieved by amazing luck one of the most +difficult of all mountaineering operations. I had got out of a cave to +the wall above. + +My troubles were by no means over, for I found the cliff most difficult +to climb. The great rush of the stream dizzied my brain, the spray made +the rock damp, and the slope steepened as I advanced. At one overhang +my shoulder was almost in the water again. All this time I was climbing +doggedly, with terror somewhere in my soul, and hope lighting but a +feeble lamp. I was very distrustful of my body, for I knew that at any +moment my weakness might return. The fever of three days of peril and +stress is not allayed by one night’s rest. + +By this time I was high enough to see that the river came out of the +ground about fifty feet short of the lip of the gully, and some ten +feet beyond where I stood. Above the hole whence the waters issued was +a loose slope of slabs and screes. It looked an ugly place, but there I +must go, for the rock-wall I was on was getting unclimbable. + +I turned the corner a foot or two above the water, and stood on a slope +of about fifty degrees, running from the parapet of stone to a line +beyond which blue sky appeared. The first step I took the place began +to move. A boulder crashed into the fall, and tore down into the abyss +with a shattering thunder. I lay flat and clutched desperately at every +hold, but I had loosened an avalanche of earth, and not till my feet +were sprayed by the water did I get a grip of firm rock and check my +descent. All this frightened me horribly, with the kind of despairing +angry fear which I had suffered at Bruderstroom, when I dreamed that +the treasure was lost. I could not bear the notion of death when I had +won so far. + +After that I advanced, not by steps, but by inches. I felt more poised +and pinnacled in the void than when I had stood on the spike of rock, +for I had a substantial hold neither for foot nor hand. It seemed weeks +before I made any progress away from the lip of the waterhole. I dared +not look down, but kept my eyes on the slope before me, searching for +any patch of ground which promised stability. Once I found a scrog of +juniper with firm roots, and this gave me a great lift. A little +further, however, I lit on a bank of screes which slipped with me to +the right, and I lost most of the ground the bush had gained me. My +whole being, I remember, was filled with a devouring passion to be quit +of this gully and all that was in it. + +Then, not suddenly as in romances, but after hard striving and hope +long deferred, I found myself on a firm outcrop of weathered stone. In +three strides I was on the edge of the plateau. Then I began to run, +and at the same time to lose the power of running. I cast one look +behind me, and saw a deep cleft of darkness out of which I had climbed. +Down in the cave it had seemed light enough, but in the clear sunshine +of the top the gorge looked a very pit of shade. For the first and last +time in my life I had vertigo. Fear of falling back, and a mad craze to +do it, made me acutely sick. I managed to stumble a few steps forward +on the mountain turf, and then flung myself on my face. + +When I raised my head I was amazed to find it still early morning. The +dew was yet on the grass, and the sun was not far up the sky. I had +thought that my entry into the cave, my time in it, and my escape had +taken many hours, whereas at the most they had occupied two. It was +little more than dawn, such a dawn as walks only on the hilltops. +Before me was the shallow vale with its bracken and sweet grass, and +farther on the shining links of the stream, and the loch still grey in +the shadow of the beleaguering hills. Here was a fresh, clean land, a +land for homesteads and orchards and children. All of a sudden I +realized that at last I had come out of savagery. The burden of the +past days slipped from my shoulders. I felt young again, and cheerful +and brave. Behind me was the black night, and the horrid secrets of +darkness. Before me was my own country, for that loch and that bracken +might have been on a Scotch moor. The fresh scent of the air and the +whole morning mystery put song into my blood. I remembered that I was +not yet twenty. My first care was to kneel there among the bracken and +give thanks to my Maker, who in very truth had shown me “His goodness +in the land of the living.” + +After a little I went back to the edge of the cliff. There where the +road came out of the bush was the body of Henriques, lying sprawled on +the sand, with two dismounted riders looking hard at it. I gave a great +shout, for in the men I recognized Aitken and the schoolmaster Wardlaw. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII +A GREAT PERIL AND A GREAT SALVATION + + +I must now take up some of the ragged ends which I have left behind me. +It is not my task, as I have said, to write the history of the great +Rising. That has been done by abler men, who were at the centre of the +business, and had some knowledge of strategy and tactics; whereas I was +only a raw lad who was privileged by fate to see the start. If I could, +I would fain make an epic of it, and show how the Plains found at all +points the Plateau guarded, how wits overcame numbers, and at every +pass which the natives tried the great guns spoke and the tide rolled +back. Yet I fear it would be an epic without a hero. There was no +leader left when Laputa had gone. There were months of guerrilla +fighting, and then months of reprisals, when chief after chief was +hunted down and brought to trial. Then the amnesty came and a clean +sheet, and white Africa drew breath again with certain grave +reflections left in her head. On the whole I am not sorry that the +history is no business of mine. Romance died with “the heir of John,” +and the crusade became a sorry mutiny. I can fancy how differently +Laputa would have managed it all had he lived; how swift and sudden his +plans would have been; how under him the fighting would not have been +in the mountain glens, but far in the high-veld among the dorps and +townships. With the Inkulu alive we warred against odds; with the +Inkulu dead the balance sank heavily in our favour. I leave to others +the marches and strategy of the thing, and hasten to clear up the +obscure parts in my own fortunes. + +Arcoll received my message from Umvelos’ by Colin, or rather Wardlaw +received it and sent it on to the post on the Berg where the leader had +gone. Close on its heels came the message from Henriques by a Shangaan +in his pay. It must have been sent off before the Portugoose got to the +Rooirand, from which it would appear that he had his own men in the +bush near the store, and that I was lucky to get off as I did. Arcoll +might have disregarded Henriques’ news as a trap if it had come alone, +but my corroboration impressed and perplexed him. He began to credit +the Portugoose with treachery, but he had no inclination to act on his +message, since it conflicted with his plans. He knew that Laputa must +come into the Berg sooner or later, and he had resolved that his +strategy must be to await him there. But there was the question of my +life. He had every reason to believe that I was in the greatest danger, +and he felt a certain responsibility for my fate. With the few men at +his disposal he could not hope to hold up the great Kaffir army, but +there was a chance that he might by a bold stand effect my rescue. +Henriques had told him of the vow, and had told him that Laputa would +ride in the centre of the force. A body of men well posted at Dupree’s +Drift might split the army at the crossing, and under cover of the fire +I might swim the river and join my friends. Still relying on the vow, +it might be possible for well-mounted men to evade capture. Accordingly +he called for volunteers, and sent off one of his Kaffirs to warn me of +his design. He led his men in person, and of his doings the reader +already knows the tale. But though the crossing was flung into +confusion, and the rear of the army was compelled to follow the +northerly bank of the Letaba, there was no sign of me anywhere. Arcoll +searched the river-banks, and crossed the drift to where the old Keeper +was lying dead. He then concluded that I had been murdered early in the +march, and his Kaffir, who might have given him news of me, was carried +up the stream in the tide of the disorderly army. Therefore, he and his +men rode back with all haste to the Berg by way of Main Drift, and +reached Bruderstroom before Laputa had crossed the highway. + +My information about Inanda’s Kraal decided Arcoll’s next move. Like me +he remembered Beyers’s performance, and resolved to repeat it. He had +no hope of catching Laputa, but he thought that he might hold up the +bulk of his force if he got guns on the ridge above the kraal. A +message had already been sent for guns, and the first to arrive got to +Bruderstroom about the hour when I was being taken by Machudi’s men in +the kloof. The ceremony of the purification prevented Laputa from +keeping a good look-out, and the result was that a way was made for the +guns on the north-western corner of the rampart of rock. It was the way +which Beyers had taken, and indeed the enterprise was directed by one +of Beyers’s old commandants. All that day the work continued, while +Laputa and I were travelling to Machudi’s. Then came the evening when I +staggered into camp and told my news. Arcoll, who alone knew how vital +Laputa was to the success of the insurrection, immediately decided to +suspend all other operations and devote himself to shepherding the +leader away from his army. How the scheme succeeded and what befell +Laputa the reader has already been told. + +Aitken and Wardlaw, when I descended from the cliffs, took me straight +to Blaauwildebeestefontein. I was like a man who is recovering from bad +fever, cured, but weak and foolish, and it was a slow journey which I +made to Umvelos’, riding on Aitken’s pony. At Umvelos’ we found a +picket who had captured the _schimmel_ by the roadside. That wise +beast, when I turned him loose at the entrance to the cave, had trotted +quietly back the way he had come. At Umvelos’ Aitken left me, and next +day, with Wardlaw as companion, I rode up the glen of the Klein +Labongo, and came in the afternoon to my old home. The store was empty, +for Japp some days before had gone off post-haste to Pietersdorp; but +there was Zeeta cleaning up the place as if war had never been heard +of. I slept the night there, and in the morning found myself so much +recovered that I was eager to get away. I wanted to see Arcoll about +many things, but mainly about the treasure in the cave. + +It was an easy journey to Bruderstroom through the meadows of the +plateau. The farmers’ commandoes had been recalled, but the ashes of +their camp fires were still grey among the bracken. I fell in with a +police patrol and was taken by them to a spot on the Upper Letaba, some +miles west of the camp, where we found Arcoll at late breakfast. I had +resolved to take him into my confidence, so I told him the full tale of +my night’s adventure. He was very severe with me, I remember, for my +daft-like ride, but his severity relaxed before I had done with my +story. + +The telling brought back the scene to me, and I shivered at the picture +of the cave with the morning breaking through the veil of water and +Laputa in his death throes. Arcoll did not speak for some time. + +“So he is dead,” he said at last, half-whispering to himself. “Well, he +was a king, and died like a king. Our job now is simple, for there is +none of his breed left in Africa.” + +Then I told him of the treasure. + +“It belongs to you, Davie,” he said, “and we must see that you get it. +This is going to be a long war, but if we survive to the end you will +be a rich man.” + +“But in the meantime?” I asked. “Supposing other Kaffirs hear of it, +and come back and make a bridge over the gorge? They may be doing it +now.” + +“I’ll put a guard on it,” he said, jumping up briskly. “It’s maybe not +a soldier’s job, but you’ve saved this country, Davie, and I’m going to +make sure that you have your reward.” + +After that I went with Arcoll to Inanda’s Kraal. I am not going to tell +the story of that performance, for it occupies no less than two +chapters in Mr Upton’s book. He makes one or two blunders, for he +spells my name with an “o,” and he says we walked out of the camp on +our perilous mission “with faces white and set as a Crusader’s.” That +is certainly not true, for in the first place nobody saw us go who +could judge how we looked, and in the second place we were both smoking +and feeling quite cheerful. At home they made a great fuss about it, +and started a newspaper cry about the Victoria Cross, but the danger +was not so terrible after all, and in any case it was nothing to what I +had been through in the past week. + +I take credit to myself for suggesting the idea. By this time we had +the army in the kraal at our mercy. Laputa not having returned, they +had no plans. It had been the original intention to start for the +Olifants on the following day, so there was a scanty supply of food. +Besides, there were the makings of a pretty quarrel between Umbooni and +some of the north-country chiefs, and I verily believe that if we had +held them tight there for a week they would have destroyed each other +in faction fights. In any case, in a little they would have grown +desperate and tried to rush the approaches on the north and south. Then +we must either have used the guns on them, which would have meant a +great slaughter, or let them go to do mischief elsewhere. Arcoll was a +merciful man who had no love for butchery; besides, he was a statesman +with an eye to the future of the country after the war. But it was his +duty to isolate Laputa’s army, and at all costs, it must be prevented +from joining any of the concentrations in the south. + +Then I proposed to him to do as Rhodes did in the Matoppos, and go and +talk to them. By this time, I argued, the influence of Laputa must have +sunk, and the fervour of the purification be half-forgotten. The army +had little food and no leader. The rank and file had never been +fanatical, and the chiefs and indunas must now be inclined to sober +reflections. But once blood was shed the lust of blood would possess +them. Our only chance was to strike when their minds were perplexed and +undecided. + +Arcoll did all the arranging. He had a message sent to the chiefs +inviting them to an indaba, and presently word was brought back that an +indaba was called for the next day at noon. That same night we heard +that Umbooni and about twenty of his men had managed to evade our ring +of scouts and got clear away to the south. This was all to our +advantage, as it removed from the coming indaba the most irreconcilable +of the chiefs. + +That indaba was a queer business. Arcoll and I left our escort at the +foot of a ravine, and entered the kraal by the same road as I had left +it. It was a very bright, hot winter’s day, and try as I might, I could +not bring myself to think of any danger. I believed that in this way +most temerarious deeds are done; the doer has become insensible to +danger, and his imagination is clouded with some engrossing purpose. +The first sentries received us gloomily enough, and closed behind us as +they had done when Machudi’s men haled me thither. Then the job became +eerie, for we had to walk across a green flat with thousands of eyes +watching us. By-and-by we came to the merula tree opposite the kyas, +and there we found a ring of chiefs, sitting with cocked rifles on +their knees. + +We were armed with pistols, and the first thing Arcoll did was to hand +them to one of the chiefs. “We come in peace,” he said. “We give you +our lives.” + +Then the indaba began, Arcoll leading off. It was a fine speech he +made, one of the finest I have ever listened to. He asked them what +their grievances were; he told them how mighty was the power of the +white man; he promised that what was unjust should be remedied, if only +they would speak honestly and peacefully; he harped on their old +legends and songs, claiming for the king of England the right of their +old monarchs. It was a fine speech, and yet I saw that it did not +convince them. They listened moodily, if attentively, and at the end +there was a blank silence. + +Arcoll turned to me. “For God’s sake, Davie,” he said, “talk to them +about Laputa. It’s our only chance.” + +I had never tried speaking before, and though I talked their tongue I +had not Arcoll’s gift of it. But I felt that a great cause was at +stake, and I spoke up as best I could. + +I began by saying that Inkulu had been my friend, and that at Umvelos’ +before the rising he had tried to save my life. At the mention of the +name I saw eyes brighten. At last the audience was hanging on my words. +I told them of Henriques and his treachery. I told them frankly and +fairly of the doings at Dupree’s Drift. I made no secret of the part I +played. “I was fighting for my life,” I said. “Any man of you who is a +man would have done the like.” + +Then I told them of my last ride, and the sight I saw at the foot of +the Rooirand. I drew a picture of Henriques lying dead with a broken +neck, and the Inkulu, wounded to death, creeping into the cave. + +In moments of extremity I suppose every man becomes an orator. In that +hour and place I discovered gifts I had never dreamed of. Arcoll told +me afterwards that I had spoken like a man inspired, and by a fortunate +chance had hit upon the only way to move my hearers. I told of that +last scene in the cave, when Laputa had broken down the bridge, and had +spoken his dying words—that he was the last king in Africa, and that +without him the rising was at an end. Then I told of his leap into the +river, and a great sigh went up from the ranks about Me. + +“You see me here,” I said, “by the grace of God. I found a way up the +fall and the cliffs which no man has ever travelled before or will +travel again. Your king is dead. He was a great king, as I who stand +here bear witness, and you will never more see his like. His last words +were that the Rising was over. Respect that word, my brothers. We come +to you not in war but in peace, to offer a free pardon, and the redress +of your wrongs. If you fight you fight with the certainty of failure, +and against the wish of the heir of John. I have come here at the risk +of my life to tell you his commands. His spirit approves my mission. +Think well before you defy the mandate of the Snake, and risk the +vengeance of the Terrible Ones.” + +After that I knew that we had won. The chiefs talked among themselves +in low whispers, casting strange looks at me. Then the greatest of them +advanced and laid his rifle at my feet. + +“We believe the word of a brave man,” he said. “We accept the mandate +of the Snake.” + +Arcoll now took command. He arranged for the disarmament bit by bit, +companies of men being marched off from Inanda’s Kraal to stations on +the plateau where their arms were collected by our troops, and food +provided for them. For the full history I refer the reader to Mr +Upton’s work. It took many days, and taxed all our resources, but by +the end of a week we had the whole of Laputa’s army in separate +stations, under guard, disarmed, and awaiting repatriation. + +Then Arcoll went south to the war which was to rage around the +Swaziland and Zululand borders for many months, while to Aitken and +myself was entrusted the work of settlement. We had inadequate troops +at our command, and but for our prestige and the weight of Laputa’s +dead hand there might any moment have been a tragedy. The task took +months, for many of the levies came from the far north, and the job of +feeding troops on a long journey was difficult enough in the winter +season when the energies of the country were occupied with the fighting +in the south. Yet it was an experience for which I shall ever be +grateful, for it turned me from a rash boy into a serious man. I knew +then the meaning of the white man’s duty. He has to take all risks, +recking nothing of his life or his fortunes, and well content to find +his reward in the fulfilment of his task. That is the difference +between white and black, the gift of responsibility, the power of being +in a little way a king; and so long as we know this and practise it, we +will rule not in Africa alone but wherever there are dark men who live +only for the day and their own bellies. Moreover, the work made me +pitiful and kindly. I learned much of the untold grievances of the +natives, and saw something of their strange, twisted reasoning. Before +we had got Laputa’s army back to their kraals, with food enough to tide +them over the spring sowing, Aitken and I had got sounder policy in our +heads than you will find in the towns, where men sit in offices and see +the world through a mist of papers. + +By this time peace was at hand, and I went back to Inanda’s Kraal to +look for Colin’s grave. It was not a difficult quest, for on the sward +in front of the merula tree they had buried him. I found a mason in the +Iron Kranz village, and from the excellent red stone of the +neighbourhood was hewn a square slab with an inscription. It ran thus: +“Here lies buried the dog Colin, who was killed in defending D. +Crawfurd, his master. To him it was mainly due that the Kaffir Rising +failed.” I leave those who have read my tale to see the justice of the +words. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII +MY UNCLE’S GIFT IS MANY TIMES MULTIPLIED + + +We got at the treasure by blowing open the turnstile. It was easy +enough to trace the spot in the rock where it stood, but the most +patient search did not reveal its secret. Accordingly we had recourse +to dynamite, and soon laid bare the stone steps, and ascended to the +gallery. The chasm was bridged with planks, and Arcoll and I crossed +alone. The cave was as I had left it. The bloodstains on the floor had +grown dark with time, but the ashes of the sacramental fire were still +there to remind me of the drama I had borne a part in. When I looked at +the way I had escaped my brain grew dizzy at the thought of it. I do +not think that all the gold on earth would have driven me a second time +to that awful escalade. As for Arcoll, he could not see its possibility +at all. + +“Only a madman could have done it,” he said, blinking his eyes at the +green linn. “Indeed, Davie, I think for about four days you were as mad +as they make. It was a fortunate thing, for your madness saved the +country.” + +With some labour we got the treasure down to the path, and took it +under a strong guard to Pietersdorp. The Government were busy with the +settling up after the war, and it took many weeks to have our business +disposed of. At first things looked badly for me. The Attorney-General +set up a claim to the whole as spoils of war, since, he argued, it was +the war-chest of the enemy we had conquered. I do not know how the +matter would have gone on legal grounds, though I was advised by my +lawyers that the claim was a bad one. But the part I had played in the +whole business, more especially in the visit to Inanda’s Kraal, had +made me a kind of popular hero, and the Government thought better of +their first attitude. Besides, Arcoll had great influence, and the +whole story of my doings, which was told privately by him to some of +the members of the Government, disposed them to be generous. +Accordingly they agreed to treat the contents of the cave as ordinary +treasure trove, of which, by the law, one half went to the discoverer +and one half to the Crown. + +This was well enough so far as the gold was concerned, but another +difficulty arose about the diamonds; for a large part of these had +obviously been stolen by labourers from the mines, and the mining +people laid claim to them as stolen goods. I was advised not to dispute +this claim, and consequently we had a great sorting-out of the stones +in the presence of the experts of the different mines. In the end it +turned out that identification was not an easy matter, for the experts +quarrelled furiously among themselves. A compromise was at last come +to, and a division made; and then the diamond companies behaved very +handsomely, voting me a substantial sum in recognition of my services +in recovering their property. What with this and with my half share of +the gold and my share of the unclaimed stones, I found that I had a +very considerable fortune. The whole of my stones I sold to De Beers, +for if I had placed them on the open market I should have upset the +delicate equipoise of diamond values. When I came finally to cast up my +accounts, I found that I had secured a fortune of a trifle over a +quarter of a million pounds. + +The wealth did not dazzle so much as it solemnized me. I had no impulse +to spend any part of it in a riot of folly. It had come to me like +fairy gold out of the void; it had been bought with men’s blood, almost +with my own. I wanted to get away to a quiet place and think, for of +late my life had been too crowded with drama, and there comes a satiety +of action as well as of idleness. Above all things I wanted to get +home. They gave me a great send-off, and sang songs, and good fellows +shook my hand till it ached. The papers were full of me, and there was +a banquet and speeches. But I could not relish this glory as I ought, +for I was like a boy thrown violently out of his bearings. Not till I +was in the train nearing Cape Town did I recover my equanimity. The +burden of the past seemed to slip from me suddenly as on the morning +when I had climbed the linn. I saw my life all lying before me; and +already I had won success. I thought of my return to my own country, my +first sight of the grey shores of Fife, my visit to Kirkcaple, my +meeting with my mother. I was a rich man now who could choose his +career, and my mother need never again want for comfort. My money +seemed pleasant to me, for if men won theirs by brains or industry, I +had won mine by sterner methods, for I had staked against it my life. I +sat alone in the railway carriage and cried with pure thankfulness. +These were comforting tears, for they brought me back to my old +common-place self. + +My last memory of Africa is my meeting with Tam Dyke. I caught sight of +him in the streets of Cape Town, and running after him, clapped him on +the shoulder. He stared at me as if he had seen a ghost. + +“Is it yourself, Davie?” he cried. “I never looked to see you again in +this world. I do nothing but read about you in the papers. What for did +ye not send for me? Here have I been knocking about inside a ship and +you have been getting famous. They tell me you’re a millionaire, too.” + +I had Tam to dinner at my hotel, and later, sitting smoking on the +terrace and watching the flying-ants among the aloes, I told him the +better part of the story I have here written down. + +“Man, Davie,” he said at the end, “you’ve had a tremendous time. Here +are you not eighteen months away from home, and you’re going back with +a fortune. What will you do with it?” I told him that I proposed, to +begin with, to finish my education at Edinburgh College. At this he +roared with laughter. + +“That’s a dull ending, anyway. It’s me that should have the money, for +I’m full of imagination. You were aye a prosaic body, Davie.” + +“Maybe I am,” I said; “but I am very sure of one thing. If I hadn’t +been a prosaic body, I wouldn’t be sitting here to-night.” + + + +Two years later Aitken found the diamond pipe, which he had always +believed lay in the mountains. Some of the stones in the cave, being +unlike any ordinary African diamonds, confirmed his suspicions and set +him on the track. A Kaffir tribe to the north-east of the Rooirand had +known of it, but they had never worked it, but only collected the +overspill. The closing down of one of the chief existing mines had +created a shortage of diamonds in the world’s markets, and once again +the position was the same as when Kimberley began. Accordingly he made +a great fortune, and to-day the Aitken Proprietary Mine is one of the +most famous in the country. But Aitken did more than mine diamonds, for +he had not forgotten the lesson we had learned together in the work of +resettlement. He laid down a big fund for the education and +amelioration of the native races, and the first fruit of it was the +establishment at Blaauwildebeestefontein itself of a great native +training college. It was no factory for making missionaries and black +teachers, but an institution for giving the Kaffirs the kind of +training which fits them to be good citizens of the state. There you +will find every kind of technical workshop, and the finest experimental +farms, where the blacks are taught modern agriculture. They have proved +themselves apt pupils, and to-day you will see in the glens of the Berg +and in the plains Kaffir tillage which is as scientific as any in +Africa. They have created a huge export trade in tobacco and fruit; the +cotton promises well; and there is talk of a new fibre which will do +wonders. Also along the river bottoms the india-rubber business is +prospering. + +There are playing-fields and baths and reading-rooms and libraries just +as in a school at home. In front of the great hall of the college a +statue stands, the figure of a black man shading his eyes with his +hands and looking far over the plains to the Rooirand. On the pedestal +it is lettered “Prester John,” but the face is the face of Laputa. So +the last of the kings of Africa does not lack his monument. + +Of this institution Mr Wardlaw is the head. He writes to me weekly, for +I am one of the governors, as well as an old friend, and from a recent +letter I take this passage:— + +“I often cast my mind back to the afternoon when you and I sat on the +stoep of the schoolhouse, and talked of the Kaffirs and our future. I +had about a dozen pupils then, and now I have nearly three thousand; +and in place of a tin-roofed shanty and a yard, I have a whole +countryside. You laughed at me for my keenness, Davie, but I’ve seen it +justified. I was never a man of war like you, and so I had to bide at +home while you and your like were straightening out the troubles. But +when it was all over my job began, for I could do what you couldn’t +do—I was the physician to heal wounds. You mind how nervous I was when +I heard the drums beat. I hear them every evening now, for we have made +a rule that all the Kaffir farms on the Berg sound a kind of curfew. It +reminds me of old times, and tells me that though it is peace nowadays +we mean to keep all the manhood in them that they used to exercise in +war. It would do your eyes good to see the garden we have made out of +the Klein Labongo glen. The place is one big orchard with every kind of +tropical fruit in it, and the irrigation dam is as full of fish as it +will hold. Out at Umvelos’ there is a tobacco-factory, and all round +Sikitola’s we have square miles of mealie and cotton fields. The loch +on the Rooirand is stocked with Lochleven trout, and we have made a +bridle-path up to it in a gully east of the one you climbed. You ask +about Machudi’s. The last time I was there the place was white with +sheep, for we have got the edge of the plateau grazed down, and sheep +can get the short bite there. We have cleaned up all the kraals, and +the chiefs are members of our county council, and are as fond of +hearing their own voices as an Aberdeen bailie. It’s a queer +transformation we have wrought, and when I sit and smoke my pipe in the +evening, and look over the plains and then at the big black statue you +and Aitken set up, I thank the Providence that has guided me so far. I +hope and trust that, in the Bible words, ‘the wilderness and the +solitary place are glad for us.’ At any rate it will not be my fault if +they don’t ‘blossom as the rose’. Come out and visit us soon, man, and +see the work you had a hand in starting....” + +I am thinking seriously of taking Wardlaw’s advice. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 611 *** |