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diff --git a/611-h/611-h.htm b/611-h/611-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce01a32 --- /dev/null +++ b/611-h/611-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8833 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Prester John | Project Gutenberg</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 611 ***</div> + +<h1>PRESTER JOHN</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by JOHN BUCHAN</h2> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>TO<br/> +LIONEL PHILLIPS</h3> + +<p class="poem"> +Time, they say, must the best of us capture,<br/> +And travel and battle and gems and gold<br/> +No more can kindle the ancient rapture,<br/> +For even the youngest of hearts grows old.<br/> +But in you, I think, the boy is not over;<br/> +So take this medley of ways and wars<br/> +As the gift of a friend and a fellow-lover<br/> +Of the fairest country under the stars.<br/> +</p> + +<p class="right"> +J. B. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">Chapter I. The Man on the Kirkcaple Shore</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">Chapter II. Furth! Fortune!</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">Chapter III. Blaauwildebeestefontein</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">Chapter IV. My Journey to the Winter-Veld</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">Chapter V. Mr Wardlaw Has a Premonition</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">Chapter VI. The Drums Beat at Sunset</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">Chapter VII. Captain Arcoll Tells a Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">Chapter VIII. I Fall in Again with the Reverend John Laputa</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">Chapter IX. The Store at Umvelos'</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">Chapter X. I Go Treasure-Hunting</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">Chapter XI. The Cave of the Rooirand</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">Chapter XII. Captain Arcoll Sends a Message</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">Chapter XIII. The Drift of the Letaba</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">Chapter XIV. I Carry the Collar of Prester John</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">Chapter XV. Morning in the Berg</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">Chapter XVI. Inanda's Kraal</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">Chapter XVII. A Deal and Its Consequences</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">Chapter XVIII. How a Man May Sometimes Put His Trust in a Horse</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">Chapter XIX. Arcoll's Shepherding</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">Chapter XX. My Last Sight of the Reverend John Laputa</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">Chapter XXI. I Climb the Crags a Second Time</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">Chapter XXII. A Great Peril and a Great Salvation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">Chapter XXIII. My Uncle's Gift Is Many Times Multiplied</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +THE MAN ON THE KIRKCAPLE SHORE</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>débris</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly Tam Dyke gave a gasp of astonishment. “Gosh, it’s the black minister!” +he said. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Your face is bleeding, Davie. Did he get near enough to hit you?” Archie +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He hit me with a stone. But I gave him better. He’s got a bleeding nose to +remember this night by.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> + “I’ve lost my lantern,” said Tam. “The big black brute! See if I don’t tell my + father.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +FURTH! FORTUNE!</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +In this homely way I first heard of a place which was to be the theatre of so +many strange doings. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll wager that fellow has been a slave-driver in his time,” I told Mr +Wardlaw, who said, “God pity his slaves, then.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I had come out with the new schoolmaster. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“From all accounts,” I said, “Blaauwildebeestefontein does not seem popular.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in Mr Colles’s tone which made me risk another question. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to a rum place, Mr Crawfurd,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you would tell me what you have heard.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +Tam and I pressed him to explain, which he did slowly after his fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I asked about Henriques, of whom Tam knew nothing. I described his face, +his clothes, and his habits. Aitken laughed uproariously. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +BLAAUWILDEBEESTEFONTEIN</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>rondavels</i>. 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Yon’s a bonny chief you’ve got, Davie,” were his first words. “For three days +he’s been as fou as the Baltic.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>voorslag</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. </p> + +<p> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 +<i>korhaan</i>. 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +MY JOURNEY TO THE WINTER-VELD</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>naachtmaal</i> 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’. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>baviaan</i>[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.” +</p> + +<p> +After supper, the ingredients of which came largely from my <i>naachtmaal</i>, +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 <i>Skellum</i>! +<i>Skellum</i>![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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “I know. It is in the Rooirand. There is a devil dwells there.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>naachtmaal</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>débris</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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? +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 +<i>mamba</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>débris</i>. 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>Marmion</i>— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Diving as if condemned to lave<br/> +Some demon’s subterranean cave,<br/> +Who, prisoned by enchanter’s spell,<br/> +Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] Baboon. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[2] Schelm: Rascal. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +MR WARDLAW HAS A PREMONITION</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +The Kaffir looked miserably uncomfortable. He shifted from one leg to the +other, casting longing glances at the closed door. +</p> + +<p> +“I tink I go,” he said. “Afterwards we will speak more.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“We should get wind of it in time to crush it at the start,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked so earnest and serious sitting there with his short-sighted eyes +peering at me that I could not help being impressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever is the matter?” I asked. “Has anything happened?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been writing to anybody?” I asked him. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +THE DRUMS BEAT AT SUNSET</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 +<i>hotching</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you take every man that calls into your bedroom, and shut the door?” I +asked. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +I distrusted Japp wholeheartedly enough, but I was convinced that in this case +he spoke the truth. “Had the man any news?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“But that means war,” Mr Wardlaw cried. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +When we got home I found Japp with a face like grey paper. “Did you hear the +drums?”he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I said shortly. “What about them?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are in God’s hands then, and must wait on His will,” I said solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>The Blesbok[1] are changing ground.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] A species of buck. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +CAPTAIN ARCOLL TELLS A TALE</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 +<i>dacha</i>[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. +</p> + +<p> +The native gave me a good-day in Kaffir, then begged for tobacco or a handful +of mealie-meal. +</p> + +<p> +I asked him where he came from. +</p> + +<p> +“From the west, Inkoos,” he said, “and before that from the south. It is a sore +road for old bones.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“The blesbok are changing ground,” he said, and looked me straight in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +I followed, and, speaking English, asked him if he knew of a man named Colles. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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 <i>indaba</i>.[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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not till the lamp was lit, the fire burning well, and the house locked +and shuttered, that Captain Arcoll began his tale. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” he said dryly, “you would, and your evidence would be the spying and +drumming. Anything more?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded, “Have you any notion who has been engaged in the job?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing further, but I have made some guesses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s hear your guesses,” he said, blowing smoke rings from his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“I think the main mover is a great black minister who calls himself John +Laputa.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +He puffed away, and then asked suddenly, “Did you ever hear of Prester John?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long did this power last?” I asked wondering to what tale this was +prologue. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Wardlaw nodded eagerly. The story was getting into ground that he knew about. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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 +<i>Ndhlondhlo</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +Neither of us spoke; we were too occupied with fitting this news into our chain +of knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say the scheme is ripe,” I said; “how ripe?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“One question,” I said. “How big a man is Laputa?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“If the rising starts to-morrow,” I asked, “have you any of his plans?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one thing puzzles me,” I said. “What makes Laputa come up here to +start with? Why doesn’t he begin with Zululand?” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows! There’s sure to be sense in it, for he does nothing without reason. +We may know to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow Laputa and Henriques meet at Umvelos’, probably at your new store, +Mr Crawfurd. And so the ball commences.” +</p> + +<p> +My resolution was suddenly taken. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” I said, “I had better be present at the meeting, as representing the +firm.” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Arcoll stared at me and laughed. “I had thought of going myself,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] Hemp. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[2] Council. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[3] Lesser chiefs. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +I FALL IN AGAIN WITH THE REVEREND JOHN LAPUTA</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>berghaan</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>ting-kop</i>,[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. +</p> + +<p> +Colin was deeply suspicious and followed his heels growling, but he never +turned his head. +</p> + +<p> +“The day is warm, father,” I said in Kaffir. “Do you go far?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think you will cut my throat,” I said to myself. “Your game is too +big for common murder.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to make tea,” I said. “If you have come far you would maybe like a +cup?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a fine dog,” he observed. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“It were wise to go to-night,” he said, with a touch of menace in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t,” I said, and began to sing the chorus of a ridiculous music-hall +song— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“There’s no place like home—but<br/> +I’m afraid to go home in the dark.” +</p> + +<p> +Laputa shrugged his shoulders, stepped over the bristling Colin, and went out. +When I looked after him two minutes later he had disappeared. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] The circlet into which, with the aid of gum, Zulu warriors weave their +hair. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +THE STORE AT UMVELOS’</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa said something which I did not catch. Henriques laughed an ugly laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better make certain of him,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +He took something—I could not see what—out of his pocket, and held it before +his companion. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa asked a question. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Laputa must have disapproved, for Henriques’ voice grew high. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Meanwhile,” said Laputa, “there is the gathering at Ntabakaikonjwa.[1] It will +take us three hours’ hard riding to get there.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, when we get there, what happens?” Henriques asked with a laugh. “What +kind of magic will you spring on us?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a strong contrast between the flippant tone of the Portugoose and the +grave voice which answered him. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t propose to lead the march in a necklace of rubies,” said +Henriques, with a sudden eagerness in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +Again Laputa spoke gravely, and, as it were, abstractedly. I heard the voice of +one whose mind was fixed on a far horizon. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said Henriques. “What about the purification you mentioned?” +</p> + +<p> +I had missed this before and listened earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“There will be no patrol,” Laputa replied. “Our march will be as secret and as +swift as death. I have made my preparations.” +</p> + +<p> +“But suppose you met with opposition,” the Portugoose persisted, “would the +rule hold?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“By God, he’s gone,” I heard Henriques say. “The swine was listening, and he +has bolted now.” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t bolt far,” Laputa said. “He is here. He is snoring behind the +counter.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa seemed to have caught him by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>blaauw-schimmel</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +Then I spoke to Colin. “Home with you,” I said. “Home, old man, as if you were +running down a tsessebe.”[3] +</p> + +<p> +The dog seemed puzzled. “Home,” I said again, pointing west in the direction of +the Berg. “Home, you brute.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +A second later and I was in the saddle, riding hell-for-leather for the north. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] Literally, “The Hill which is not to be pointed at”. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[2] Literally, “Very sacred thing”. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[3] A species of buck, famous for its speed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +I GO TREASURE-HUNTING</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 +<i>schimmel</i> feel my knees in his ribs. Within an hour I should be at the +cliff’s foot. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>naachtmaal</i>[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 <i>schimmel</i> and shouted for a +passage. “Make way!” I cried in Kaffir. “I bear a message from the Inkulu.[2] +Clear out, you dogs!” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly a hand was laid on my breast, and a voice demanded, “The word?” +</p> + +<p> +“Immanuel,” I said hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Who comes?” he asked as I entered. +</p> + +<p> +“A messenger from the Inkulu,” I spoke up boldly. “He follows soon with the +white man, Henriques.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] The Communion Sabbath. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[2] A title applied only to the greatest chiefs. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +THE CAVE OF THE ROOIRAND</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Even so,” cried the priest, “will the king quench in blood the hearth-fires of +his foes.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of God,” came the voice, “I deliver to the heir of John the Snake +of John.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +<i>“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.</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>“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.</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>“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.</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>“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.</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>“And the rebuke of His people shall He take away from off all the earth; for +the Lord hath spoken it.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>ringkops</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly I heard a voice—the voice of Henriques—cry, “By God, a spy!” I felt my +throat caught, but I was beyond resisting. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +CAPTAIN ARCOLL SENDS A MESSAGE</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +This was ordinary Kaffir brag, and it made me angry. But I thought it best to +go cannily. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thank God, my courage and common sense were coming back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow we shall see what we shall see,” I said stoically, and a loud +drum-beat sounded through the camp. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake get me some food,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Baas,” he said, “I come from Ratitswan, and I have a message for you.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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— </p> + +<p> <i>“Henricus de Letaba transeunda apud Duprei vada jam nos certiores +fecit.”</i>[2] +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Mr Storekeeper,” he said, “you and I have met before under pleasanter +circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +I said nothing, my mind being busy with what to do at the drift. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Still I said nothing. If the man had come to mock me, he would get no change +out of David Crawfurd. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The vanity of 19 is an incalculable thing. I rose to the fly. +</p> + +<p> +“I know the kind of precaution you wanted to take,” I muttered. +</p> + +<p> +“You heard that too? Well, I confess I am in favour of doing a job thoroughly +when I take it up.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the Koodoo Flats, for example,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +I saw his meaning, and did not for a second believe him; but I had the sense to +temporize. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean to say that you did not kill the Dutchmen, and did not mean to +knife me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean to say that I am not a fool,” he said, lighting another cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +I said nothing, but the thought made my flesh creep. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Dupree’s Drift;” whispered my warder. “Courage, Inkoos;[3] in an hour’s time +you will be free.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[1] Boer elephant guns. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[2] “Henriques has already told us about the crossing at Dupree’s Drift.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[3] Great chief. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +THE DRIFT OF THE LETABA</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +I picked them up and stuffed them into my breeches pocket. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +I CARRY THE COLLAR OF PRESTER JOHN</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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! +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Xenophon’s Ten Thousand did not hail the sea more gladly than I welcomed those +frowning ramparts of the Berg. +</p> + +<p> +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: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Night’s candles are burned out, and jocund day<br/> +Walks tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.” +</p> + +<p> +Up there among the clouds was my salvation. Like the Psalmist, I lifted my eyes +to the hills from whence came my aid. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +And then I knew that I was very weary. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +MORNING IN THE BERG</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Halt!” I said in Kaffir, as one of them made a hesitating step to advance. +“Who are you and what do you seek?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“We are sent by Inkulu,” the biggest of them said. “He bade us bring you to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what if I refuse to go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Baas, we must take you to him. We are under the vow of the Snake.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +They grinned at one another, but I could see that my words had no effect. +Laputa had done his business too well. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +The men made no difficulty, and with my head between Colin’s paws I slipped +into dreamless slumber. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“If you want me to go to the Inkulu, you must carry me,” I said, as I dropped +once more on the ground. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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? +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +INANDA’S KRAAL</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa’s eye fell on me, a clear searching eye with a question in it. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +As the men laid hands on me, I saw the exultant grin on Henriques’ face. It was +more than I could endure. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you awake, Mr Storekeeper?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m awake,” I said. “What do you want with me?” +</p> + +<p> +Some one stepped out of the gloom and sat down near me. A naked black foot +broke the belt of light on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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’.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Laputa laughed. It was a horrid sound in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“Henriques will see that the truth does not fall short of my forecast,” he went +on. “For I have appointed Henriques your executioner.” +</p> + +<p> +The name brought my senses back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +My plan was slowly coming back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me back the <i>Ndhlondhlo</i>,” he cried, like a petted child. “Give me +back the collar of John.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the moment I had been waiting for. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa returned, closing the door behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he brought out a Bible, and made me swear on it that I would do as I +promised. +</p> + +<p> +“Swear to me in turn,” I said, “that you will give me my life if I restore the +jewels.” +</p> + +<p> +He swore, kissing the book like a witness in a police-court. I had forgotten +that the man called himself a Christian. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br/> +A DEAL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES</h2> + +<p> +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 +<i>schimmel</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i>, and the +beautiful creature turned his mild eyes on the pair of us. I wondered if he +recognized his rider of two nights ago. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Like the Trojan horse,” I said involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said my companion, “the same old device,” and to my amazement he quoted +some lines of Virgil. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you understand Latin?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you are a Christian, what sort of Christianity is it to deluge the land +with blood?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +I had no answer, being too weak and forlorn to think. But I fastened on his +patriotic plea. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are my people,” he said simply. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Laputa looked at me with an odd, meditative look. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i>’s eyes, strained his ears +like a sable antelope who has scented danger. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i>. +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Laputa dismounted and looked down into the gorge. +</p> + +<p> +“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 <i>schimmel</i>’s neck, and knee-haltered his beast. +And at that moment I had an inspiration. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Down on your knees,” he cried, “and reverence the <i>Ndhlondhlo</i>. Down, you +impious dog, and seek pardon for your sacrilege.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t,” I said. “I won’t bow to any heathen idol.” +</p> + +<p> +He pointed his pistol at me. +</p> + +<p> +“In a second I shoot where your head is now. Down, you fool, or perish.” +</p> + +<p> +“You promised me my life,” I said stubbornly, though Heaven knows why I chose +to act thus. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +I pretended to be dazed and terrified. +</p> + +<p> +“You promised me my life,” I whimpered. +</p> + +<p> +“Your life,” he cried. “Yes, you shall have your life; and before long you will +pray for death.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I saved the Collar,” I pleaded. “Henriques would have stolen it. I brought +it safe here, and now you have got it.” +</p> + +<p> +Meantime I was pulling myself up on the shelf, and loosening with one hand a +boulder which overhung the pool. +</p> + +<p> +“You have been repaid,” he said savagely. “You will not die.” +</p> + +<p> +“But my life is no use without liberty,” I said, working at the boulder till it +lay loose in its niche. +</p> + +<p> +He did not answer, being intent on examining the Collar to see if it had +suffered any harm. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope it isn’t scratched,” I said. “Henriques trod on it when I hit him.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> +grazing in the light of the westering sun. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i>, 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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br/> +HOW A MAN MAY SOMETIMES PUT HIS TRUST IN A HORSE</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +The mood did not last long. I came back to earth with a shock, as the +<i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> by the +head and turned him due left. Now I remembered where the highroad ran, and I +remembered something else. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> swung to the right, and +the next I knew some one had taken my bridle and was speaking to me. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Arcoll,” I managed to croak. “For God’s sake take me to Arcoll.” +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +The next thing I knew I was being lifted off the <i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +“Davie,” the voice said, “you’re back among friends, my lad. Tell me, where +have you been?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want Arcoll,” I moaned. “Where is Ratitswan?” There were tears of weakness +running down my cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Arcoll is here,” said the voice; “he is holding your hands, Davie. Quiet, lad, +quiet. Your troubles are all over now.” +</p> + +<p> +I made a great effort, found the eyes to which the voice belonged, and spoke to +them. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the voice said, “you hid the rubies,—and then?” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +I heard the voice say “Yes?” again inquiringly, but my mind ran off at a +tangent. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +I saw a smiling face before me. +</p> + +<p> +“Good lad. Colles told me you weren’t wanting in intelligence. What if we have +done that very thing, Davie?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Arcoll, still holding my hands, brought his face close to mine, so that his +clear eyes mastered and constrained me. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake, hurry then,” I cried. “In an hour he will be over it and back +in the kraal.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the river is a long way.” +</p> + +<p> +“River?” I repeated hazily. “What river? The Letaba is not the place. It is the +road I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +Arcoll’s hands closed firmly on my wrists. +</p> + +<p> +“You left Laputa at Machudi’s and rode here without stopping. That would take +you an hour. Had Laputa a horse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but I took it,” I stammered. “You can see it behind me.” Arcoll dropped +my hands and stood up straight. +</p> + +<p> +“By God, we’ve got him!” he said, and he spoke to his companions. A man turned +and ran out of the tent. +</p> + +<p> +Then I remembered what I wanted to say. I struggled from the bed and put my +hands on his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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! +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br/> +ARCOLL’S SHEPHERDING</h2> + +<p> +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 <i>Times</i>, 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>korhaan</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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’. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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! +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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 <i>schimmel</i>. 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. +</p> + +<p> +Somebody brought me a cup of thick coffee, which I could not drink, and helped +me into the saddle. The <i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX<br/> +MY LAST SIGHT OF THE REVEREND JOHN LAPUTA</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +At the brink of the bush I dismounted and turned the <i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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? +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it?” he said, looking at me with blind eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the storekeeper from Umvelos’,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him “David Crawfurd.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“We met for the first time three days ago,” he said, “and now you will be the +last to see the Inkulu.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the hand of God,” he said solemnly. “Your fate has been twisted with +mine, and now you will die with me.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +I found myself giving my arm to the man who had tried to destroy me. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The man was getting very near his end. The madness of despair came back to him, +and he flung himself among the ashes. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arcoll has guns on the Wolkberg,” I said. “They must submit or perish.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. “<i>Sub hoc conditorio</i>,” he +crooned, “<i>situm est corpus Joannis, magni et orthodoxi Imperatoris, qui +imperium Africanum nobiliter ampliavit, et multos per annos mundum feliciter +rexit.</i>”[1] He must have chosen this epitaph long ago. +</p> + +<p> +He lay for a few seconds with his head on his arms, his breast heaving with +agony. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[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.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br/> +I CLIMB THE CRAGS A SECOND TIME</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br/> +A GREAT PERIL AND A GREAT SALVATION</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>schimmel</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I told him of the treasure. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +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. +</p> + +<p> +Arcoll turned to me. “For God’s sake, Davie,” he said, “talk to them about +Laputa. It’s our only chance.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“We believe the word of a brave man,” he said. “We accept the mandate of the +Snake.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br/> +MY UNCLE’S GIFT IS MANY TIMES MULTIPLIED</h2> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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....” +</p> + +<p> +I am thinking seriously of taking Wardlaw’s advice. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 611 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + + |