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X
KING SOLOMON'S MINES
by
H. RIDER HAGGARD
CHAPTER XIV
THE LAST STAND OF THE GREYS
In a few more minutes the regiments destined to carry out the flanking
movements had tramped off in silence, keeping carefully to the lee of
the rising ground in order to conceal their advance from the keen eyes
of Twala's scouts.
Half an hour or more was allowed to elapse between the setting out of
the horns or wings of the army before any stir was made by the Greys
and their supporting regiment, known as the Buffaloes, which formed its
chest, and were destined to bear the brunt of the battle.
Both of these regiments were almost perfectly fresh, and of full
strength, the Greys having been in reserve in the morning, and having
lost but a small number of men in sweeping back that part of the attack
which had proved successful in breaking the line of defence, on the
occasion when I charged with them and was stunned for my pains. As for
the Buffaloes, they had formed the third line of defence on the left,
and since the attacking force at that point had not succeeded in
breaking through the second, they had scarcely come into action at all.
Infadoos, who was a wary old general, and knew the absolute importance
of keeping up the spirits of his men on the eve of such a desperate
encounter, employed the pause in addressing his own regiment, the
Greys, in poetical language: explaining to them the honour that they
were receiving in being put thus in the forefront of the battle, and in
having the great white warrior from the Stars to fight with them in
their ranks; and promising large rewards of cattle and promotion to all
who survived in the event of Ignosi's arms being successful.
I looked down the long lines of waving black plumes and stern faces
beneath them, and sighed to think that within one short hour most, if
not all, of those magnificent veteran warriors, not a man of whom was
under forty years of age, would be laid dead or dying in the dust. It
could not be otherwise; they were being condemned, with that wise
recklessness of human life which marks the great general, and often
saves his forces and attains his ends, to certain slaughter, in order
to give their cause and the remainder of the army a chance of success.
They were foredoomed to die, and they knew the truth. It was to be
their task to engage regiment after regiment of Twala's army on the
narrow strip of green beneath us, till they were exterminated or till
the wings found a favourable opportunity for their onslaught. And yet
they never hesitated, nor could I detect a sign of fear upon the face
of a single warrior. There they were—going to certain death, about to
quit the blessed light of day for ever, and yet able to contemplate
their doom without a tremor. Even at that moment I could not help
contrasting their state of mind with my own, which was far from
comfortable, and breathing a sigh of envy and admiration. Never before
had I seen such an absolute devotion to the idea of duty, and such a
complete indifference to its bitter fruits.
"Behold your king!" ended old Infadoos, pointing to Ignosi; "go fight
and fall for him, as is the duty of brave men, and cursed and shameful
for ever be the name of him who shrinks from death for his king, or who
turns his back to the foe. Behold your king, chiefs, captains, and
soldiers! Now do your homage to the sacred Snake, and then follow on,
that Incubu and I may show you a road to the heart of Twala's host."
There was a moment's pause, then suddenly a murmur arose from the
serried phalanxes before us, a sound like the distant whisper of the
sea, caused by the gentle tapping of the handles of six thousand spears
against their holders' shields. Slowly it swelled, till its growing
volume deepened and widened into a roar of rolling noise, that echoed
like thunder against the mountains, and filled the air with heavy waves
of sound. Then it decreased, and by faint degrees died away into
nothing, and suddenly out crashed the royal salute.
Ignosi, I thought to myself, might well be a proud man that day, for no
Roman emperor ever had such a salutation from gladiators "about to die."
Ignosi acknowledged this magnificent act of homage by lifting his
battle-axe, and then the Greys filed off in a triple-line formation,
each line containing about one thousand fighting men, exclusive of
officers. When the last companies had advanced some five hundred yards,
Ignosi put himself at the head of the Buffaloes, which regiment was
drawn up in a similar three-fold formation, and gave the word to march,
and off we went, I, needless to say, uttering the most heartfelt
prayers that I might emerge from that entertainment with a whole skin.
Many a *** position have I found myself in, but never before in one
quite so unpleasant as the present, or one in which my chance of coming
off safe was smaller.
By the time that we reached the edge of the plateau the Greys were
already half-way down the slope ending in the tongue of grass land that
ran up into the bend of the mountain, something as the frog of a
horse's foot runs up into the shoe. The excitement in Twala's camp on
the plain beyond was very great, and regiment after regiment was
starting forward at a long swinging trot in order to reach the root of
the tongue of land before the attacking force could emerge into the
plain of Loo.
This tongue, which was some four hundred yards in depth, even at its
root or widest part was not more than six hundred and fifty paces
across, while at its tip it scarcely measured ninety. The Greys, who,
in passing down the side of the hill and on to the tip of the tongue,
had formed into a column, on reaching the spot where it broadened out
again, reassumed their triple-line formation, and halted dead.
Then we—that is, the Buffaloes—moved down the tip of the tongue and
took our stand in reserve, about one hundred yards behind the last line
of the Greys, and on slightly higher ground. Meanwhile we had leisure
to observe Twala's entire force, which evidently had been reinforced
since the morning attack, and could not now, notwithstanding their
losses, number less than forty thousand, moving swiftly up towards us.
But as they drew near the root of the tongue they hesitated, having
discovered that only one regiment could advance into the gorge at a
time, and that there, some seventy yards from the mouth of it,
unassailable except in front, on account of the high walls of
boulder-strewn ground on each side, stood the famous regiment of Greys,
the pride and glory of the Kukuana army, ready to hold the way against
their power as the three Romans once held the bridge against thousands.
They hesitated, and finally stopped their advance; there was no
eagerness to cross spears with these three grim ranks of warriors who
stood so firm and ready. Presently, however, a tall general, wearing
the customary head-dress of nodding ostrich plumes, appeared, attended
by a group of chiefs and orderlies, being, I thought, none other than
Twala himself. He gave an order, and the first regiment, raising a
shout, charged up towards the Greys, who remained perfectly still and
silent till the attacking troops were within forty yards, and a volley
of _tollas_, or throwing-knives, came rattling among their ranks.
Then suddenly with a bound and a roar, they sprang forward with
uplifted spears, and the regiment met in deadly strife. Next second the
roll of the meeting shields came to our ears like the sound of thunder,
and the plain seemed to be alive with flashes of light reflected from
the shimmering spears. To and fro swung the surging mass of struggling,
stabbing humanity, but not for long. Suddenly the attacking lines began
to grow thinner, and then with a slow, long heave the Greys passed over
them, just as a great wave heaves up its bulk and passes over a sunken
ridge. It was done; that regiment was completely destroyed, but the
Greys had but two lines left now; a third of their number were dead.
Closing up shoulder to shoulder, once more they halted in silence and
awaited attack; and I was rejoiced to catch sight of Sir Henry's yellow
beard as he moved to and fro arranging the ranks. So he was yet alive!
Meanwhile we moved on to the ground of the encounter, which was
cumbered by about four thousand prostrate human beings, dead, dying,
and wounded, and literally stained red with blood. Ignosi issued an
order, which was rapidly passed down the ranks, to the effect that none
of the enemy's wounded were to be killed, and so far as we could see
this command was scrupulously carried out. It would have been a
shocking sight, if we had found time to think of such things.
But now a second regiment, distinguished by white plumes, kilts, and
shields, was moving to the attack of the two thousand remaining Greys,
who stood waiting in the same ominous silence as before, till the foe
was within forty yards or so, when they hurled themselves with
irresistible force upon them. Again there came the awful roll of the
meeting shields, and as we watched the tragedy repeated itself.
But this time the issue was left longer in doubt; indeed, it seemed for
awhile almost impossible that the Greys should again prevail. The
attacking regiment, which was formed of young men, fought with the
utmost fury, and at first seemed by sheer weight to be driving the
veterans back. The slaughter was truly awful, hundreds falling every
minute; and from among the shouts of the warriors and the groans of the
dying, set to the music of clashing spears, came a continuous hissing
undertone of "_S'gee, s'gee_," the note of triumph of each victor as he
passed his assegai through and through the body of his fallen foe.
But perfect discipline and steady and unchanging valour can do wonders,
and one veteran soldier is worth two young ones, as soon became
apparent in the present case. For just when we thought that it was all
over with the Greys, and were preparing to take their place so soon as
they made room by being destroyed, I heard Sir Henry's deep voice
ringing out through the din, and caught a glimpse of his circling
battle-axe as he waved it high above his plumes. Then came a change;
the Greys ceased to give; they stood still as a rock, against which the
furious waves of spearmen broke again and again, only to recoil.
Presently they began to move once more—forward this time; as they had
no firearms there was no smoke, so we could see it all. Another minute
and the onslaught grew fainter.
"Ah, these are _men_, indeed; they will conquer again," called out
Ignosi, who was grinding his teeth with excitement at my side. "See, it
is done!"
Suddenly, like puffs of smoke from the mouth of a cannon, the attacking
regiment broke away in flying groups, their white head-dresses
streaming behind them in the wind, and left their opponents victors,
indeed, but, alas! no more a regiment. Of the gallant triple line,
which forty minutes before had gone into action three thousand strong,
there remained at most some six hundred blood-spattered men; the rest
were under foot. And yet they cheered and waved their spears in
triumph, and then, instead of falling back upon us as we expected, they
ran forward, for a hundred yards or so, after the flying groups of
foemen, took possession of a rising knoll of ground, and, resuming
their triple formation, formed a threefold ring around its base. And
there, thanks be to Heaven, standing on the top of the mound for a
minute, I saw Sir Henry, apparently unharmed, and with him our old
friend Infadoos. Then Twala's regiments rolled down upon the doomed
band, and once more the battle closed in.
As those who read this history will probably long ago have gathered, I
am, to be honest, a bit of a coward, and certainly in no way given to
fighting, though somehow it has often been my lot to get into
unpleasant positions, and to be obliged to shed man's blood. But I have
always hated it, and kept my own blood as undiminished in quantity as
possible, sometimes by a judicious use of my heels. At this moment,
however, for the first time in my life, I felt my *** burn with
martial ardour. Warlike fragments from the "Ingoldsby Legends,"
together with numbers of sanguinary verses in the Old Testament, sprang
up in my brain like mushrooms in the dark; my blood, which hitherto had
been half-frozen with horror, went beating through my veins, and there
came upon me a savage desire to kill and spare not. I glanced round at
the serried ranks of warriors behind us, and somehow, all in an
instant, I began to wonder if my face looked like theirs. There they
stood, the hands twitching, the lips apart, the fierce features
instinct with the hungry *** of battle, and in the eyes a look like
the glare of a bloodhound when after long pursuit he sights his quarry.
Only Ignosi's heart, to judge from his comparative self-possession,
seemed, to all appearances, to beat as calmly as ever beneath his
leopard-skin cloak, though even _he_ still ground his teeth. I could
bear it no longer.
"Are we to stand here till we put out roots, Umbopa—Ignosi, I
mean—while Twala swallows our brothers yonder?" I asked.
"Nay, Macumazahn," was the answer; "see, now is the ripe moment: let us
pluck it."
As he spoke a fresh regiment rushed past the ring upon the little
mound, and wheeling round, attacked it from the hither side.
Then, lifting his battle-axe, Ignosi gave the signal to advance, and,
screaming the wild Kukuana war-cry, the Buffaloes charged home with a
rush like the rush of the sea.
What followed immediately on this it is out of my power to tell. All I
can remember is an irregular yet ordered advance, that seemed to shake
the ground; a sudden change of front and forming up on the part of the
regiment against which the charge was directed; then an awful shock, a
dull roar of voices, and a continuous flashing of spears, seen through
a red mist of blood.
When my mind cleared I found myself standing inside the remnant of the
Greys near the top of the mound, and just behind no less a person than
Sir Henry himself. How I got there I had at the moment no idea, but Sir
Henry afterwards told me that I was borne up by the first furious
charge of the Buffaloes almost to his feet, and then left, as they in
turn were pressed back. Thereon he dashed out of the circle and dragged
me into shelter.
As for the fight that followed, who can describe it? Again and again
the multitudes surged against our momentarily lessening circle, and
again and again we beat them back.
"The stubborn spearmen still made good The dark impenetrable wood,
Each stepping where his comrade stood The instant that he fell,"
as someone or other beautifully says.
It was a splendid thing to see those brave battalions come on time
after time over the barriers of their dead, sometimes lifting corpses
before them to receive our spear-thrusts, only to leave their own
corpses to swell the rising piles. It was a gallant sight to see that
old warrior, Infadoos, as cool as though he were on parade, shouting
out orders, taunts, and even jests, to keep up the spirit of his few
remaining men, and then, as each charge rolled on, stepping forward to
wherever the fighting was thickest, to bear his share in its repulse.
And yet more gallant was the vision of Sir Henry, whose ostrich plumes
had been shorn off by a spear thrust, so that his long yellow hair
streamed out in the breeze behind him. There he stood, the great Dane,
for he was nothing else, his hands, his axe, and his armour all red
with blood, and none could live before his stroke. Time after time I
saw it sweeping down, as some great warrior ventured to give him
battle, and as he struck he shouted "_O-hoy! O-hoy!_" like his
Berserkir forefathers, and the blow went crashing through shield and
spear, through head-dress, hair, and skull, till at last none would of
their own will come near the great white "_umtagati_," the wizard, who
killed and failed not.
But suddenly there rose a cry of "_Twala, y' Twala_," and out of the
press sprang forward none other than the gigantic one-eyed king
himself, also armed with battle-axe and shield, and clad in chain
armour.
"Where art thou, Incubu, thou white man, who slewest Scragga my
son—see if thou canst slay me!" he shouted, and at the same time
hurled a _tolla_ straight at Sir Henry, who fortunately saw it coming,
and caught it on his shield, which it transfixed, remaining wedged in
the iron plate behind the hide.
Then, with a cry, Twala sprang forward straight at him, and with his
battle-axe struck him such a blow upon the shield that the mere force
and shock of it brought Sir Henry, strong man as he is, down upon his
knees.
But at this time the matter went no further, for that instant there
rose from the regiments pressing round us something like a shout of
dismay, and on looking up I saw the cause.
To the right and to the left the plain was alive with the plumes of
charging warriors. The outflanking squadrons had come to our relief.
The time could not have been better chosen. All Twala's army, as Ignosi
predicted would be the case, had fixed their attention on the bloody
struggle which was raging round the remnant of the Greys and that of
the Buffaloes, who were now carrying on a battle of their own at a
little distance, which two regiments had formed the chest of our army.
It was not until our horns were about to close upon them that they had
dreamed of their approach, for they believed these forces to be hidden
in reserve upon the crest of the moon-shaped hill. And now, before they
could even assume a proper formation for defence, the outflanking
_Impis_ had leapt, like greyhounds, on their flanks.
In five minutes the fate of the battle was decided. Taken on both
flanks, and dismayed at the awful slaughter inflicted upon them by the
Greys and Buffaloes, Twala's regiments broke into flight, and soon the
whole plain between us and Loo was scattered with groups of running
soldiers making good their retreat. As for the hosts that had so
recently surrounded us and the Buffaloes, they melted away as though by
magic, and presently we were left standing there like a rock from which
the sea has retreated. But what a sight it was! Around us the dead and
dying lay in heaped-up masses, and of the gallant Greys there remained
but ninety-five men upon their feet. More than three thousand four
hundred had fallen in this one regiment, most of them never to rise
again.
"Men," said Infadoos calmly, as between the intervals of binding a
wound on his arm he surveyed what remained to him of his corps, "ye
have kept up the reputation of your regiment, and this day's fighting
will be well spoken of by your children's children." Then he turned
round and shook Sir Henry Curtis by the hand. "Thou art a great
captain, Incubu," he said simply; "I have lived a long life among
warriors, and have known many a brave one, yet have I never seen a man
like unto thee."
At this moment the Buffaloes began to march past our position on the
road to Loo, and as they went a message was brought to us from Ignosi
requesting Infadoos, Sir Henry, and myself to join them. Accordingly,
orders having been issued to the remaining ninety men of the Greys to
employ themselves in collecting the wounded, we joined Ignosi, who
informed us that he was pressing on to Loo to complete the victory by
capturing Twala, if that should be possible. Before we had gone far,
suddenly we discovered the figure of Good sitting on an ant-heap about
one hundred paces from us. Close beside him was the body of a Kukuana.
"He must be wounded," said Sir Henry anxiously. As he made the remark,
an untoward thing happened. The dead body of the Kukuana soldier, or
rather what had appeared to be his dead body, suddenly sprang up,
knocked Good head over heels off the ant-heap, and began to spear him.
We rushed forward in terror, and as we drew near we saw the brawny
warrior making dig after dig at the prostrate Good, who at each prod
*** all his limbs into the air. Seeing us coming, the Kukuana gave
one final and most vicious dig, and with a shout of "Take that,
wizard!" bolted away. Good did not move, and we concluded that our poor
comrade was done for. Sadly we came towards him, and were astonished to
find him pale and faint indeed, but with a serene smile upon his face,
and his eyeglass still fixed in his eye.
"Capital armour this," he murmured, on catching sight of our faces
bending over him. "How sold that beggar must have been," and then he
fainted. On examination we discovered that he had been seriously
wounded in the leg by a _tolla_ in the course of the pursuit, but that
the chain armour had prevented his last assailant's spear from doing
anything more than bruise him badly. It was a merciful escape. As
nothing could be done for him at the moment, he was placed on one of
the wicker shields used for the wounded, and carried along with us.
On arriving before the nearest gate of Loo we found one of our
regiments watching it in obedience to orders received from Ignosi. The
other regiments were in the same way guarding the different exits to
the town. The officer in command of this regiment saluted Ignosi as
king, and informed him that Twala's army had taken refuge in the town,
whither Twala himself had also escaped, but he thought that they were
thoroughly demoralised, and would surrender. Thereupon Ignosi, after
taking counsel with us, sent forward heralds to each gate ordering the
defenders to open, and promising on his royal word life and forgiveness
to every soldier who laid down his arms, but saying that if they did
not do so before nightfall he would certainly burn the town and all
within its gates. This message was not without its effect. Half an hour
later, amid the shouts and cheers of the Buffaloes, the bridge was
dropped across the fosse, and the gates upon the further side were
flung open.
Taking due precautions against treachery, we marched on into the town.
All along the roadways stood thousands of dejected warriors, their
heads drooping, and their shields and spears at their feet, who, headed
by their officers, saluted Ignosi as king as he passed. On we marched,
straight to Twala's kraal. When we reached the great space, where a day
or two previously we had seen the review and the witch hunt, we found
it deserted. No, not quite deserted, for there, on the further side, in
front of his hut, sat Twala himself, with but one attendant—Gagool.
It was a melancholy sight to see him seated, his battle-axe and shield
by his side, his chin upon his mailed breast, with but one old crone
for companion, and notwithstanding his crimes and misdeeds, a pang of
compassion shot through me as I looked upon Twala thus "fallen from his
high estate." Not a soldier of all his armies, not a courtier out of
the hundreds who had cringed round him, not even a solitary wife,
remained to share his fate or halve the bitterness of his fall. Poor
savage! he was learning the lesson which Fate teaches to most of us who
live long enough, that the eyes of mankind are blind to the
discredited, and that he who is defenceless and fallen finds few
friends and little mercy. Nor, indeed, in this case did he deserve any.
Filing through the kraal gate, we marched across the open space to
where the ex-king sat. When within about fifty yards of him the
regiment was halted, and accompanied only by a small guard we advanced
towards him, Gagool reviling us bitterly as we came. As we drew near,
Twala, for the first time, lifted his plumed head, and fixed his one
eye, which seemed to flash with suppressed fury almost as brightly as
the great diamond bound round his forehead, upon his successful
rival—Ignosi.
"Hail, O king!" he said, with bitter mockery; "thou who hast eaten of
my bread, and now by the aid of the white man's magic hast seduced my
regiments and defeated mine army, hail! What fate hast thou in store
for me, O king?"
"The fate thou gavest to my father, whose throne thou hast sat on these
many years!" was the stern answer.
"It is good. I will show thee how to die, that thou mayest remember it
against thine own time. See, the sun sinks in blood," and he pointed
with his battle-axe towards the setting orb; "it is well that my sun
should go down in its company. And now, O king! I am ready to die, but
I crave the boon of the Kukuana royal House[1] to die fighting. Thou canst not refuse it, or even those cowards
who fled to-day will hold thee shamed."
"It is granted. Choose—with whom wilt thou fight? Myself I cannot
fight with thee, for the king fights not except in war."
Twala's sombre eye ran up and down our ranks, and I felt, as for a
moment it rested on myself, that the position had developed a new
horror. What if he chose to begin by fighting _me_? What chance should
I have against a desperate savage six feet five high, and broad in
proportion? I might as well commit suicide at once. Hastily I made up
my mind to decline the combat, even if I were hooted out of Kukuanaland
as a consequence. It is, I think, better to be hooted than to be
quartered with a battle-axe.
Presently Twala spoke.
"Incubu, what sayest thou, shall we end what we began to-day, or shall
I call thee coward, white—even to the liver?"
"Nay," interposed Ignosi hastily; "thou shalt not fight with Incubu."
"Not if he is afraid," said Twala.
Unfortunately Sir Henry understood this remark, and the blood flamed up
into his cheeks.
"I will fight him," he said; "he shall see if I am afraid."
"For Heaven's sake," I entreated, "don't risk your life against that of
a desperate man. Anybody who saw you to-day will know that you are
brave enough."
"I will fight him," was the sullen answer. "No living man shall call me
a coward. I am ready now!" and he stepped forward and lifted his axe.
I wrung my hands over this absurd piece of Quixotism; but if he was
determined on this deed, of course I could not stop him.
"Fight not, my white brother," said Ignosi, laying his hand
affectionately on Sir Henry's arm; "thou hast fought enough, and if
aught befell thee at his hands it would cut my heart in twain."
"I will fight, Ignosi," was Sir Henry's answer.
"It is well, Incubu; thou art a brave man. It will be a good fray.
Behold, Twala, the Elephant is ready for thee."
The ex-king laughed savagely, and stepping forward faced Curtis. For a
moment they stood thus, and the light of the sinking sun caught their
stalwart frames and clothed them both in fire. They were a well-matched
pair.
Then they began to circle round each other, their battle-axes raised.
Suddenly Sir Henry sprang forward and struck a fearful blow at Twala,
who stepped to one side. So heavy was the stroke that the striker half
overbalanced himself, a circumstance of which his antagonist took a
prompt advantage. Circling his massive battle-axe round his head, he
brought it down with tremendous force. My heart jumped into my mouth; I
thought that the affair was already finished. But no; with a quick
upward movement of the left arm Sir Henry interposed his shield between
himself and the axe, with the result that its outer edge was shorn
away, the axe falling on his left shoulder, but not heavily enough to
do any serious damage. In another moment Sir Henry got in a second
blow, which was also received by Twala upon his shield.
Then followed blow upon blow, that were, in turn, either received upon
the shields or avoided. The excitement grew intense; the regiment which
was watching the encounter forgot its discipline, and, drawing near,
shouted and groaned at every stroke. Just at this time, too, Good, who
had been laid upon the ground by me, recovered from his faint, and,
sitting up, perceived what was going on. In an instant he was up, and
catching hold of my arm, hopped about from place to place on one leg,
dragging me after him, and yelling encouragements to Sir Henry—
"Go it, old fellow!" he hallooed. "That was a good one! Give it him
amidships," and so on.
Presently Sir Henry, having caught a fresh stroke upon his shield, hit
out with all his force. The blow cut through Twala's shield and through
the tough chain armour behind it, gashing him in the shoulder. With a
yell of pain and fury Twala returned the blow with interest, and, such
was his strength, shore right through the rhinoceros' horn handle of
his antagonists battle-axe, strengthened as it was with bands of steel,
wounding Curtis in the face.
A cry of dismay rose from the Buffaloes as our hero's broad axe-head
fell to the ground; and Twala, again raising his weapon, flew at him
with a shout. I shut my eyes. When I opened them again it was to see
Sir Henry's shield lying on the ground, and Sir Henry himself with his
great arms twined round Twala's middle. To and fro they swung, hugging
each other like bears, straining with all their mighty muscles for dear
life, and dearer honour. With a supreme effort Twala swung the
Englishman clean off his feet, and down they came together, rolling
over and over on the lime paving, Twala striking out at Curtis' head
with the battle-axe, and Sir Henry trying to drive the _tolla_ he had
drawn from his belt through Twala's armour.
It was a mighty struggle, and an awful thing to see.
"Get his axe!" yelled Good; and perhaps our champion heard him.
At any rate, dropping the _tolla_, he snatched at the axe, which was
fastened to Twala's wrist by a strip of buffalo hide, and still rolling
over and over, they fought for it like wild cats, drawing their breath
in heavy gasps. Suddenly the hide string burst, and then, with a great
effort, Sir Henry freed himself, the weapon remaining in his hand.
Another second and he was upon his feet, the red blood streaming from
the wound in his face, and so was Twala. Drawing the heavy _tolla_ from
his belt, he reeled straight at Curtis and struck him in the breast.
The stab came home true and strong, but whoever it was who made that
chain armour, he understood his art, for it withstood the steel. Again
Twala struck out with a savage yell, and again the sharp knife
rebounded, and Sir Henry went staggering back. Once more Twala came on,
and as he came our great Englishman gathered himself together, and
swinging the big axe round his head with both hands, hit at him with
all his force.
There was a shriek of excitement from a thousand throats, and, behold!
Twala's head seemed to spring from his shoulders: then it fell and came
rolling and bounding along the ground towards Ignosi, stopping just at
his feet. For a second the corpse stood upright; then with a dull crash
it came to the earth, and the gold torque from its neck rolled away
across the pavement. As it did so Sir Henry, overpowered by faintness
and loss of blood, fell heavily across the body of the dead king.
In a second he was lifted up, and eager hands were pouring water on his
face. Another minute, and the grey eyes opened wide.
He was not dead.
Then I, just as the sun sank, stepping to where Twala's head lay in the
dust, unloosed the diamond from the dead brows, and handed it to Ignosi.
"Take it," I said, "lawful king of the Kukuanas—king by birth and
victory."
Ignosi bound the diadem upon his brows. Then advancing, he placed his
foot upon the broad chest of his headless foe and broke out into a
chant, or rather a pæan of triumph, so beautiful, and yet so utterly
savage, that I despair of being able to give an adequate version of his
words. Once I heard a scholar with a fine voice read aloud from the
Greek poet Homer, and I remember that the sound of the rolling lines
seemed to make my blood stand still. Ignosi's chant, uttered as it was
in a language as beautiful and sonorous as the old Greek, produced
exactly the same effect on me, although I was exhausted with toil and
many emotions.
"Now," he began, "now our rebellion is swallowed up in victory, and our
evil-doing is justified by strength.
"In the morning the oppressors arose and stretched themselves; they
bound on their harness and made them ready to war.
"They rose up and tossed their spears: the soldiers called to the
captains, 'Come, lead us'—and the captains cried to the king, 'Direct
thou the battle.'
"They laughed in their pride, twenty thousand men, and yet a twenty
thousand.
"Their plumes covered the valleys as the plumes of a bird cover her
nest; they shook their shields and shouted, yea, they shook their
shields in the sunlight; they lusted for battle and were glad.
"They came up against me; their strong ones ran swiftly to slay me;
they cried, 'Ha! ha! he is as one already dead.'
"Then breathed I on them, and my breath was as the breath of a wind,
and lo! they were not.
"My lightnings pierced them; I licked up their strength with the
lightning of my spears; I shook them to the ground with the thunder of
my shoutings.
"They broke—they scattered—they were gone as the mists of the morning.
"They are food for the kites and the foxes, and the place of battle is
fat with their blood.
"Where are the mighty ones who rose up in the morning?
"Where are the proud ones who tossed their spears and cried, 'He is as
a man already dead'?
"They bow their heads, but not in sleep; they are stretched out, but
not in sleep.
"They are forgotten; they have gone into the blackness; they dwell in
the dead moons; yea, others shall lead away their wives, and their
children shall remember them no more.
"And I—! the king—like an eagle I have found my eyrie.
"Behold! far have I flown in the night season, yet have I returned to
my young at the daybreak.
"Shelter ye under the shadow of my wings, O people, and I will comfort
you, and ye shall not be dismayed.
"Now is the good time, the time of spoil.
"Mine are the cattle on the mountains, mine are the virgins in the
kraals.
"The winter is overpast with storms, the summer is come with flowers.
"Now Evil shall cover up her face, now Mercy and Gladness shall dwell
in the land.
"Rejoice, rejoice, my people!
"Let all the stars rejoice in that this tyranny is trodden down, in
that I am the king."
Ignosi ceased his song, and out of the gathering gloom came back the
deep reply—
"_Thou art the king!_"
Thus was my prophecy to the herald fulfilled, and within the
forty-eight hours Twala's headless corpse was stiffening at Twala's
gate.
[1] It is a law amongst the Kukuanas that no man of the direct royal
blood can be put to death, unless by his own consent, which is,
however, never refused. He is allowed to choose a succession of
antagonists, to be approved by the king, with whom he fights, till one
of them kills him.—A.Q.
CHAPTER XV
GOOD FALLS SICK
After the fight was ended, Sir Henry and Good were carried into Twala's
hut, where I joined them. They were both utterly exhausted by exertion
and loss of blood, and, indeed, my own condition was little better. I
am very wiry, and can stand more fatigue than most men, probably on
account of my light weight and long training; but that night I was
quite done up, and, as is always the case with me when exhausted, that
old wound which the lion gave me began to pain. Also my head was aching
violently from the blow I had received in the morning, when I was
knocked senseless. Altogether, a more miserable trio than we were that
evening it would have been difficult to discover; and our only comfort
lay in the reflection that we were exceedingly fortunate to be there to
feel miserable, instead of being stretched dead upon the plain, as so
many thousands of brave men were that night, who had risen well and
strong in the morning.
Somehow, with the assistance of the beautiful Foulata, who, since we
had been the means of saving her life, had constituted herself our
handmaiden, and especially Good's, we managed to get off the chain
shirts, which had certainly saved the lives of two of us that day. As I
expected, we found that the flesh underneath was terribly contused, for
though the steel links had kept the weapons from entering, they had not
prevented them from bruising. Both Sir Henry and Good were a mass of
contusions, and I was by no means free. As a remedy Foulata brought us
some pounded green leaves, with an aromatic odour, which, when applied
as a plaster, gave us considerable relief.
But though the bruises were painful, they did not give us such anxiety
as Sir Henry's and Good's wounds. Good had a hole right through the
fleshy part of his "beautiful white leg," from which he had lost a
great deal of blood; and Sir Henry, with other hurts, had a deep cut
over the jaw, inflicted by Twala's battle-axe. Luckily Good is a very
decent surgeon, and so soon as his small box of medicines was
forthcoming, having thoroughly cleansed the wounds, he managed to
stitch up first Sir Henry's and then his own pretty satisfactorily,
considering the imperfect light given by the primitive Kukuana lamp in
the hut. Afterwards he plentifully smeared the injured places with some
antiseptic ointment, of which there was a pot in the little box, and we
covered them with the remains of a pocket-handkerchief which we
possessed.
Meanwhile Foulata had prepared us some strong broth, for we were too
weary to eat. This we swallowed, and then threw ourselves down on the
piles of magnificent karrosses, or fur rugs, which were scattered about
the dead king's great hut. By a very strange instance of the irony of
fate, it was on Twala's own couch, and wrapped in Twala's own
particular karross, that Sir Henry, the man who had slain him, slept
that night.
I say slept; but after that day's work, sleep was indeed difficult. To
begin with, in very truth the air was full
"Of farewells to the dying And mournings for the dead."
From every direction came the sound of the wailing of women whose
husbands, sons, and brothers had perished in the battle. No wonder that
they wailed, for over twelve thousand men, or nearly a fifth of the
Kukuana army, had been destroyed in that awful struggle. It was
heart-rending to lie and listen to their cries for those who never
would return; and it made me understand the full horror of the work
done that day to further man's ambition. Towards midnight, however, the
ceaseless crying of the women grew less frequent, till at length the
silence was only broken at intervals of a few minutes by a long
piercing howl that came from a hut in our immediate rear, which, as I
afterwards discovered, proceeded from Gagool "keening" over the dead
king Twala.
After that I got a little fitful sleep, only to wake from time to time
with a start, thinking that I was once more an actor in the terrible
events of the last twenty-four hours. Now I seemed to see that warrior
whom my hand had sent to his last account charging at me on the
mountain-top; now I was once more in that glorious ring of Greys, which
made its immortal stand against all Twala's regiments upon the little
mound; and now again I saw Twala's plumed and gory head roll past my
feet with gnashing teeth and glaring eye.
At last, somehow or other, the night passed away; but when dawn broke I
found that my companions had slept no better than myself. Good, indeed,
was in a high fever, and very soon afterwards began to grow
light-headed, and also, to my alarm, to spit blood, the result, no
doubt, of some internal injury, inflicted during the desperate efforts
made by the Kukuana warrior on the previous day to force his big spear
through the chain armour. Sir Henry, however, seemed pretty fresh,
notwithstanding his wound on the face, which made eating difficult and
laughter an impossibility, though he was so sore and stiff that he
could scarcely stir.
About eight o'clock we had a visit from Infadoos, who appeared but
little the worse—tough old warrior that he was—for his exertions in
the battle, although he informed us that he had been up all night. He
was delighted to see us, but much grieved at Good's condition, and
shook our hands cordially. I noticed, however, that he addressed Sir
Henry with a kind of reverence, as though he were something more than
man; and, indeed, as we afterwards found out, the great Englishman was
looked on throughout Kukuanaland as a supernatural being. No man, the
soldiers said, could have fought as he fought or, at the end of a day
of such toil and bloodshed, could have slain Twala, who, in addition to
being the king, was supposed to be the strongest warrior in the
country, in single combat, shearing through his bull-neck at a stroke.
Indeed, that stroke became proverbial in Kukuanaland, and any
extraordinary blow or feat of strength was henceforth known as
"Incubu's blow."
Infadoos told us also that all Twala's regiments had submitted to
Ignosi, and that like submissions were beginning to arrive from chiefs
in the outlying country. Twala's death at the hands of Sir Henry had
put an end to all further chance of disturbance; for Scragga had been
his only legitimate son, so there was no rival claimant to the throne
left alive.
I remarked that Ignosi had swum to power through blood. The old chief
shrugged his shoulders. "Yes," he answered; "but the Kukuana people can
only be kept cool by letting their blood flow sometimes. Many are
killed, indeed, but the women are left, and others must soon grow up to
take the places of the fallen. After this the land would be quiet for a
while."
Afterwards, in the course of the morning, we had a short visit from
Ignosi, on whose brows the royal diadem was now bound. As I
contemplated him advancing with kingly dignity, an obsequious guard
following his steps, I could not help recalling to my mind the tall
Zulu who had presented himself to us at Durban some few months back,
asking to be taken into our service, and reflecting on the strange
revolutions of the wheel of fortune.
"Hail, O king!" I said, rising.
"Yes, Macumazahn. King at last, by the might of your three right
hands," was the ready answer.
All was, he said, going well; and he hoped to arrange a great feast in
two weeks' time in order to show himself to the people.
I asked him what he had settled to do with Gagool.
"She is the evil genius of the land," he answered, "and I shall kill
her, and all the witch doctors with her! She has lived so long that
none can remember when she was not very old, and she it is who has
always trained the witch-hunters, and made the land wicked in the sight
of the heavens above."
"Yet she knows much," I replied; "it is easier to destroy knowledge,
Ignosi, than to gather it."
"That is so," he said thoughtfully. "She, and she only, knows the
secret of the 'Three Witches,' yonder, whither the great road runs,
where the kings are buried, and the Silent Ones sit."
"Yes, and the diamonds are. Forget not thy promise, Ignosi; thou must
lead us to the mines, even if thou hast to spare Gagool alive to show
the way."
"I will not forget, Macumazahn, and I will think on what thou sayest."
After Ignosi's visit I went to see Good, and found him quite delirious.
The fever set up by his wound seemed to have taken a firm hold of his
system, and to be complicated with an internal injury. For four or five
days his condition was most critical; indeed, I believe firmly that had
it not been for Foulata's indefatigable nursing he must have died.
Women are women, all the world over, whatever their colour. Yet somehow
it seemed curious to watch this dusky beauty bending night and day over
the fevered man's couch, and performing all the merciful errands of a
sick-room swiftly, gently, and with as fine an instinct as that of a
trained hospital nurse. For the first night or two I tried to help her,
and so did Sir Henry as soon as his stiffness allowed him to move, but
Foulata bore our interference with impatience, and finally insisted
upon our leaving him to her, saying that our movements made him
restless, which I think was true. Day and night she watched him and
tended him, giving him his only medicine, a native cooling drink made
of milk, in which was infused juice from the bulb of a species of
tulip, and keeping the flies from settling on him. I can see the whole
picture now as it appeared night after night by the light of our
primitive lamp; Good tossing to and fro, his features emaciated, his
eyes shining large and luminous, and jabbering nonsense by the yard;
and seated on the ground by his side, her back resting against the wall
of the hut, the soft-eyed, shapely Kukuana beauty, her face, weary as
it was with her long vigil, animated by a look of infinite
compassion—or was it something more than compassion?
For two days we thought that he must die, and crept about with heavy
hearts.
Only Foulata would not believe it.
"He will live," she said.
For three hundred yards or more around Twala's chief hut, where the
sufferer lay, there was silence; for by the king's order all who lived
in the habitations behind it, except Sir Henry and myself, had been
removed, lest any noise should come to the sick man's ears. One night,
it was the fifth of Good's illness, as was my habit, I went across to
see how he was doing before turning in for a few hours.
I entered the hut carefully. The lamp placed upon the floor showed the
figure of Good tossing no more, but lying quite still.
So it had come at last! In the bitterness of my heart I gave something
like a sob.
"Hush—h—h!" came from the patch of dark shadow behind Good's head.
Then, creeping closer, I saw that he was not dead, but sleeping
soundly, with Foulata's taper fingers clasped tightly in his poor white
hand. The crisis had passed, and he would live. He slept like that for
eighteen hours; and I scarcely like to say it, for fear I should not be
believed, but during the entire period did this devoted girl sit by
him, fearing that if she moved and drew away her hand it would wake
him. What she must have suffered from cramp and weariness, to say
nothing of want of food, nobody will ever know; but it is the fact
that, when at last he woke, she had to be carried away—her limbs were
so stiff that she could not move them.
After the turn had once been taken, Good's recovery was rapid and
complete. It was not till he was nearly well that Sir Henry told him of
all he owed to Foulata; and when he came to the story of how she sat by
his side for eighteen hours, fearing lest by moving she should wake
him, the honest sailor's eyes filled with tears. He turned and went
straight to the hut where Foulata was preparing the mid-day meal, for
we were back in our old quarters now, taking me with him to interpret
in case he could not make his meaning clear to her, though I am bound
to say that she understood him marvellously as a rule, considering how
extremely limited was his foreign vocabulary.
"Tell her," said Good, "that I owe her my life, and that I will never
forget her kindness to my dying day."
I interpreted, and under her dark skin she actually seemed to blush.
Turning to him with one of those swift and graceful motions that in her
always reminded me of the flight of a wild bird, Foulata answered
softly, glancing at him with her large brown eyes—
"Nay, my lord; my lord forgets! Did he not save _my_ life, and am I not
my lord's handmaiden?"
It will be observed that the young lady appeared entirely to have
forgotten the share which Sir Henry and myself had taken in her
preservation from Twala's clutches. But that is the way of women! I
remember my dear wife was just the same. Well, I retired from that
little interview sad at heart. I did not like Miss Foulata's soft
glances, for I knew the fatal amorous propensities of sailors in
general, and of Good in particular.
There are two things in the world, as I have found out, which cannot be
prevented: you cannot keep a Zulu from fighting, or a sailor from
falling in love upon the slightest provocation!
It was a few days after this last occurrence that Ignosi held his great
"indaba," or council, and was formally recognised as king by the
"indunas," or head men, of Kukuanaland. The spectacle was a most
imposing one, including as it did a grand review of troops. On this day
the remaining fragments of the Greys were formally paraded, and in the
face of the army thanked for their splendid conduct in the battle. To
each man the king made a large present of cattle, promoting them one
and all to the rank of officers in the new corps of Greys which was in
process of formation. An order was also promulgated throughout the
length and breadth of Kukuanaland that, whilst we honoured the country
by our presence, we three were to be greeted with the royal salute, and
to be treated with the same ceremony and respect that was by custom
accorded to the king. Also the power of life and death was publicly
conferred upon us. Ignosi, too, in the presence of his people,
reaffirmed the promises which he had made, to the effect that no man's
blood should be shed without trial, and that witch-hunting should cease
in the land.
When the ceremony was over we waited upon Ignosi, and informed him that
we were now anxious to investigate the mystery of the mines to which
Solomon's Road ran, asking him if he had discovered anything about them.
"My friends," he answered, "I have discovered this. It is there that
the three great figures sit, who here are called the 'Silent Ones,' and
to whom Twala would have offered the girl Foulata as a sacrifice. It is
there, too, in a great cave deep in the mountain, that the kings of the
land are buried; there ye shall find Twala's body, sitting with those
who went before him. There, also, is a deep pit, which, at some time,
long-dead men dug out, mayhap for the stones ye speak of, such as I
have heard men in Natal tell of at Kimberley. There, too, in the Place
of Death is a secret chamber, known to none but the king and Gagool.
But Twala, who knew it, is dead, and I know it not, nor know I what is
in it. Yet there is a legend in the land that once, many generations
gone, a white man crossed the mountains, and was led by a woman to the
secret chamber and shown the wealth hidden in it. But before he could
take it she betrayed him, and he was driven by the king of that day
back to the mountains, and since then no man has entered the place."
"The story is surely true, Ignosi, for on the mountains we found the
white man," I said.
"Yes, we found him. And now I have promised you that if ye can come to
that chamber, and the stones are there—"
"The gem upon thy forehead proves that they are there," I put in,
pointing to the great diamond I had taken from Twala's dead brows.
"Mayhap; if they are there," he said, "ye shall have as many as ye can
take hence—if indeed ye would leave me, my brothers."
"First we must find the chamber," said I.
"There is but one who can show it to thee—Gagool."
"And if she will not?"
"Then she must die," said Ignosi sternly. "I have saved her alive but
for this. Stay, she shall choose," and calling to a messenger he
ordered Gagool to be brought before him.
In a few minutes she came, hurried along by two guards, whom she was
cursing as she walked.
"Leave her," said the king to the guards.
So soon as their support was withdrawn, the withered old bundle—for
she looked more like a bundle than anything else, out of which her two
bright and wicked eyes gleamed like those of a snake—sank in a heap on
to the floor.
"What will ye with me, Ignosi?" she piped. "Ye dare not touch me. If ye
touch me I will slay you as ye sit. Beware of my magic."
"Thy magic could not save Twala, old she-wolf, and it cannot hurt me,"
was the answer. "Listen; I will this of thee, that thou reveal to us
the chamber where are the shining stones."
"Ha! ha!" she piped, "none know its secret but I, and I will never tell
thee. The white devils shall go hence empty-handed."
"Thou shalt tell me. I will make thee tell me."
"How, O king? Thou art great, but can thy power wring the truth from a
woman?"
"It is difficult, yet will I do so."
"How, O king?"
"Nay, thus; if thou tellest not thou shalt slowly die."
"Die!" she shrieked in terror and fury; "ye dare not touch me—man, ye
know not who I am. How old think ye am I? I knew your fathers, and your
fathers' fathers' fathers. When the country was young I was here; when
the country grows old I shall still be here. I cannot die unless I be
killed by chance, for none dare slay me."
"Yet will I slay thee. See, Gagool, mother of evil, thou art so old
that thou canst no longer love thy life. What can life be to such a hag
as thou, who hast no shape, nor form, nor hair, nor teeth—hast naught,
save wickedness and evil eyes? It will be mercy to make an end of thee,
Gagool."
"Thou fool," shrieked the old fiend, "thou accursed fool, deemest thou
that life is sweet only to the young? It is not so, and naught thou
knowest of the heart of man to think it. To the young, indeed, death is
sometimes welcome, for the young can feel. They love and suffer, and it
wrings them to see their beloved pass to the land of shadows. But the
old feel not, they love not, and, _ha! ha!_ they laugh to see another
go out into the dark; _ha! ha!_ they laugh to see the evil that is done
under the stars. All they love is life, the warm, warm sun, and the
sweet, sweet air. They are afraid of the cold, afraid of the cold and
the dark, _ha! ha! ha!_" and the old hag writhed in ghastly merriment
on the ground.
"Cease thine evil talk and answer me," said Ignosi angrily. "Wilt thou
show the place where the stones are, or wilt thou not? If thou wilt not
thou diest, even now," and he seized a spear and held it over her.
"I will not show it; thou darest not kill me, darest not! He who slays
me will be accursed for ever."
Slowly Ignosi brought down the spear till it pricked the prostrate heap
of rags.
With a wild yell Gagool sprang to her feet, then fell again and rolled
upon the floor.
"Nay, I will show thee. Only let me live, let me sit in the sun and
have a bit of meat to suck, and I will show thee."
"It is well. I thought that I should find a way to reason with thee.
To-morrow shalt thou go with Infadoos and my white brothers to the
place, and beware how thou failest, for if thou showest it not, then
thou shalt slowly die. I have spoken."
"I will not fail, Ignosi. I always keep my word—_ha! ha! ha!_ Once
before a woman showed the chamber to a white man, and behold! evil
befell him," and here her wicked eyes glinted. "Her name was Gagool
also. Perchance I was that woman."
"Thou liest," I said, "that was ten generations gone."
"Mayhap, mayhap; when one lives long one forgets. Perhaps it was my
mother's mother who told me; surely her name was Gagool also. But mark,
ye will find in the place where the bright things are a bag of hide
full of stones. The man filled that bag, but he never took it away.
Evil befell him, I say, evil befell him! Perhaps it was my mother's
mother who told me. It will be a merry journey—we can see the bodies
of those who died in the battle as we go. Their eyes will be gone by
now, and their ribs will be hollow. _Ha! ha! ha!_"
CHAPTER XVI
THE PLACE OF DEATH
It was already dark on the third day after the scene described in the
previous chapter when we camped in some huts at the foot of the "Three
Witches," as the triangle of mountains is called to which Solomon's
Great Road runs. Our party consisted of our three selves and Foulata,
who waited on us—especially on Good—Infadoos, Gagool, who was borne
along in a litter, inside which she could be heard muttering and
cursing all day long, and a party of guards and attendants. The
mountains, or rather the three peaks of the mountain, for the mass was
evidently the result of a solitary upheaval, were, as I have said, in
the form of a triangle, of which the base was towards us, one peak
being on our right, one on our left, and one straight in front of us.
Never shall I forget the sight afforded by those three towering peaks
in the early sunlight of the following morning. High, high above us, up
into the blue air, soared their twisted snow-wreaths. Beneath the
snow-line the peaks were purple with heaths, and so were the wild moors
that ran up the slopes towards them. Straight before us the white
ribbon of Solomon's Great Road stretched away uphill to the foot of the
centre peak, about five miles from us, and there stopped. It was its
terminus.
I had better leave the feelings of intense excitement with which we set
out on our march that morning to the imagination of those who read this
history. At last we were drawing near to the wonderful mines that had
been the cause of the miserable death of the old Portuguese Dom three
centuries ago, of my poor friend, his ill-starred descendant, and also,
as we feared, of George Curtis, Sir Henry's brother. Were we destined,
after all that we had gone through, to fare any better? Evil befell
them, as that old fiend Gagool said; would it also befall us? Somehow,
as we were marching up that last stretch of beautiful road, I could not
help feeling a little superstitious about the matter, and so I think
did Good and Sir Henry.
For an hour and a half or more we tramped on up the heather-fringed
way, going so fast in our excitement that the bearers of Gagool's
hammock could scarcely keep pace with us, and its occupant piped out to
us to stop.
"Walk more slowly, white men," she said, projecting her hideous
shrivelled countenance between the grass curtains, and fixing her
gleaming eyes upon us; "why will ye run to meet the evil that shall
befall you, ye seekers after treasure?" and she laughed that horrible
laugh which always sent a cold shiver down my back, and for a while
quite took the enthusiasm out of us.
However, on we went, till we saw before us, and between ourselves and
the peak, a vast circular hole with sloping sides, three hundred feet
or more in depth, and quite half a mile round.
"Can't you guess what this is?" I said to Sir Henry and Good, who were
staring in astonishment at the awful pit before us.
They shook their heads.
"Then it is clear that you have never seen the diamond diggings at
Kimberley. You may depend on it that this is Solomon's Diamond Mine.
Look there," I said, pointing to the strata of stiff blue clay which
were yet to be seen among the grass and bushes that clothed the sides
of the pit, "the formation is the same. I'll be bound that if we went
down there we should find 'pipes' of soapy brecciated rock. Look, too,"
and I pointed to a series of worn flat slabs of stone that were placed
on a gentle slope below the level of a watercourse which in some past
age had been cut out of the solid rock; "if those are not tables once
used to wash the 'stuff,' I'm a Dutchman."
At the edge of this vast hole, which was none other than the pit marked
on the old Dom's map, the Great Road branched into two and circumvented
it. In many places, by the way, this surrounding road was built
entirely out of blocks of stone, apparently with the object of
supporting the edges of the pit and preventing falls of reef. Along
this path we pressed, driven by curiosity to see what were the three
towering objects which we could discern from the hither side of the
great gulf. As we drew near we perceived that they were Colossi of some
sort or another, and rightly conjectured that before us sat the three
"Silent Ones" that are held in such awe by the Kukuana people. But it
was not until we were quite close to them that we recognised the full
majesty of these "Silent Ones."
There, upon huge pedestals of dark rock, sculptured with rude emblems
of the *** worship, separated from each other by a distance of
forty paces, and looking down the road which crossed some sixty miles
of plain to Loo, were three colossal seated forms—two male and one
female—each measuring about thirty feet from the crown of its head to
the pedestal.
The female form, which was nude, was of great though severe beauty, but
unfortunately the features had been injured by centuries of exposure to
the weather. Rising from either side of her head were the points of a
crescent. The two male Colossi, on the contrary, were draped, and
presented a terrifying cast of features, especially the one to our
right, which had the face of a devil. That to our left was serene in
countenance, but the calm upon it seemed dreadful. It was the calm of
that inhuman cruelty, Sir Henry remarked, which the ancients attributed
to beings potent for good, who could yet watch the sufferings of
humanity, if not without rejoicing, at least without sorrow. These
three statues form a most awe-inspiring trinity, as they sit there in
their solitude, and gaze out across the plain for ever.
Contemplating these "Silent Ones," as the Kukuanas call them, an
intense curiosity again seized us to know whose were the hands which
had shaped them, who it was that had dug the pit and made the road.
Whilst I was gazing and wondering, suddenly it occurred to me—being
familiar with the Old Testament—that Solomon went astray after strange
gods, the names of three of whom I remembered—"Ashtoreth, the goddess
of the Zidonians, Chemosh, the god of the Moabites, and Milcom, the god
of the children of Ammon"—and I suggested to my companions that the
figures before us might represent these false and exploded divinities.
"Hum," said Sir Henry, who is a scholar, having taken a high degree in
classics at college, "there may be something in that; Ashtoreth of the
Hebrews was the Astarte of the Phoenicians, who were the great traders
of Solomon's time. Astarte, who afterwards became the Aphrodite of the
Greeks, was represented with horns like the half-moon, and there on the
brow of the female figure are distinct horns. Perhaps these Colossi
were designed by some Phoenician official who managed the mines. Who
can say?"[1]
Before we had finished examining these extraordinary relics of remote
antiquity, Infadoos came up, and having saluted the "Silent Ones" by
lifting his spear, asked us if we intended entering the "Place of
Death" at once, or if we would wait till after we had taken food at
mid-day. If we were ready to go at once, Gagool had announced her
willingness to guide us. As it was not later than eleven
o'clock—driven to it by a burning curiosity—we announced our
intention of proceeding instantly, and I suggested that, in case we
should be detained in the cave, we should take some food with us.
Accordingly Gagool's litter was brought up, and that lady herself
assisted out of it. Meanwhile Foulata, at my request, stored some
"biltong," or dried game-flesh, together with a couple of gourds of
water, in a reed basket with a hinged cover. Straight in front of us,
at a distance of some fifty paces from the backs of the Colossi, rose a
sheer wall of rock, eighty feet or more in height, that gradually
sloped upwards till it formed the base of the lofty snow-wreathed peak,
which soared into the air three thousand feet above us. As soon as she
was clear of her hammock, Gagool cast one evil grin upon us, and then,
leaning on a stick, hobbled off towards the face of this wall. We
followed her till we came to a narrow portal solidly arched that looked
like the opening of a gallery of a mine.
Here Gagool was waiting for us, still with that evil grin upon her
horrid face.
"Now, white men from the Stars," she piped; "great warriors, Incubu,
Bougwan, and Macumazahn the wise, are ye ready? Behold, I am here to do
the bidding of my lord the king, and to show you the store of bright
stones. _Ha! ha! ha!_"
"We are ready," I said.
"Good, good! Make strong your hearts to bear what ye shall see. Comest
thou too, Infadoos, thou who didst betray thy master?"
Infadoos frowned as he answered—
"Nay, I come not; it is not for me to enter there. But thou, Gagool,
curb thy tongue, and beware how thou dealest with my lords. At thy
hands will I require them, and if a hair of them be hurt, Gagool, be'st
thou fifty times a witch, thou shalt die. Hearest thou?"
"I hear Infadoos; I know thee, thou didst ever love big words; when
thou wast a babe I remember thou didst threaten thine own mother. That
was but the other day. But, fear not, fear not, I live only to do the
bidding of the king. I have done the bidding of many kings, Infadoos,
till in the end they did mine. _Ha! ha!_ I go to look upon their faces
once more, and Twala's also! Come on, come on, here is the lamp," and
she drew a large gourd full of oil, and fitted with a rush wick, from
under her fur cloak.
"Art thou coming, Foulata?" asked Good in his villainous Kitchen
Kukuana, in which he had been improving himself under that young lady's
tuition.
"I fear, my lord," the girl answered timidly.
"Then give me the basket."
"Nay, my lord, whither thou goest there I go also."
"The deuce you will!" thought I to myself; "that may be rather awkward
if we ever get out of this."
Without further ado Gagool plunged into the passage, which was wide
enough to admit of two walking abreast, and quite dark. We followed the
sound of her voice as she piped to us to come on, in some fear and
trembling, which was not allayed by the flutter of a sudden rush of
wings.
"Hullo! what's that?" halloed Good; "somebody hit me in the face."
"Bats," said I; "on you go."
When, so far as we could judge, we had gone some fifty paces, we
perceived that the passage was growing faintly light. Another minute,
and we were in perhaps the most wonderful place that the eyes of living
man have beheld.
Let the reader picture to himself the hall of the vastest cathedral he
ever stood in, windowless indeed, but dimly lighted from above,
presumably by shafts connected with the outer air and driven in the
roof, which arched away a hundred feet above our heads, and he will get
some idea of the size of the enormous cave in which we found ourselves,
with the difference that this cathedral designed by nature was loftier
and wider than any built by man. But its stupendous size was the least
of the wonders of the place, for running in rows adown its length were
gigantic pillars of what looked like ice, but were, in reality, huge
stalactites. It is impossible for me to convey any idea of the
overpowering beauty and grandeur of these pillars of white spar, some
of which were not less than twenty feet in diameter at the base, and
sprang up in lofty and yet delicate beauty sheer to the distant roof.
Others again were in process of formation. On the rock floor there was
in these cases what looked, Sir Henry said, exactly like a broken
column in an old Grecian temple, whilst high above, depending from the
roof, the point of a huge icicle could be dimly seen.
Even as we gazed we could hear the process going on, for presently with
a tiny splash a drop of water would fall from the far-off icicle on to
the column below. On some columns the drops only fell once in two or
three minutes, and in these cases it would be an interesting
calculation to discover how long, at that rate of dripping, it would
take to form a pillar, say eighty feet by ten in diameter. That the
process, in at least one instance, was incalculably slow, the following
example will suffice to show. Cut on one of these pillars we discovered
the crude likeness of a mummy, by the head of which sat what appeared
to be the figure of an Egyptian god, doubtless the handiwork of some
old-world labourer in the mine. This work of art was executed at the
natural height at which an idle fellow, be he Phoenician workman or
British cad, is in the habit of trying to immortalise himself at the
expense of nature's masterpieces, namely, about five feet from the
ground. Yet at the time that we saw it, which _must_ have been nearly
three thousand years after the date of the execution of the carving,
the column was only eight feet high, and was still in process of
formation, which gives a rate of growth of a foot to a thousand years,
or an inch and a fraction to a century. This we knew because, as we
were standing by it, we heard a drop of water fall.
Sometimes the stalagmites took strange forms, presumably where the
dropping of the water had not always been on the same spot. Thus, one
huge mass, which must have weighed a hundred tons or so, was in the
shape of a pulpit, beautifully fretted over outside with a design that
looked like lace. Others resembled strange beasts, and on the sides of
the cave were fanlike ivory tracings, such as the frost leaves upon a
pane.
Out of the vast main aisle there opened here and there smaller caves,
exactly, Sir Henry said, as chapels open out of great cathedrals. Some
were large, but one or two—and this is a wonderful instance of how
nature carries out her handiwork by the same unvarying laws, utterly
irrespective of size—were tiny. One little nook, for instance, was no
larger than an unusually big doll's house, and yet it might have been a
model for the whole place, for the water dropped, tiny icicles hung,
and spar columns were forming in just the same way.
We had not, however, enough time to examine this beautiful cavern so
thoroughly as we should have liked to do, since unfortunately, Gagool
seemed to be indifferent as to stalactites, and only anxious to get her
business over. This annoyed me the more, as I was particularly anxious
to discover, if possible, by what system the light was admitted into
the cave, and whether it was by the hand of man or by that of nature
that this was done; also if the place had been used in any way in
ancient times, as seemed probable. However, we consoled ourselves with
the idea that we would investigate it thoroughly on our way back, and
followed on at the heels of our uncanny guide.
On she led us, straight to the top of the vast and silent cave, where
we found another doorway, not arched as the first was, but square at
the top, something like the doorways of Egyptian temples.
"Are ye prepared to enter the Place of Death, white men?" asked Gagool,
evidently with a view to making us feel uncomfortable.
"Lead on, Macduff," said Good solemnly, trying to look as though he was
not at all alarmed, as indeed we all did except Foulata, who caught
Good by the arm for protection.
"This is getting rather ghastly," said Sir Henry, peeping into the dark
passageway. "Come on, Quatermain—_seniores priores_. We mustn't keep
the old lady waiting!" and he politely made way for me to lead the van,
for which inwardly I did not bless him.
_Tap, tap,_ went old Gagool's stick down the passage, as she trotted
along, chuckling hideously; and still overcome by some unaccountable
presentiment of evil, I hung back.
"Come, get on, old fellow," said Good, "or we shall lose our fair
guide."
Thus adjured, I started down the passage, and after about twenty paces
found myself in a gloomy apartment some forty feet long, by thirty
broad, and thirty high, which in some past age evidently had been
hollowed, by hand-labour, out of the mountain. This apartment was not
nearly so well lighted as the vast stalactite ante-cave, and at the
first glance all I could discern was a massive stone table running down
its length, with a colossal white figure at its head, and life-sized
white figures all round it. Next I discovered a brown thing, seated on
the table in the centre, and in another moment my eyes grew accustomed
to the light, and I saw what all these things were, and was tailing out
of the place as hard as my legs could carry me.
I am not a nervous man in a general way, and very little troubled with
superstitions, of which I have lived to see the folly; but I am free to
own that this sight quite upset me, and had it not been that Sir Henry
caught me by the collar and held me, I do honestly believe that in
another five minutes I should have been outside the stalactite cave,
and that a promise of all the diamonds in Kimberley would not have
induced me to enter it again. But he held me tight, so I stopped
because I could not help myself. Next second, however, _his_ eyes
became accustomed to the light, and he let go of me, and began to mop
the perspiration off his forehead. As for Good, he swore feebly, while
Foulata threw her arms round his neck and shrieked.
Only Gagool chuckled loud and long.
It _was_ a ghastly sight. There at the end of the long stone table,
holding in his skeleton fingers a great white spear, sat _Death_
himself, shaped in the form of a colossal human skeleton, fifteen feet
or more in height. High above his head he held the spear, as though in
the act to strike; one bony hand rested on the stone table before him,
in the position a man assumes on rising from his seat, whilst his frame
was bent forward so that the vertebræ of the neck and the grinning,
gleaming skull projected towards us, and fixed its hollow eye-places
upon us, the jaws a little open, as though it were about to speak.
"Great heavens!" said I faintly, at last, "what can it be?"
"And what are _those things_?" asked Good, pointing to the white
company round the table.
"And what on earth is _that thing_?" said Sir Henry, pointing to the
brown creature seated on the table.
"_Hee! hee! hee!_" laughed Gagool. "To those who enter the Hall of the
Dead, evil comes. _Hee! hee! hee! ha! ha!_"
"Come, Incubu, brave in battle, come and see him thou slewest;" and the
old creature caught Curtis' coat in her skinny fingers, and led him
away towards the table. We followed.
Presently she stopped and pointed at the brown object seated on the
table. Sir Henry looked, and started back with an exclamation; and no
wonder, for there, quite naked, the head which Curtis' battle-axe had
shorn from the body resting on its knees, was the gaunt corpse of
Twala, the last king of the Kukuanas. Yes, there, the head perched upon
the knees, it sat in all its ugliness, the vertebræ projecting a full
inch above the level of the shrunken flesh of the neck, for all the
world like a black double of Hamilton Tighe.[2] Over the surface of the
corpse there was gathered a thin glassy film, that made its appearance
yet more appalling, for which we were, at the moment, quite unable to
account, till presently we observed that from the roof of the chamber
the water fell steadily, _drip! drop! drip!_ on to the neck of the
corpse, whence it ran down over the entire surface, and finally escaped
into the rock through a tiny hole in the table. Then I guessed what the
film was—_Twala's body was being transformed into a stalactite._
A look at the white forms seated on the stone bench which ran round
that ghastly board confirmed this view. They were human bodies indeed,
or rather they had been human; now they were _stalactites_. This was
the way in which the Kukuana people had from time immemorial preserved
their royal dead. They petrified them. What the exact system might be,
if there was any, beyond the placing of them for a long period of years
under the drip, I never discovered, but there they sat, iced over and
preserved for ever by the siliceous fluid.
Anything more awe-inspiring than the spectacle of this long line of
departed royalties (there were twenty-seven of them, the last being
Ignosi's father), wrapped, each of them, in a shroud of ice-like spar,
through which the features could be dimly discovered, and seated round
that inhospitable board, with Death himself for a host, it is
impossible to imagine. That the practice of thus preserving their kings
must have been an ancient one is evident from the number, which,
allowing for an average reign of fifteen years, supposing that every
king who reigned was placed here—an improbable thing, as some are sure
to have perished in battle far from home—would fix the date of its
commencement at four and a quarter centuries back.
But the colossal Death, who sits at the head of the board, is far older
than that, and, unless I am much mistaken, owes his origin to the same
artist who designed the three Colossi. He is hewn out of a single
stalactite, and, looked at as a work of art, is most admirably
conceived and executed. Good, who understands such things, declared
that, so far as he could see, the anatomical design of the skeleton is
perfect down to the smallest bones.
My own idea is, that this terrific object was a freak of fancy on the
part of some old-world sculptor, and that its presence had suggested to
the Kukuanas the idea of placing their royal dead under its awful
presidency. Or perhaps it was set there to frighten away any marauders
who might have designs upon the treasure chamber beyond. I cannot say.
All I can do is to describe it as it is, and the reader must form his
own conclusion.
Such, at any rate, was the White Death and such were the White Dead!
End of Chapter XVI �