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Title:      The Treasure Of The Lake (1926)
Author:     H. Rider Haggard
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A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook

Title:      The Treasure Of The Lake (1926)
Author:     H. Rider Haggard





CONTENTS


PREFACE

I.  KANEKE'S TALE

II.  ALLAN'S BUSINESS INSTINCTS

III.  THE TRIAL OF KANEKE

IV.  WHITE-MOUSE

V.  THE RESCUE

VI.  KANEKE'S FRIENDS

VII.  THE JOURNEY

VIII.  THE ELEPHANT DANCE

IX.  EXPLANATIONS

X.  THE WANDERER

XI.  ARKLE'S STORY

XII.  KANEKE SWEARS AN OATH

XIII.  BEFORE THE ALTAR

XIV.  SHADOW

XV.  LAKE MONE AND THE FOREST

XVI.  KANEKE'S MESSAGE

XVII.  THE GREAT STORM

XVIII.  ALLAN RUNS AWAY

XIX.  THE BRIDAL AND THE CURSE

XX.  FAREWELL



PREFACE


By Allan Quatermain


I cannot remember that anywhere in this book I have stated what it
was that first gave me the idea of attempting to visit Mone, the
Holy Lake, and the Dabanda who live upon, or, to be precise, at
some distance from its shores.  Therefore I will do so now.

There is a certain monastery in Natal where I have been made
welcome from time to time, among whose brethren was a very learned
monk, now "gone down", as the Zulus say, who, although our faiths
were different, honoured me with his confidence upon many matters,
and I think I may add with his friendship.  Brother Ambrose, as he
was called in religion--what his real name may have been I do not
know--a Swede by birth, would have been an archaeologist, also an
anthropologist pure and simple, had he not chanced to be a saint.
As it was he managed to combine much knowledge of these sciences
with his noted and singular holiness.  For example, he was the
greatest authority upon Bushmen's paintings that I have ever met,
and knew more of the history, religions, customs, and habits of the
inhabitants of Southern, Eastern, and South-central Africa--well,
than I did myself.  Thus it came about, our tastes being so similar
on these and other subjects, that when we could not meet and talk,
often we corresponded.

One of his learned letters, which I still preserve, was written to
me many years ago from Mozambique, whither he had gone upon a
journey connected with the missionary enterprises of his order.
From it, for the sake of accuracy, I will quote some passages.

Brother Ambrose says:

"In this island I have come into touch with a man, a rescued slave
whom it was my privilege to baptize and to attend through his last
illness, during which he made many confidences to me.  Peter, as he
was called because he was received into the Church upon the feast
day of that saint, was a man of unusual appearance.  His general
cast of countenance and physique were Arab, and his native language
was a somewhat archaic dialect of Arabic.  His eyes, however, were
large and round, almost owl-like, indeed--by the way, he had a
singular faculty of seeing in the dark--and his handsome features
were remarkable for a melancholy, which I think must have been
inherited and not due to his experiences of life.

"He told me that he belonged to a small tribe dwelling in the
neighbourhood of mountains called Ruga, far beyond a great lake--I
am not sure what lake--which mountains I gathered are not far
distant from some branch of the Congo River in the remote interior.
The home of his tribe, if I understood him aright, was a large
hollow of land enclosed by cliffs.  In the centre of this hollow
lies a big sheet of water surrounded by forest which, he said, is
considered holy.  When I asked him why it was holy, he replied
because on an island in this water dwelt a priestess who is a
Shadow of God, or of the gods, a beautiful woman with many magical
powers, who utters oracles and bestows blessings on her worshippers
(which, being interpreted, means, I take it, a fetish or rather the
head servant of a fetish credited with the power of making rain and
of averting misfortunes).  About this person he told me many
legends too absurd to record, amongst others that she and her
husband, who is the chief of the tribe--for she has a husband--are
sacrificed at a certain age, when her place is taken by another
'Shadow', who is reputed to be her daughter.

"One other thing he told me which I am sure will interest you very
much; indeed, although I am very busy, I write this letter chiefly
in order to pass on the superstition, or legend, or whatever it may
be, before I forget exactly what he said.  You and I have often
discussed the mysteries of the African forms of taboo.  Well, Peter
described a variety of it that was quite new to me.  He declared
that to his tribe ALL wild game are taboo and may not be killed or
eaten by any member of the tribe, who, it seems, are largely
vegetarians, but supplement this diet with the flesh of goats and
cattle, of which they possess many herds.  Nor is this all, for he
assured me further that his people exercised great power over these
untamed beasts, living with them on the same terms of familiarity
as we do with dogs and horses and other domestic animals.  Thus he
asserted positively that they can send them away to or call them
back from any given spot, and make them do their bidding in various
other fashions, even to the extent of being able to cause them to
attack anyone they choose.

"I tried to extract from him what he believed to be the reason for
this alleged remarkable authority over the wild fauna of his
country, but all I could make out was that the priests taught some
form of the old Pythagorean doctrine of metempsychosis (as you
know, not uncommon in Africa, especially when tyrannical chiefs are
concerned); I mean that the souls of men, particularly of those who
had led evil lives, are reborn in the bodies of beasts, which
beasts are therefore, in a sense, their kin, and on this account
feared and venerated.

"It was extremely curious to hear these pre-Christian delusions
from the mouth of a modern African native, and I wonder very much
if his story has any faint foundation in fact.  Probably not, but,
my dear friend, if ever you get the chance in the course of your
explorations, DO try to find out.  You know that, like you, I hold
that scattered here and there through the vast expanse of Africa
are the remains of peoples who still preserve fragments of ancient
systems and religions, such as the Babylonian star-worship or that
of the gods of old Egypt."


Then the letter goes on to tell of the decease of Peter, before
Brother Ambrose could further pursue his inquiries about a carving
that he had discovered somewhere on the East Coast, which he
thought must have been executed by Bushmen in the remote past;
although there is, or was, no other evidence that they ever lived
so far north.

This incident of the strange story told to Father Ambrose by the
dying native, Peter, remained fixed in my mind, and in the end was
the real cause of the journey described in the following pages.

I should like to take this opportunity to say that on re-reading
this record, which is an expanded version of a diary I kept at the
time, I am not sure that I have succeeded in conveying an adequate
sense of the eeriness that pervaded the Dabanda people and their
country.  No wonder that added to the various humiliations which I
suffered in their land, this unearthly atmosphere, whereof dwellers
in the fetish-ridden districts of Africa have often had experience,
at last got upon my nerves to such an extent that if I had stopped
there much longer I believe I should have gone crazy.

Another thing that I wish to state is that on weighing the
evidence, whatever reasons old Kumpana and others may have given, I
am now convinced that Hans was right and that the real cause which
led them to procure the return of Kaneke to Mone-land, was that
they might execute him in punishment for his crime of sacrilege in
earlier life.  On this I believe they were determined both from
vindictiveness and because, under their iron law, while he lived it
was impossible for the mysterious "Treasure of the Lake" to take
another man to husband, as for their own secret reasons they
desired that she should do.

Lastly, it might be asked why I do not more accurately indicate the
exact geographic position of Mone-land and its holy hidden lake.  I
will face ridicule--especially as I shall never live to feel its
shafts--and make a confession.  Before I left his country, as Arkle
had done in his letter, Kumpana assured me with much quiet emphasis
that if I revealed its exact locality and explained how it could be
reached by any other white man, the results to them, also to myself
and Hans in this or later lives, would be most unpleasant.  I did
not and do not believe him; still, in view of my experience of the
uncanny powers of the Dabanda priests, I thought it wise--well, to
keep on the safe side and on this point to remain a little
indefinite.

Allan Quatermain.




CHAPTER I

KANEKE'S TALE


Now when I grow old it becomes every day more clear to me, Allan
Quatermain, that each of us is a mystery living in the midst of
mysteries, bringing these with us when we are born and taking them
away with us when we die; doubtless into a land of other and yet
deeper mysteries.  At first, while we are quite young, everything
seems very clear and simple.  There is a male individual called
Father and a female called Mother who, between them, have made us a
present to the world, or of the world to us, whichever way you like
to put it, apparently by arrangement with the kingdom of heaven; at
least that is what we are taught.  There are the sun, the moon, and
the stars above us and the solid earth beneath, there are lessons
and dinner and a time to get up and a time to go to bed--in short
there are a multitude of things, all quite obvious and commonplace,
which may be summed up in three words, the established order, in
which, by the decree of Papa and Mamma and the heavens above, we
live and move and have our being.

Then the years go by, the terrible, remorseless years that bear us
as steadily from the cradle to the grave as a creeping glacier
bears a stone.  With every one of them, after the first fifteen or
so when we become adult, or in some instances earlier if we chance
to be what is called "rather unusual", a little piece of the
curtain is rolled up or a little hole is widened in the veil, and
beneath that curtain, or through that enlarging hole, we see the
mysteries moving in the dusk beyond.  So swiftly do they come and
go, and so dark is the background, that we never discern them
clearly.  There, if time is given to us to fix them in our minds,
they appear; for a moment they are seen, then they are gone, to be
succeeded by others even yet more wondrous, or perhaps more awful.

But why go on talking of what is endless and unfathomable?  Amidst
this wondrous multitude of enigmas we poor, purblind, slow-witted
creatures must make our choice of those we wish to study.  Long ago
I made mine, one local and terrestrial, namely the land with which
I have been connected all my life--Africa--and the other universal
and spiritual, namely human nature.  What! some may ask, do you
call human nature spiritual?  The very words belie you.  What is
there spiritual about that which is human?

My friend, I answer, in my opinion, my most humble and fallible
opinion, almost everything.  More and more do I become convinced
that we are nearly all spirit, notwithstanding our gross apparent
bodies with their deeds and longings.  You have seen those coloured
globes that pedlars sell--I mean the floating things tinted to this
hue or that, that are the delight of children.  The children buy
these balls and toss them into the air, where they travel one way
or the other, blown by winds we cannot see, till in the end they
burst and of each there remains nothing but a little shrivelled
skin, a shred of substance, which they are told is made from the
gum of a tree.  Well, to my fancy that expanded skin or shred is a
good symbol of the human body, so large and obvious to the sight,
yet driven here and there by the breath of circumstance and in the
end destroyed.  But what was within it which escapes at last and is
no more seen?  To my mind the gas with which the globe was filled
represents the spirit of man, imprisoned for a while; then to all
appearance lost.

I dare say that the example is faulty; still, I use it because it
conveys something of my idea.  So, good or bad, I let it stand and
pass on to an easier theme, or at any rate one easier to handle,
namely that of the mysteries of the great continent of Africa.

Now all the world is wonderful, but surely among its countries
there is none more so than Africa; no, not even China the
unchanging, or India the ancient.  For this reason, I think: those
great lands have always been more or less known to their own
inhabitants, whereas Africa, as a whole, from the beginning was and
still remains unknown.

To this day great sections of its denizens are quite ignorant of
other sections, as much so as was mighty Egypt of the millions of
the neighbouring peoples in the time when a voyage to the Land of
Punt, which I take to have been the country that we now know as
Uganda, was looked upon as a marvellous adventure.  Again, there is
the instance of Solomon, or rather Hiram and his gold traffic with
Ophir, the dim and undefined, that doubtless was the district lying
at the back of Sofala.  But why multiply such examples, of which
there are many?  And if this is true of Africa, the Libya of the
early world, as a country, is it not still more true of its
inhabitants, divided as these are into countless races, peoples,
and tribes, each of them with its own gods or ancestral spirits,
language, customs, traditions, and mental outlook established in
the passage of innumerable ages?

So far as my small experience goes, for though many might think it
large it is still small, these are my opinions which I venture to
state as an opening to what I have always considered a very curious
history, in which it was my fortune to play some small and humble
part.  For let it be understood at once that I was by no means the
chief actor in this business.  Indeed, I was never more than an
agent, a kind of connecting wire between the parties concerned, an
insignificant bridge over which their feet travelled to certain
ends that I presume to have been appointed by Fate.  Still, I saw
much of the play and now, when the curtain has been long rung down,
by help of the diary I kept at the time and have preserved, I will
try to record such memories of it as remain to me--well, because
rightly or wrongly I think that they are worth recording.



Years ago, accompanied by my servant Hans, the old and faithful
Hottentot with whom I have experienced so many adventures, I made a
great journey to what I may almost call Central Africa, starting in
from the East Coast.  It was a hazardous adventure into which I had
been led by tales that had reached me of the enormous herds of
elephants to be found in what I suppose must now be the north of
the Belgian Congo.  Or perhaps it is still No Man's Land as it was
in those days--really, I do not know.  Nor is this wonderful,
seeing that with a single exception I believe that I was the first
white man to set foot in that particular district which lies beyond
the Lado mountains north of Jissa and of the Denbo River.

To be truthful, however, it was not only the elephants that took me
to these parts, guessing, as I did, that if I found them it might
be of little avail, since probably ivory in bulk would prove
impossible to carry.  No, it was rather the desire to look upon new
things, to discover the Unknown which is so strong a part of my
nature, that at times it half reconciles me to the prospect of
death which I, who believe that we do not go out, believe also must
be a land or a state full of all that is strange and wonderful.

I had heard from natives in the neighbourhood of the great lake
Victoria Nyanza that there was a marvellous country between two
rivers known as M'bomu and Balo, where dwelt strange tribes who
were said to dress like Arabs and to talk a sort of Arabic; also
that somewhere in this country was a holy lake, a big sheet of
water that none was allowed to approach.  Further, that in this
lake, which was called Mone (pronounced like groan), a word of
unknown meaning, was an island "where dwelt the gods", or the
spirits, for the term used was capable of either interpretation.

Now, when I heard of this Holy Lake called Mone, "where dwelt the
gods", at once my mind went back to the letter of which I have
spoken in the preface of this book, that long years before I had
received from my late friend, Brother Ambrose, telling me what he
had learned from a slave whom he had christened.

Could it be the same, I wondered, as that of which the slave had
told Brother Ambrose?  Instantly, and with much suppressed
excitement, I set to work to make further inquiries, and was
informed that a certain Kaneke, a stranger who had been a slave and
was now the chief or captain of an Arab settlement some fifty miles
away from where I met these natives, could give me information
about the lake, inasmuch as he was reported to be born of the
people who dwelt upon its borders.

Then and there I changed my plans, as indeed was convenient to me
because of the suddenly developed hostility of a chief through
whose territory I had intended to pass, and in order to seek out
this Kaneke, took a road running in another direction to that which
I had designed to travel.  Little did I guess at the time that
Kaneke was seeking ME out and that the natives who told me the
legend of the lake were, in fact, his emissaries sent to tempt me
to visit him, or that it was he who had incited the chief against
me in order to block my path.

Well, in due course I reached Kaneke-town, as it was called,
without accident, for although between me and it dwelt a very
dangerous tribe whom at first I had purposed to avoid, all at once
their chief and headman became friendly and helped me in every way
upon my journey.  Kaneke, a remarkable person whom I will describe
later, received me well, giving me a place to camp outside his
village and all the food that we required.  Also he proved
extraordinarily communicative, telling me directly that he belonged
to a tribe called Dabanda, which had its home in the wild parts
whereof I have spoken.  He added that he was the "high-born" son of
a great doctor or medicine-man, a calling which all his family had
followed for generations.  In some curious way, of which I did not
at first learn the details, while undergoing his novitiate as a
doctor or magician, this man had been seized by a rival tribe, the
Abanda, and ultimately sold as a slave to an Arab trader, one
Hassan, who brought him down to the neighbourhood of the great
lake.

Here also, according to his own story, it seemed that one night
this Kaneke succeeded in murdering Hassan.

"I crept on him in the night.  I got him by the throat.  I choked
the life out of him," he said, twitching his big hands, "and as he
died I whispered in his ear of all the cruel things he had done to
me.  He made signs to me, praying for mercy, but I went on till I
had killed him, whispering to him all the while.  When he was dead
I took his body and threw it out into the bush, having first
stripped him.  There a lion found it and bore it away, for in the
morning it was gone.  Then, Macumazahn" (that is the native name by
which I, Allan Quatermain, am known in Africa, and which had come
with me to these parts), "I played a great game, such as you might
have done, O Watcher-by-Night.  I returned to the tent of Hassan
and sat there thinking.

"I heard the lion, or lions come, for I think there was more than
one of them, as I was sure that they would come who had called them
by a charm, and guessed that they had eaten or carried away Hassan
the evil.  When all was quiet I dressed myself in the robes of
Hassan.  I found his gun, which on the journey he had taught me to
use, that I might shoot the slaves who could travel no farther for
him; his pistol also, and saw that they were loaded.  Then I sat
myself upon his stool and waited for the light.

"At the dawn one of his women crept into the tent to visit him.  I
seized her.  She stared at me, saying:

"'You are not my master.  You are not Hassan.'

"I answered, 'I am your master.  I am Hassan, whose face the
spirits have changed in the night.'

"She opened her mouth to cry out.  I said:

"'Woman, if you try to scream, I will kill you.  If you are quiet I
will take you.  Look on me.  I am young.  Hassan was old.  I am a
finer man, you will be happier with me.  Choose now.  Will you die,
or live?'

"'I will live,' she said, she who was no fool.

"'Then I am Hassan, am I not?' I asked.

"'Yes,' she said, 'you are Hassan and my lord.  I am sure of it
now.'

"For I tell you, that woman had wit, Macumazahn, and I was sorry
when, two years afterwards, she died.

"'Good,' I said.  'Now, when the servants of Hassan come you will
swear that I am he and no other, remembering that if you do not
swear you die.'

"'I will swear,' she answered.

"Presently the headman of Hassan came, a big fat fellow who was
half an Arab, to bring him his morning drink.  I took it and drank.
The light of the rising sun struck into the tent.  He saw and
started back.

"'You are not Hassan,' he said.  'You are the slave Kaneke, whom we
bought.'

"'I am Hassan,' I answered.  'Ask my wife here, whom you know, if I
am not Hassan.  Also, if I am not, where is Hassan?'

"'Yes, he is Hassan, my husband,' broke in the woman.

"'This is witchcraft!' he cried, and ran away.

"'Now he is gone to fetch the others,' I said to the woman.
'Fasten back the sides of the tent that I may see, and give me the
guns.'

"She obeyed, though then she sat exposed, and I took the double-
barrelled gun and held it ready.

"Presently, they all came, five or six Arabs, or half Arabs, and a
score or so of black soldiers.  Even the slaves came, dragging
their yokes, fifty or more of them of whom perhaps thirty were men,
all known to me, for had we not shared the yoke?  There they stood
huddled together behind the Arabs, staring.

"'Take a knife,' I whispered to the woman; 'slip out, get among the
slaves and cut the thongs of the yokes.'

"She nodded--have I not told you that girl had wits, Macumazahn?--
and slipped away.

"Cried the fat one, the captain:

"'This fellow, whom we all know for Kaneke, the slave whom we
bought, says that he is Hassan our lord.  Yes, there he sits in
Hassan's robes and says that he is Hassan.  Dog, where is Hassan?'

"'Inside this garment,' I answered.  'Listen.  I made a bargain
with Hassan, I who am a wizard.  I forgave him his sins against me,
and in return he gave me his soul while his body flew away to
Paradise.'

"'The liar!' shouted the captain.  'Kill him!' and he brandished a
spear.

"'Admit that I am Hassan or I will send you to where you will learn
that I am no liar,' I said quietly.

"In answer he lifted the spear to stab me.  Then I shot him dead.

"'Now am I Hassan?' I asked, while the rest stared at him.

"One or two who were frightened said 'Yes'.  Others stood silent,
and a big fellow began to put a cap upon his gun.  I shot him with
the other barrel, then, rising, roared in a great voice:

"'On to them, slaves, if you would be free!' for by now I saw that
the woman had cut many of the thongs.

"Those men were brave, they came of good stock.  They heard, and
leapt on to the Arabs with a shout, knocking them down with the
yokes and throttling them with their hands.  Soon it was over.
Most of them were killed, but two or three crawled before me crying
that I was certainly Hassan.

"'Very well,' I said.  'Take away these'--here I pointed to the
dead men--'and throw them into yonder ravine, and bid the women
prepare food while I make prayer according to my custom.'

"Then I took Hassan's beautiful prayer-rug, spread it and made
obeisance in the proper fashion, muttering with my lips as I had
often watched him do; after which everything went smoothly.  That
is all the story, Macumazahn."

When he had finished this tale, which, true or false, of its sort
was remarkable even in equatorial Africa, where such things happen,
or happened, by the score without anybody hearing of them, I sat
awhile considering Kaneke.

To tell the truth he was worth study.  A giant of a man in size, he
was not a negro by any means, for his features had a somewhat
Semitic cast and he was yellow-hued rather than black.  Moreover,
he had hair, not wool, wavy hair that he wore rather long.  His
eyes were so prominent, round, and lustrous that they gave an owl-
like cast to his countenance, his features well cut, although the
lips were somewhat coarse and the nose was hooked like a hawk's
beak, while his hands and feet were thin and shapely, and in
curious contrast to his great athletic frame and swelling muscles.
His age might have been anything between thirty-five and forty, and
he carried his years well, moving with the swing and vigour of
youth.

It was his face, however, that commanded my attention as a student
of character.  It was extraordinarily strong and yet dreamy, almost
mystical, indeed, when in repose, the face of a thinker, or even of
a priest.  Contemplating him I could almost believe the strange
tale he had told me, which in the case of most natives I should
have set down as an outrageous lie.  For here, without doubt, was a
man who could conceive a plot of the sort and execute it without
hesitation.  Yet he was one to whom I took a dislike from the
moment I set eyes upon him.  Instinctively, however attractive he
might be in some ways, I felt that at bottom he was dangerous and
not to be trusted.  Still, he interested me very much, as did his
story, especially that part of it in which he said that he called
the lions "by a charm".

"What happened afterwards, Kaneke?" I asked at last.

"Oh, very little, Macumazahn.  I became Hassan, though they called
me 'the Changeling'; that is all.  I did not travel on towards the
coast because I thought it safer to stop where I was, not daring to
go either forward or back.  So I gathered people about me and
founded the town in which you are.  Once some Arabs came to kill
me, but I killed them, and after that I was no more molested,
because, you see, I was looked upon as a ghost-man, one who had a
great ju-ju, one not to be touched; and all were afraid of me."

"You mean you became a witch-doctor again, Kaneke."

"Yes, Macumazahn.  Or, rather, I was that already, a diviner and a
master of spells, like my fathers before me.  So here I set up as a
sort of wise man as well as a warrior, and soon gained a great
repute, which caused all the people round about to send to me to
give them medicines and charms, or to make rain.  Thus, and with
the help of trade, I became rich and powerful as I am today."

"Then you are a happy man, Kaneke."

He rolled his big round eyes and looked at me earnestly, asking:

"Is any man happy, Macumazahn, or at least any man who thinks?  The
beasts are happy; can man be happy like the beasts who never look
to tomorrow or to the hour of death?"

"Now that you mention it, Kaneke, I do not suppose that any man is
happy, except sometimes for an hour when he forgets himself in
drink, or love, or war."

"Or when he talks with the heavens," added Kaneke, which I thought
a strange remark.  "Yes, then and in sleep he is sometimes happy
till he wakes to the sorrow of the day."

He paused a little and went on:

"If this be so with all men, how much more is it so with those who
have known the yoke and who must grow old far from their homes, as
I do?  For such there is no joy, for even their dreams are haunted.
In these they see the village where they were born and the distant
mountains and the face of their mother, and hear the voices of
their playmates and of those they loved, that now are still."

I sighed as the truth of his words came home to me.

"If you feel thus," I answered presently, "why do you not return to
your home?"

"I will tell you, Macumazahn.  There are many reasons, among them
these.  Here I rule over people who would not wish to go with me
and who, if I forced them, would run away, or perhaps poison me.
Indeed, they would not let me go because I am necessary to them,
protecting them from their enemies and from wild beasts, and giving
them rain, as I can do.  Again, the road is long and dangerous, and
maybe I should not live to come to its end.  Also, if I did, what
should I find?  I was my father's eldest son, born of his chief
wife, and to me he told the secrets of his wisdom that have come
down to us through the generations.  But I have been absent for
years and mayhap another has taken my place.  My people would not
welcome me, Macumazahn.  They might kill me, especially if they who
know all, have learned that I have betrayed my own goddess by
bending the knee to the Prophet, even though I never bent my heart.
Still, it is true that I wish to risk all and return, even if it be
to die."

Now I grew deeply interested, for always I have loved to discover
the mysteries of these strange African faiths.

"Your own goddess?" I asked.  "What goddess?"

All this time we were seated in the shade of a flat-topped, thick-
leaved tree of the banyan species, the Tree of Council it was
called, that grew upon a little knoll at a distance from Kaneke's
town.  He rose and walked all round this place, as though to make
sure that no one was near us.  Then he stared up into its branches,
where he discovered a monkey sitting.  I knew that it was there,
but he did not seem to have noticed it.  At this monkey he began to
shout out something, as though he were giving it orders, till at
last the little beast ran along the boughs of the tree, dropped to
the ground and bolted for the bush in the distance.

"Why do you hunt it away?" I asked.

"A monkey can hear and is very like a man.  Perhaps a monkey can
tell tales, Macumazahn."

I laughed, for of course I understood that this was an African way
of indicating that the matter to be discussed was most solemn and
private.  By driving away that monkey Kaneke was swearing me to the
strictest secrecy--or so I thought.

He came back and moved his stool, I noted, into such a position
that the light of the westering sun striking through the lower
boughs of the tree flickered on my face and left his in shadow.
I lit my pipe leisurely, so that for some time there was silence
between us.  The fact is I was determined that he should be the
first to speak.  It is a good rule with any native when a subject
of importance is concerned.

"You asked me of my goddess, Macumazahn."

"Did I, Kaneke?" I replied, puffing at my pipe to make it burn.
"Oh yes, I remember.  Well, who is she and where does she live?
On earth or in heaven--which is the home of goddesses?"

"Yesterday, Macumazahn, you--or perhaps it was that little yellow
man, your servant Hans--asked me if I had ever heard of a lake
called Mone which lies in the hidden land where dwell my people,
the Dabanda, beyond the Ruga-Ruga Mountains."

"I dare say.  I remember having heard of this lake, which
interested me because of legends connected with it, though I forget
what they were.  What about it?"

"Only that it is there my goddess dwells, Macumazahn."

"Indeed.  Then I suppose that she is a water-spirit."

"I cannot say, Macumazahn.  I only know that she dwells with her
women on the island in the lake, and at night, when it is very
dark, sometimes she and her companions are heard upon the water, or
passing through the forests, singing and laughing."

"Did you ever see her, Kaneke?"

He hesitated like one who seeks time to make up a plausible story,
or so I thought, then answered:

"Yes.  Once when I was young.  I had been sent to look for some
goats of ours that had strayed, and following them into the forest
which slopes down to the lake, I lost myself there.  Night came on
and I lay down to sleep under a tree, or rather to watch for the
dawn, so that with the light I might escape from that darksome,
haunted place, of which I was afraid."

"Well, and what happened?"

"So much that I cannot remember all, Macumazahn.  Spirits went by
me; I heard them in the tree-tops and above; I heard them pass
through the forest, laughing; I felt them gather about me and knew
that they were mocking me.  At length all those Wood-Dwellers went
away, leaving me as terrified as though a lion had come and eaten
out of my bowl.  The moon rose and her light pierced down through
the boughs, a shaft of it here, a shaft of it there, with breadths
of blackness between.  I shut my eyes, trying to sleep, then
hearing sounds, I opened them again.  I looked up.  There in the
heart of one of the pools of light stood a woman, a fair-skinned
woman like to one of your people, Macumazahn.  She seemed to be
young and slender, also beautiful, as I perceived when she turned
her head and the moon shone upon her face and showed her soft, dark
eyes, which were like those of a buck.  For the rest she was clad
in grey garments that glimmered like a spider's web filled with dew
at dawn.  There was a cap upon her head and from beneath it her
black hair flowed down upon her shoulders.  Oh, she was beautiful--
so beautiful . . ." and he paused.

"That what, Kaneke?" I asked curiously.

"Lord, that I committed a great crime, the greatest in the whole
world, the crime of sacrilege against her who is called the
Shadow."

"Shadow!  Whose shadow?"

"The Shadow of the Engoi, the goddess who dwells in heaven and is
shone upon by the star we worship above all other stars."  (This, I
found afterwards, was the planet Venus.)  "Or perhaps she dwells in
the star and is shone upon by the moon--I do not know.  At least,
she who lives upon the island in the lake is the shadow of the
Engoi upon earth, and that is why she is called Engoi and Shadow."

"Very interesting," I said, though I understood little of what he
said, except that it was a piece of African occultism to which as
yet I had not the key.  "But what crime did you commit?"

"Lord, I was young and my blood was hot and the beauty of this
wanderer in the forest made me mad.  Lord, I threw my arms about
her and embraced her.  Or, rather, I tried to embrace her, but
before my lips touched hers all my strength left me, my arms fell
down and I became as a man of stone, though I could still see and
hear. . . ."

"What did you see and hear, Kaneke?" I asked, for again he paused
in his story.

"I saw her lovely face grow terrible and I heard her say, 'Do you
know who I am, O man Kaneke, who are not afraid to do me violence
in my holy, secret grove where none may set his foot?'  Lord, I
tried to lie, but I could not who must answer, 'I know that you are
the Engoi; I know that your name is Shadow.  I pray you to pardon
me, O Shadow.'

"'For what you have done there is no pardon.  Still, your life is
spared, if only for a while.  Get you gone and let the Council of
the Engoi deal with you as it will.'"

"And what happened then?"

"Then, Lord, she departed, vanishing away, and I too departed,
flying through the forest terribly afraid and pursued by voices
that proclaimed my crime and threatened vengeance.  Next day the
Council seized me and passed judgment on me, driving me from the
land so that I fell into the hands of our enemies, the Abanda, who
dwell upon the slopes of the mountains, and in the end was sold as
a slave."

"And how did this Council know what you had done, Kaneke?"

"What is known to the Shadow is known to her Council, and what is
known to her Council is known to the Shadow, Lord."

Now I considered Kaneke and his story, and came to the conclusion,
a perfectly correct one, as I think, that he was lying to me.  What
his exact offence against this priestess may have been I don't know
and never learned in detail, though I believe that it was much
worse than what he described.  All that was certain is that he had
committed some sacrilegious crime of such a character that,
notwithstanding his rank, he was forced to fly out of his country
in order to save his life, and to become an exile, which he
remained.

Leaving that subject without further comment, I asked him who were
these Abanda who delivered him into slavery.

"Lord," he replied, "they are a branch of a people from whom we
separated ages ago and who live on the plains beyond the mountains.
They hate us and are jealous of us because the Engoi gives us rain
and fruitful season, whereas often they suffer from drought and
scarcity.  Therefore they wish to take the land and Lake Mone, so
that the Engoi may once more be their goddess also.  More, they are
a mighty people, whereas we are very few, for from generation to
generation our numbers dwindle."

"Then why do they not invade and defeat you, Kaneke?"

"Because they dare not, Lord; because if they set foot within the
land of Mone a curse will fall upon them, seeing that it and we who
dwell there are protected by the Stars of Heaven.  Yet always they
hope that the day will come when they can defy the curse and
conquer us, who hold them back by wisdom and not by spears.  And
now, Macumazahn, I must go to make my prayer before the people to
that prophet in whom I do not believe.  Yet come to me again when
the evening star has risen, for I have more to say to you,
Macumazahn."

I got up, then said:

"One more question before I go, Kaneke.  Is this Engoi of whom you
speak, who lives in a lake, a woman or--something more?"

"Lord, how can I answer?  Certainly she is a woman, for she is born
and dies, leaving behind her a daughter to take her place.  Also
she is something more, or so we are taught."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the same flesh or Shadow dwells in every Engoi,
although the flesh which holds it changes from generation to
generation.  There is a legend that she is an angel who sinned and
fell from heaven."

"What is the legend and how did she sin?"

A cunning look came over the face of Kaneke as he answered:

"The priests' tale runs, Lord, that an Engoi of long ago loved a
white man and that when he was forbidden to her, she killed him to
take him to heaven with her.  Therefore she must return to the
world again and again till she finds that white man" (here he
glanced at me) "and makes amends to him for her crime.  She is
looking for him now, and the Stars declare that the time is at hand
when she will find him again."

"Do they really?" I remarked.  "Well, I hope she won't be
disappointed," I added, reflecting to myself that Kaneke was a
first-class imaginative liar, for though the idea of the sinful
spirit returning to inhabit mortal flesh is as old as the world,
his adaptation of it was ingenious.

What, I wondered, as I walked away, did that specious but false-
hearted ruffian Kaneke want to get out of me?  Whatever his object,
certainly the man could not be trusted.  According to his own
account he was a fugitive outcast who had committed murder, one
also who for his personal advantage pretended to profess a faith in
which he admitted that he had no belief, showing thereby that he
was of a traitorous and contemptible character.  So sure was I of
this, that but for one thing I would have put an end to my
acquaintance with him then and there.  He knew the way to Lake Mone
and declared that it was his country.  And I--well, I burned to
find out the truth about this holy lake and the mysterious
priestess who dwelt in the midst of its waters, she, without doubt,
of whom Brother Ambrose had written to me so many years ago.



CHAPTER II

ALLAN'S BUSINESS INSTINCTS


I went to my camp, which was situated upon the outskirts of
Kaneke's village in a deserted garden where bananas, oranges,
papaws, and other semi-tropical products fought for existence in a
neglected confusion, working out the problem of the survival of the
fittest.  Here I found Hans the Hottentot, who had been my servant
and in his own way friend from my youth up, as he was that of my
father before me.  He was seated in front of the palm-leaf shelter
watching a pot upon the fire made of mealie-cobs from which the
corn had been stripped, looking very hot and cross.

"So you have come at last, Baas," he said volubly.  "An hour ago
that coast cook-boy, Aru, went off, leaving me to watch this stew
which he said must be kept upon the simmer, neither boiling nor
going cold, or it would be spoiled.  He swore that he was going to
pray to Allah, for he is a Prophet-worshipper, Baas.  But I know
what his prophet is like, for I found him kissing her last night;
great fat girl with a mouth as wide as that plate and a bold eye
that frightens me, Baas, who have always been timid of women."

"Have you?" I said.  "Then I wish you would be timid of other
things too, gin-bottles, for instance."

"Ah, Baas, a gin-bottle, I mean one that is full, is better than a
woman, for of a gin-bottle you know the worst.  You swallow the
gin, you get drunk and it is very sad, and next morning your head
aches and you think of all the sins you ever did.  Yes, Baas, and
if the gin was at all bad, their number is endless, and their
colour so black that you feel that they can never be forgiven,
however hard your reverend father, the Predikant, may pray for you
up there.  But, Baas, as the morning goes on, especially if you
have the sense to drink a pint of milk and the luck to get it, and
the sun shines, you grow better.  Your sins roll away, you feel, or
at least I do, that the prayers of your reverend father may have
prevailed there in the Place of Fires, and that the slip is
overlooked because Life's road is so full of greasy mud, Baas, that
few can travel it without sometimes sitting down to think.  Now
with women, as the Baas knows better perhaps than anyone, the
matter is not so simple.  You can't wash HER away with a pint of
milk and a little sunshine, Baas.  She is always waiting round the
corner; yes, even if she is dead--in your mind you know, Baas."

"Be silent, Hans," I said, "and give me my supper."

"Yes, Baas; that is what I am trying to do, Baas, but something has
gone wrong after all, for the stuff is sticking to the pot and I
can't get it out even with this iron spoon.  I think that if the
Baas would not mind taking the pot and helping himself, it would be
much easier," and he thrust that blackened article towards me.

"Hans," I said, "if this place were not Mahommedan where there is
no liquor, I should think that you had been drinking."

"Baas, if you believe that Prophet-worshippers do not drink, your
head is even softer than I imagined.  It is true that they have no
gin here, at least at present, because they have finished the last
lot and cannot get any more till the traders come.  But they make a
kind of wine of their own out of palm trees which answers quite
well if you can swallow enough of it without being sick, which I am
sorry to say I can't, Baas, and therefore this afternoon I have
only had two pannikins full.  If the Baas would like to try some--"

Here I lifted the first thing that came to hand--it was a three-
legged stool--and hurled it at Hans, who slipped cleverly round the
corner of the hut, probably because he was expecting its advent.

A while later, after I had tackled the stew--which had stuck to the
pot--with unsatisfactory results, and lit my pipe, he returned to
clear up, in such a chastened frame of mind that I gathered the
palm-wine--well, let that be.

"What has the Baas been doing all the afternoon in this dull
place?" he asked humbly, watching me with a furtive eye, for there
was another stool within reach, also the pot.  "Talking to that
giant rain-maker, who looks like an owl in sunlight--I mean Kaneke--
or perhaps to one of his wives; she who is so pretty," he added,
by an after-thought.

"Yes," I said, "I have--to Kaneke, I mean, not to the wife, whom I
do not know; indeed, I never heard that he had any wives."

Then I added suddenly, for now that he had recovered from the palm-
wine I wished to surprise the truth out of his keen mind:

"What do you think of Kaneke, Hans?"

Hans twiddled his dirty hat and fixed his little yellow eyes upon
the evening sky, then he took the pot and, finding a remaining leg
of fowl, ate it reflectively, after which he produced his corn-cob
pipe and asked me for some tobacco.  This, by the way, I was glad
to see, for when Hans could smoke I knew that he was quite sober.

These preliminaries finished, he remarked.

"As to what was it that the Baas wished me to instruct him?  Oh, I
remember.  About that big village headman, Kaneke.  Well, Baas, I
have made inquiries concerning him from his wife, who says she is
jealous of him and therefore in a mood to speak the truth.  First
of all he is a great liar, Baas, though that is nothing for all
these people are liars--not like me and you, Baas, who often speak
the truth, or at least I do."

"Stop fooling, and answer my question," I said.

"Yes, Baas.  Well, I said that he was a liar, did I not?  For
instance, I dare say he has told the Baas a fine tale about how he
came to settle here, by killing the head of the slave-gang, after
which all the other slavers acknowledged him as their chief.  The
truth is that he and the other slaves murdered the lot of them
because he said he was a good Mahommedan and could not bear to see
them drinking gin against the law, which for my part I think was
clever of him.  They surprised them in their sleep, Baas, and
dragged them to the top of that cliff over the stream, where they
threw them one by one into the water, except two who had beaten
Kaneke.  These he flogged to death, which I dare say they deserved.
After this the people here, who hated the slavers because they
robbed them, made Kaneke their chief because he was such a holy man
who could not bear to see followers of the Prophet drink gin, also
because they were afraid lest he should throw them over the cliff
too.  That is why he must be so strict about his prayers, because,
you see, he must keep his fame for holiness and show that he is as
good as he wishes others to be."

Hans stopped to re-light his pipe with an ember, and I asked him
impatiently if he had any more to say.

"Yes, Baas, lots.  This Kaneke is not one man, he is two.  The
first Kaneke is a tyrant, one full of plots who would like to rule
the world, a lover of liquor too, which he drinks in secret;
fierce, cunning, cruel.  The second Kaneke is one who dreams, who
hears voices and sees things in the sky, who follows after visions,
a true witch-doctor, a man who would seek what is afar, but who,
living in this soft place, is like a lion in a cage.  His mother
must have made a mistake, and instead of bearing twins, got two
spirits into one body where they must fight together till he dies."

"I dare say.  Many men have two spirits in one body.  Is that all,
Hans?"

"Yes--that is, no, Baas.  You know this Kaneke brought you here,
don't you, Baas, and that all those troubles which we met with, so
that we could not go the road we wanted because that tribe sent to
say they would kill us if we did, were made by him so that you
might come to his village."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"Well, it was so, Baas.  The jealous woman told me all about it."

"Why?  What for?  There is no big game here that I can shoot, and I
am not rich to give him presents.  Indeed, he has asked for nothing
and feeds us without payment."

"I am not sure, Baas, but I think that he wishes you to go
somewhere with him; that the lion wants to come out of the cage and
to kill for himself, instead of living on dead meat of which he is
tired.  Has he spoken to you about that holy lake of which we have
heard, Baas?  If not, I think he will."

"Yes, Hans.  It seems that it is in his country where he was born
and that he had an adventure there in his youth, because of which
his people drove him away."

"Just so, Baas, and presently you will find that he desires to go
back to his country and have more adventures or to pay off old
scores, or both.  Do you wish to go with him, Baas?"

"Do you, Hans?"

"I think not, Baas.  This Kaneke is a spook man, and I am afraid of
spooks who always make me feel cold down the back."

Here Hans stared at the sky again, then added:

"And yet, Baas, I'd rather go to the lake or anywhere than stop in
this place where there is nothing to do and the palm-wine makes one
sick, especially as after all, a good Christian like Hans has
nothing to fear from spooks, whom he can tell to go to hell, as
your reverend father did, Baas.  Lastly, as your reverend father
used to say, too, when he stood in the box in a nightshirt, it
doesn't matter what I wish to do, or what you wish to do, since we
shall go where we must, yes, where it pleases the Great One in the
sky to send us, Baas, even if He uses Kaneke to drag us there by
the hair of the head.  And now, Baas, I must wash up those things
before it gets dark, after which I have to meet that jealous wife
of Kaneke's yonder in a quiet place, and learn a little more from
her, for as you know, Baas, Hans is always a seeker after wisdom."

"Mind that you don't find folly," I remarked sententiously.  Then
remembering my promise and noting that the evening star was showing
brightly in the quiet sky, I rose and went through the gate of the
town, for my camp was outside the fence of prickly pears which was
planted round the palisade, thinking as I walked that in his
ridiculous way Hans had spoken a great truth.  It was useless to
bother about plans, seeing that we should go where it was fated
that we should go, and nowhere else.  Doubtless man has free will,
but the path of circumstance upon which he is called to exercise it
is but narrow.

At the gate I found a white-robed man waiting to guide me to
Kaneke's abode, "to keep off the dogs and see that I did not step
upon a thorn", as he said.

So I was conducted through the village, a tidy place in its way, to
the north end, where outside the fence was that cliff with a
stream, now nearly dry, running at the bottom of it over which Hans
said Kaneke had thrown the slave-traders.

Round Kaneke's house, that was square, thatched, and built of
whitewashed clay, was a strong palisade through which the only
entrance was by a double gate, for evidently this chief was one who
took no risks.  At the inner gate my guide bowed and left me.  As
he departed it was opened by Kaneke himself, who, I noted, made it
fast behind me with a bar and some kind of primitive lock.  Then he
bowed before me in almost reverential fashion, saying:

"Enter, my lord Macumazahn, White Lord whose fame has travelled
far.  Yes, whose fame has reached me even in this dead place where
no news comes."

Now I looked at him, thinking to myself for the second time, "I do
wonder what it is you want to get out of me, my friend."  Then I
said:

"Has it indeed?  That is very strange, seeing that I am no great
one, no Queen's man who wears ribbons and bright stars, nor even
rich, but only a humble hunter who shoots and trades for his
living."

"It is not at all strange, O Macumazahn.  Do you not know that
every man of account has two values?--one his public value in the
market-place, which may be much or little; and the other his
private value, which is written in all minds that have judgment.
Nor is it strange that I should be acquainted with this second and
higher value of yours that stands apart from wealth, or honours
cried by heralds.  Have I not told you that I am one of the
fraternity of witch-doctors, and do you not know that throughout
Africa such doctors communicate with one another by curious and
secret ways?  I say that before ever you set foot upon our shores I
knew that you were coming in a ship, also much concerning you.
Amongst others a certain Zikali who dwells in the land of the
Zulus, a chief of our brotherhood, sent me a message."

"Oh, did he?" I said.  "Well, Zikali's ways are dark and strange,
so I can almost believe it.  But, friend Kaneke, is it wise to talk
thus openly here?  Doubtless you have women in your house, and
women's ears are long."

"Women," he answered.  "Do you suppose that I keep such trash about
me in my private place?  Not so.  Here my servants are men who are
sworn to me, and even these leave me at sundown, save for the guard
without my gates."

"So you are a hermit, Kaneke."

"At night I am a hermit, for then I commune with heaven.  In the
day I am as other men are, better than some and worse than others."

Now I bethought me of Hans' definition of this strange fellow whom
he described as having two natures and not for the first time
marvelled at the little Hottentot's acumen and deductive powers.

Kaneke led me across the courtyard of beaten polished earth to the
stoep or verandah of his house, which was more or less square in
shape, consisting apparently of two rooms that had doors and
windows after the Arab fashion, or rather window-places closed with
mats, for there was no glass.  On this stoep were two chairs, large
string-seated chairs of ebony with high backs, such as are
sometimes still to be found upon the East Coast.  The view from the
place was fine, for beneath at the foot of a precipice lay the
river bed, and beyond it stretched a great plain.  When I was
seated Kaneke went into the house where a lamp was burning, and
returned with a bottle of brandy, two glasses, curious old glasses,
by the way, and an earthen vessel of water.  At his invitation I
helped myself, moderately enough; then he did the same--not quite
so moderately.

"I thought that you were a Mahommedan," I said, with an affectation
of mild surprise.

"Then, Macumazahn, you have a bad memory.  Did I not tell you a few
hours ago that I am nothing of the sort.  In the daytime out yonder
I worship the Prophet.  Here at night, when I am alone, I worship,
not the Moslem crescent, but yonder star," and he pointed to Venus
now shining brightly in the sky, lifted his glass, bowed as though
to her, and drank.

"You play a risky game," I said.

"Not very," he said, shrugging his shoulders.  "There are few
zealots in this place, and I think no one who from time to time
will not drink a tot.  Moreover, am I not a witch-doctor, and
although such arts are forbidden, have they not all consulted me
and are they not afraid of me?"

"I dare say, Kaneke, but the question is, are you not also afraid
of them?"

"Yes, Macumazahn, at times I am," he answered frankly, "for even a
'heaven-herd'" (he meant a rain-maker) "has a stomach, and some of
these Great Lake people understand poisons very well, especially
the women.  You see, Macumazahn, I am a slave who has become a
master, and they do not forget it."

"What do you want with me?" I asked suddenly.

"Your help, Lord.  Although I am rich here, I wish to get out of
this place and to return to my own country."

"Well, what is there to prevent you from doing so?"

"Much, Lord, without an excuse, as I told you before sundown.
Indeed, it is impossible.  If I tried to go I should be murdered as
a traitor and a renegade.  That is the tree of Truth; ask me not to
count the leaves upon it and tell you why or how they grow."

"Good.  I see your tree and that it is large.  But what do you want
with me, Kaneke?"

"Lord, have I not told you that your repute has reached me and the
rest?  Now I add something which you will not believe, but yet is
another tree of Truth.  I am not all a cheat, Lord.  Visions come
to me, as they did to my fathers; moreover, I have looked upon the
face of Engoi, and he who has seen the Engoi partakes of her
wisdom.  Lord, in a vision, I have been warned to seek your help."

"Is that why you blocked my road by raising that Lake tribe against
me, and otherwise, Kaneke, so that I was forced to come to your
town?"

"Yes, Lord, though I do not know who betrayed me to you.  Some of
the women, perhaps, or that little yellow man of yours, who hears
in his sleep like a mere-cat--yes, even when he seems to be drunk--
and is quick as a snake at pairing-time.  Because of the vision, I
did bring you here."

"What do you want me to do?" I repeated, growing impatient.  "I am
tired of talk.  Out with it that I may hear and judge, Kaneke."

He rose from his seat, and, stepping to the edge of the verandah,
stared at the evening star as though he sought an omen.  Then he
returned and answered:

"You are a wanderer, athirst for knowledge, a seeker for new
things, Lord Macumazahn.  You have heard of the holy hidden lake
called Mone, on which no white man has looked, and desire to solve
its mysteries, and what I have told you of it has whetted your
appetite.  Without a guide you can never reach that lake.  I, who
am of the people of its guardians, alone can guide you.  Will you
take me with you on your journey?"

"Hold hard, my friend," I said.  "You are putting the tail of the
ox before the horns.  I may wish to find that place, or I may not,
but it seems that you MUST find it, I don't know why, and that you
cannot do so without me."

"It is so," he answered with something like a groan.  "I will open
the doors of my heart to you.  I must seek that lake, for those
upon whom the Shadow has fallen must follow the Shadow even though
its shape be changed; and it has come to me in a dream, thrice
repeated, that if I try to do so without your help, Lord, I shall
be killed.  Therefore, I pray you, give me that help."

Now my business instincts awoke, for though some do not think so, I
am really a very sharp business man, even hard at times, I fear.

"Look here, friend Kaneke," I said, "I came to this country because
I have heard that beyond it is a land full of elephants and other
game, and you know I am a hunter by trade.  I did not come to
search for a mysterious lake, though I should be glad enough to see
one if it lay in my path.  So the point is this: if I were to
consent to undertake a journey which according to your own account
is most dangerous and difficult, I should require to be paid for
it.  Yes, to be largely paid," and I looked at him as fiercely as I
suppose a usurer does at a minor who requires a loan.

"I understand.  Indeed, it is natural.  Listen, Lord, I have a
hundred sovereigns in English gold that I have saved up coin by
coin.  When we get to the lake they shall be yours."

I sprang from my chair.

"A hundred sovereigns!  When we get to the lake, which probably we
shall never do!  Man, I see that you wish to insult me.  Good
night, indeed good-bye, for tomorrow I leave this place," and I
lifted my foot to step off the verandah.

"Lord," he said, catching at my coat, "be not offended with your
slave.  Everything I have is yours."

"That's better," I said.  "What have you?"

"Lord, I deal in ivory, of which I have a good store buried."

"How much?"

"Lord, I think about a hundred bull-tusks, which I proposed to send
away at next new moon.  If you would accept some of them--"

"Some?" I said.  "You mean all of them, with the one hundred pounds
for immediate expenses."

He rolled his eyes and sighed, then answered:

"Well, if it must be so, so be it.  Tomorrow you shall see the
ivory."

Next he went into the house and returned presently with a canvas
bag, of which he opened the mouth to show me that it was full of
gold.

"Take this on account, Lord," he said.

Again my business instincts came to my help.  Remembering that if I
touched a single coin I should be striking a bargain, whatever the
ivory might prove to be worth, I waved the bag away.

"When I have seen the tusks, we will talk," I said; "not before.
And now good night."



Next morning a messenger arrived, again inviting me to Kaneke's
house.

I went, accompanied this time by Hans to whom I had explained the
situation, whereon that worthy gave me some excellent advice.

"Be stiff, Baas," he said; "be very stiff, and get everything you
can.  It is unfortunate that you do not sell women like these
Arabs, for this Kaneke has a nice lot of young girls whom he would
give you for the asking, were you not too good a Christian.
Listen, Baas, I have learned that you can't ask too much, for
yonder Kaneke must get out of this place, and soon, if he wants to
go on living.  I am sure of it, and without your help he is afraid
to move."

"Cease your foolish talk," I answered, though in my heart I had
come to the same conclusion.

On reaching the house, as before the gate was opened by Kaneke, who
looked rather doubtfully at Hans, but said nothing.  Within, for
the most part arranged against the fence, was the ivory.  My eyes
gleamed at the sight of it, for it was a splendid lot though in
some cases rather black with age as if it had been hidden away for
a long time, and among it were three or four tusks as large as any
that I ever shot.  Hans, who was a fine judge of ivory, went over
it piece by piece, which took a long time.  I made a calculation of
its value and from market rates then prevailing, allowing twenty-
five per cent for transport and other costs, I reckoned that it was
worth at least £700, and Hans, I found, put it somewhat higher.

Then we bargained for a long time, and in the end came to the
following agreement, which I reduced to writing: I undertook to
accompany Kaneke to his own country of the Dabanda tribe, unless,
indeed, sickness or disaster of any sort made this impossible,
after which I was to be at liberty to return or to go where I
would.  He, on his part, was to pay me the ivory as a fee, also to
deliver it free to my agent at Zanzibar, a man whom I trusted, who
was to sell it to the best advantage and to remit the proceeds to
my bank at Durban.

Further, the bag which proved to contain one hundred and three
sovereigns was handed over to me.  At this I rejoiced at the time,
though afterwards I regretted it, for what is the use of dragging
about gold in wild places where it has no value?  Kaneke undertook
also to guide me to his country, to arrange that I should be
welcome there and generally to protect me in every way in his
power.

Such, roughly, was our contract which I concluded with secret
exultation while that ivory was before my eyes.  I signed it in my
large, bold handwriting; Kaneke signed it in crabbed Arabic
characters of which he had acquired some knowledge; and Hans signed
it as a witness with a mark, or rather a blot, for in making it he
split the pen.  Thus all was finished and I went away exultant, as
I have said, promising to return in the afternoon to make
arrangements about the despatch of the ivory and as to our journey.

"Hans," I said, for there was no one else to talk to, "I did that
business very well, did I not?  Take a lesson from me and learn
always to strike when the iron is hot.  Tomorrow Kaneke might have
changed his mind and offered much less."

"Yes, Baas, very well indeed, though sometimes if the iron is too
hot the sparks blind one, Baas.  Only I think that tomorrow Kaneke
would have offered you double, for I know that he has much more
ivory buried.  If you had taken a lesson from ME, you would have
waited, Baas.  Did I not tell you that he MUST get out of this
place and would pay all he had for your help?"

"At any rate, Hans," I replied, somewhat staggered, "the pay is
good, as much as I could ask."

"That depends upon what price the Baas puts upon his life," said
Hans reflectively.  "For my part I do not see that all the tusks of
all the elephants in the world are of any use when one is dead, for
they won't even make a coffin, Baas."

"What do you mean?" I asked angrily.

"Oh, nothing, Baas, except that I believe that we shall both be
dead long before this business is finished.  Also have you thought,
Baas, that probably this ivory will never get to the coast at all?
Because you see Kaneke, who, I think, is also good at business,
will arrange for it to be stolen on the road and returned to him
later, just as you or I would have done, Baas, had we been in his
place.  However, the Baas has the hundred sovereigns which no doubt
will be very useful to eat when we are starving in some wilderness,
or as a bribe to Kaneke's fetish, whatever it may be.  Or--"

Here, unable to bear any more, I turned upon Hans with intent to do
him personal injury, whereon he bolted, grinning, leaving me to
wait upon myself at dinner.  It was not a cheerful meal, for, as I
reflected, the little wretch was probably right.  To secure very
doubtful advantages I had to let myself in for unknown difficulties
and dangers, in company with a native of whom I knew little or
nothing, except that he was an odd fish, and whose servant I had
practically become in consideration for value received.  For even
if I never saw that ivory again, or its proceeds, there were the
hundred sovereigns weighing down my pocket--and my conscience--like
a lump of lead.

Most heartily did I wish that I had never touched the business.  I
thought of sending back the gold to Kaneke by Hans, but for various
reasons dismissed the idea.  Of these the chief was that probably
it would never reach him, not because Hans was dishonest where
money was concerned, but for the reason that it would go against
what he called HIS conscience, to return anything to a person of
the sort from whom it had been extracted.  He might bury it; he
might even give it to that jealous wife from whom he acquired so
much backstair information; but Kaneke, I was sure, would never see
its colour unless I took it myself, which I was too proud to do.

Then suddenly my mood changed, transformed, perhaps, by some semi-
spiritual influence, or as is more likely, by that of a good meal,
for it is a humiliating fact that our outlook upon life and its
affairs depends largely upon our stomach.  What a rabbit of a man
was I that I should be scared from a great project by the idle
chatter and prognostications of Hans, uttered probably to exercise
his mischievous mind at my expense.  If I were, and on that account
turned my face towards the coast again, Hans, who loved adventure
even more than I do, would be the first to reproach me, not openly,
but by means of the casual arrows of his barbed wit.  Moreover, it
was useless to run away from anything, for as he himself had said
but yesterday, we must go where Fate drives us.  Well, Fate had
driven me to pocket Kaneke's sovereigns and a kind of note of hand
in ivory, so there was an end of the matter.  I would start for the
home of the Dabanda people, and for the unvisited shores of the
Lake Mone, and if I never got there, what did it matter?  All our
journeyings must end some day, be it next month, or next year, or a
decade hence.

I sent for Hans, who came looking pious and aggrieved, perhaps the
most aggravating of his many moods.

"Hans," I said, "I have made up my mind to go with Kaneke to the
Dabanda country, and if you try to prevent me any more, I shall be
angry with you and send you down to the coast with the ivory."

"Yes, Baas," he answered in a meek voice.  "The Baas could scarcely
do less, could he, after taking that fellow's money, which no doubt
he made by selling girls; that is, unless he wished to be called a
thief.  Moreover, I never tried to stop the Baas.  Why should I
when I shall be glad to go anywhere out of this place, where, to
tell the truth, that jealous little wife of Kaneke who tells me so
much, is beginning to think me too handsome and to roll her eyes
and to press her hand upon her middle whenever she sees me, which
makes me feel ill, Baas."

"You mean you make her feel ill, you little humbug," I suggested.

"No, Baas.  I wish it were so, for then I could think better of
her.  For the rest, Baas, if I pointed out the dangers of this
journey, it was not for my own self, but only because the Baas's
reverend father left him in my charge and therefore I must do my
best to guide him when I see him going astray."

At this I jumped up and Hans went on in a hurry.

"The Baas will not send me away to the coast with the ivory as he
threatened to do, will he?  He knows that in one way I am weak and
perhaps if I was separated from him, grief might cause me to drink
too much of that palm-wine and make myself ill."  Then, reading in
my face that I had no such intention, Hans took my hand, kissed it,
and departed.

At the corner of the cook-house he turned and said:

"The Baas has made his will, has he not?  So I need only remind him
that if he wishes to write any good-bye-we-shall-meet-in-heaven
letters, he had better do so at once, so that they can be sent down
to the coast with the ivory."



CHAPTER III

THE TRIAL OF KANEKE


I will pass over all the details concerning the dispatch of the
ivory on its long road to Zanzibar and our other preparations for
departure.  Suffice it to say that the stuff went off all right on
the shoulders of porters, together with a lot more, for Hans
guessed well when he said that Kaneke had plenty of other tusks
hidden away, although he declared that these belonged to someone
else.  What is more, here I will state that, strange as it may
seem, in due course the ivory reached Zanzibar in safety and was
delivered to my agent, who sold it according to instructions and,
minus his commission, remitted the proceeds, which were more than I
had expected, to my bank in Durban.  So in this matter Kaneke dealt
honestly.

What happened to the remainder of the ivory, which I presume to
have been his, I do not know, nor can it have interested him, as he
never returned to receive its price.  Nor do I know what other
goods went with that caravan which was led by Arabs, for I was
careful not to inquire.

Notwithstanding the insinuations of Hans, I saw no girl slaves, and
imagine them to have been apocryphal.  Indeed, I believe that what
Kaneke really dealt in was guns and powder.  Once a year a caravan
came up from Zanzibar laden with these and other goods, such as
cloth, calico, and beads, returning with the ivory that Kaneke had
collected in the interval.  The money which he made on these
transactions was large and kept in an English bank at Zanzibar, as
I learned in after years.  I wonder what became of it.

Well, the string of porters, headed by Arabs mounted upon donkeys,
departed and were no more seen.  We, too, prepared to depart.  Here
I should explain that my following was limited.  I had with me two
gun-bearers, skilled hunters both of them, who had been strongly
recommended to me in Zanzibar and who, having learned my repute as
a professional big-game shot, which had followed me from the South,
were very glad to enter my service.  One of these men was, it
appeared, an Abyssinian by birth with a name so unpronounceable
that I christened him Tom, though the natives called him "Little
Holes", because his face was marked with small-pox.

The other was born of a Somali woman and an Arab, or perhaps a
European father.  To tell the truth he was remarkably British in
his appearance with a round, open face and almost straight, reddish
hair, although of course--except in certain lights--his skin was
dark.  His name, he informed me proudly, speaking in excellent
English, for he had been educated at one of the first Mission
schools and served as gun-bearer to several English sportsmen, was
Jeremiah Jackson.  Who his father might have been he had no idea,
and as his mother died before he was five, she had never told him.

This man I called Jerry, because of the natural association of the
name with that of Tom, for who has not heard of Tom and Jerry, the
typical "gay dogs" of the Georgian days of whom my father used to
tell me?  Both of them were of about the same age, somewhere
between thirty and forty.  Both were Christians of a sort, for Tom
belonged to the Abyssinian section of that faith, and both were
brave and competent men.  Of the two Tom had the more dash, but
perhaps owing to a European strain of blood Jerry was the cooler
and the more dogged.  Soon I became very friendly with them, but
Hans looked upon them suspiciously, at any rate at first, I think
because he was jealous.

These gun-bearers were well paid, according to the rate of that
day; still, as they had come with me to hunt elephants and not to
make long journeys of exploration, I thought it right to explain to
them my change of plans and to give them the opportunity of
returning to the coast with the ivory if they wished.

Tom said at once that he would go on with me to the end of the
journey, whatever it might be, for he was a born adventurer with
that touch of a mystic in him which I have observed to be not
uncommon among such Abyssinians as I have met.  Jerry, more
cautious, began to talk about his wife, from whom it appeared he
was separated, and his little daughter who was at a Mission school,
which caused Hans, who was present, to make some sarcastic remark
about "family men", who, he said, should stop at home and nurse the
babies.  This caused Jerry to fire up and say that he would come
too and that Hans would see which of them wished to nurse babies
before all was done.

When the matter was settled I thanked them both and told them that
Kaneke had given me a hundred pounds in gold, a sum that, in view
of the dangers of the trip, I proposed to divide into three parts,
one for each of them and one for Hans.  Now they thanked me warmly,
only Jerry remarked that he thought it probable he would never live
to earn his third, for which he was sorry as it would have been an
endowment for his little daughter.

"You are mistaken," I said.  "I propose to give you this money now,
trusting to the honour of you both to stick to me to the end, so
that if there is anyone in whom you put sufficient faith, among
those who are going to the coast with the ivory,"--for this was
before the caravan had started--"you can send it to your friends in
his charge."  They were much astonished and, I could see, touched,
swearing, both of them, Tom who was a Protestant by God, and Jerry
by the Virgin Mary, that they would never desert me, but would see
the business through to the end, whatever it might be.  When they
had finished their protestations I turned to Hans, who all this
while had stood by twirling his hat with a superior smile upon his
ugly little face, and asked him if he did not thank me for his
share.

"No, Baas.  I am not going to take the money, so why should I thank
you for nothing?  I am not a hired man like these two hunters.  I
am the Baas's guardian appointed to look after him by his reverend
father, and when I want anything of the Baas, I take it as a
guardian has a right to do."

Then as he marched off I called after him in Dutch, which the
others did not understand:

"You are a jealous, ill-conditioned little begger, and I shall keep
your share for myself."  This I did until eventually he drew it a
long while afterwards.  I should add that besides Tom and Jerry I
had about twenty native bearers, who agreed, though very
doubtfully, to go on with me and carry the loads.

As the date fixed for our departure drew near, I observed that
Kaneke grew more and more nervous, though exactly of what he was
afraid I could not understand.  He summoned a meeting of the
headmen of his village, at which I was present, and explained that
he proposed to accompany me upon an elephant-shooting trip whence
we should return in due course.  This intimation was very ill
received, although he had added that they could elect one of their
number to act as father of the village during his absence.  They
said that the time was coming when they expected him to pray for
rain, and if he were not there to do so they would get none.

Here I should explain that the religion of these people was a
strange mixture between that of Mahomet and the superstitions of
the East Coast savages.  Indeed a man called Gaika, a truculent,
fierce-eyed fellow, not quite an Arab, for he had a dash of negroid
blood, leapt up and denounced him venomously, ostensibly because of
this proposed journey.

Kaneke, to my astonishment, remained very meek and calm, saying
that he would think the matter over and speak with them again,
after which the meeting broke up.

"What is at the back of all this?" I asked of Hans, who had been
present with me, when we were in our camp again.

"The Baas is very blind," he said.  "Does he not see that this
Gaika wishes to kill Kaneke and take his place?"

I pointed out that if it were so he ought to be glad to get rid of
him out of the town.

"Not so," answered Hans, "for they think he is really going to
gather men from other tribes where his name as a witch-doctor is
great, with whom he will return and put them all to death.  Baas,"
he added in a whisper, "they have a plan to kill Kaneke, whom they
both hate and fear, but they are not quite ready with their plan,
which is why they do not want him to go away."

"How do you know all this--through that woman?" I asked.

Hans nodded.

"Some of it, Baas.  The rest I picked up here and there when I
seemed to be asleep, or when I am asking that old fellow who is
called a Mullah to teach me the religion of Mahomet, which he
thinks I am going to adopt.  Yet, Baas, I sit in that mosque-hut of
his listening to his nonsense and telling him that my soul is
growing oh! so happy, and all the while I keep my ears open and
pick up lots of things.  For they think me very wise, Baas, and
tell me plenty which they would not trust to you."

I looked at Hans with disgust, mixed with admiration, reflecting
that without doubt he had got the hang of the business.  But I said
no more, for that place was a nest of spies.

That afternoon I had sent our porters on to a certain spot about
three miles away, together with the loads.  This I did because I
was afraid lest they should be corrupted and the goods stolen.  So
now only Hans, Tom, and Jerry remained with me in the town.

Next morning Hans brought me my coffee as usual and said in a
casual fashion:

"Baas, there is trouble.  Kaneke was seized while he was asleep
last night.  They broke into his house and tied him with ropes.  It
seems that yesterday afternoon he had a quarrel with one of them
and killed him with a blow of his fist, or with a stone that he
held in his hand, for he is strong as an ox."

I whistled and asked what was going to happen.

"They are going to try him for murder this morning, Baas, according
to their law, and they have sent to ask if you will be present at
the trial.  What shall I say, Baas?"

At first I was inclined to answer that I would have nothing to do
with the business, but on reflection I remembered that if I did so
it would be set down to fear; also that I had taken Kaneke's ivory
and gold and that it would be mean to desert him in his trouble.
So I sent an answer to say I would attend the trial with my
servants.

At the appointed hour we went accordingly, armed, all four of us,
and at the gate of the town were informed that the trial was to
take place at the Tree of Council, which, it will be remembered,
stood outside the village.  So thither we marched and on arrival
found all the population of the place, numbering perhaps three or
four hundred people, assembled around the tree but outside of its
shadow.  In that shadow sat about a dozen white-robed men, elders,
I suppose, whom I took to be the judges, some of them on the ground
and some on stools.

As we advanced through the crowd towards them they stared
doubtfully at our rifles, but in the end I was given a seat on the
right of the Court, if so it may be called, but at a little
distance, while my three retainers stood behind me.  We were not
spoken to, nor did we speak.  Presently the crowd parted, leaving
an open lane up which marched Kaneke with his hands bound behind
his back, guarded by six men armed with spears.  I noted that all
looked upon him coldly as he went by.  To judge by their faces he
had not a friend among them.

Finally he was placed in such a position that he had the judges,
who sat with their backs to the trunk of the tree, in front of him,
with myself on his right, and the audience on his left.  There he
stood quietly, a fine and striking figure notwithstanding his
bonds, taller by a head than any of that company.  Somehow he
reminded me of Samson bound and being led in to be mocked by the
Philistines, so much so that I wondered where Delilah might be.
Then I remembered Hans' tale of the jealous wife and thought that I
knew--which I didn't.  He rolled his big eyes about him, taking in
everything.  Presently they fell upon me, to whom he bowed.  Of his
judges he took no notice at all, or, for the matter of that, of the
people either.

The "Mullah man", as Hans called the priest, opened the proceedings
with some kind of prayer and many genuflexions.  Then Gaika, who
appeared to act as Attorney General and Chief Justice rolled into
one, set out the case at considerable length and with much venom.
He narrated that Kaneke was a slave belonging to some strange
people, who by murder many years before, and cunning, had acquired
authority over them.  Then he proceeded to detail all his crimes as
a ruler which, if he could be believed, were black indeed.  Among
them were cruelty, oppression, theft, robbery of women, and I know
not what besides.

These were followed by a string of offences of another class:
necromancy which was against the law of the Prophet, bewitchments,
raising of spirits, breaches of the law of Ramadan, betrayal of the
Faith by one who was its secret enemy, worship of strange gods or
devils, drinking of spirituous liquors, plottings with their
enemies against the people, midnight sacrifice of lambs and infants
to the stars, and so forth.  Lastly came the immediate charge, that
of the murder of an elder on the previous day.  For all of these
crimes Gaika declared the slave and usurper Kaneke to be worthy of
death.

Having settled his hash in this fashion, he sat down and called
upon the prisoner to plead.

Kaneke answered in a resonant voice that struck me, and I think all
present, as powerful and impressive.

"To what purpose is it that I should plead," he said, "seeing that
my chief judge and enemy has already declared me guilty of more
crimes than anyone could commit if he lived for a hundred years?
Still, letting the rest be, I will say that I am guilty of one
thing, namely of killing a man yesterday in a quarrel, in order to
prevent him from stabbing me, though it is true that I did not mean
to kill him, but only to fell him to the ground; so that it was
Allah who killed him, not I.  Now I will tell you, O people, why I
am put upon my trial here before you, I who have lifted you up from
nothingness into a state of wealth and power.

"It is that yonder Gaika may take my place as your headman.  Good.
He is welcome to my place.  Know that I weary of ruling over you
and protecting you.  What more need I say?  It is enough.  For a
long while you have plotted to kill me.  Now let me go my way, and
go you yours."

"It is not enough," shouted Gaika.  "You, O Kaneke, say that you
would accompany the white hunter, Macumazahn yonder, to shoot
elephants.  It is a lie.  You go to raise against us the tribes to
the north who have a quarrel with us from our father's time, saying
that these seized their young people and sold them as slaves.  We
know that it is your plan and it is for that reason that for years
we have never allowed you to leave our town.  Nor shall you leave
it now.  Nay, you shall stay here for ever while your spirit dwells
in hell, where wizards go."

He ceased, and from the audience rose a murmur of applause.
Whatever his good qualities might be--if he had any--evidently
Kaneke was not popular among his flock.  As the prisoner made no
answer, Gaika went on, addressing the other judges thus:

"My brothers, you have heard.  To call witnesses is needless, since
some of you saw this Kaneke murder our brother yesterday.  Is he
guilty of this and other crimes?"

"He is guilty," they answered, speaking all together.

"Then what should be his punishment?"

"Death," they answered, again speaking all together, while the
audience echoed the word "Death".

"Kaneke," shouted Gaika in triumph, "you are doomed to die.  Not
one among these hundreds asks for mercy on you; no, not even the
women.  Nor have you any children to plead for you, since
doubtless, being a magician, you slew them unborn lest they should
grow up to kill you.  Yet according to the law it is not lawful
that you should be despatched at once.  Therefore we send you back
to your own house under guard, that there you may pray to Allah and
His Prophet for forgiveness of your sins.  Tomorrow at the dawn you
shall be brought back here and beaten to death with clubs, that we
may not shed your blood.  Have you heard and do you understand?"

Then at length Kaneke spoke again.  Showing no fear, he spoke
quietly, almost indifferently, yet in so clear a voice that none
could miss a word, saying in the midst of a deep silence:

"O Gaika, son of a dog, and all the rest of you, sons and daughters
of dogs, I hear and I understand.  So tomorrow you would beat me to
death with clubs.  It may happen or it may not, but if I know I
shall not tell you.  Still, listen to the last wisdom that you
shall hear from my lips.  You are right when you say that I am a
magician.  It is so, and as such I have foreknowledge of the
future.  I call down a curse on you all.  Let Allah defend you if
he can, and will, and Mahomet make prayer for you.  This is the
curse: a great sickness shall fall on you; I think it will begin
tonight.  I think that some who are already sick are seated
yonder," and he nodded towards the crowd, "although they know it
not.  Yes, they began to be sick a minute ago, when the words of
cursing left my lips" (here there was a sensation among the
audience, every one of them staring at his neighbour).  "Most of
you will die of this sickness because after I am gone there will be
none to doctor you.  The rest will flee away.  They will scatter
like goats without a herd.  They will be taken by those whose sons
and daughters you used to steal, and become slaves and die as
slaves."

Then he turned towards me and added, "Farewell, Lord Macumazahn.
If it is fated that in flesh I cannot guide you on your journey to
the place whither you would go, yet fear not, for my spirit will
guide you and when you are come there safely, then give a message
from me to one of whom I have spoken to you, which message shall be
delivered to you, perhaps in the night hours when you are asleep.
I do not ask you to lift your gun and shoot this rogue," and he
nodded towards Gaika, "because you are but one and would be
overwhelmed with your servants.  Nay, I only ask you to hearken to
the message when it comes and to do what it bids you."

Not knowing what to say I made no answer to this peculiar appeal,
although Hans, to judge by his mumblings and fidgets, appeared to
wish me to say something.  As I still declined, with his usual
impertinence he took it upon himself to act as my spokesmen, saying
in his debased Arabic:

"The great lord, my master, bids me inform you, Kaneke, that he is
sorry you are going to be killed.  He tells me to say also that, if
you are killed and become a spook, he begs that you will keep away
from him, as spooks, especially of those who are magicians and have
been put to death for their evil deeds, are not nice company for
anyone."

When I heard this, indignation took away my breath, but before I
could speak a word Gaika addressed me fiercely, crying out:

"White Wanderer, we believe that you are in league with this evil-
doer and plot mischief against us.  Get out of our town at once,
lest you share his fate."

Now this unprovoked assault made me furious, and I answered in the
first words that came to my tongue:

"Who are you that tell lies and dare to talk to me of Fate?  Let my
fate be, fellow, and have a care for your own, which perhaps is
nearer than you think."

Little did I guess when I spoke thus, at hazard as it seemed, that
very soon doom would overtake this ruffian, and by my hand.  Are we
sometimes filled with the spirit of prophecy, I wonder?  Or do we,
perhaps, know everything on our inmost souls whence now and again
bursts a rush of buried truth?

After this the company broke up in confusion.  Kaneke was hustled
away by his guards; men who waved their spears in a threatening
fashion advanced upon us and were so insolent that at last I looked
round and lifted the rifle I carried--I remember that it was one of
the first Winchester repeaters of a sort that carried five
cartridges.  Thereon they fell back and we were allowed to regain
our huts in peace.

I did not stop there long.  Nearly all our gear had been sent
forward with the bearers; indeed, no more of it remained than the
four of us could carry ourselves, although the arrangement was that
some of Kaneke's men should do us this service on the morrow.  As
this was now out of the question we loaded ourselves, also a donkey
that I possessed, with blankets, guns, cooking-pots, ammunition,
and I know not what besides, and started, I riding on the donkey
and looking, as I have since reflected, like the White Knight in
Alice in Wonderland.

Then, keeping clear of the town, we trekked for the place where our
bearers were encamped, reaching it unmolested about an hour later.
This spot, chosen by myself, was on the lowest slope of a steep
hill covered with thorn trees, through which ran a little stream
from a spring higher up the slope.  The first thing I did was to
cut down a number of these thorns and drag them together into a
fence, making what is called a boma in that part of Africa, behind
which we could protect ourselves if necessary.  By the time that
this was done and my tent was pitched, it was late in the
afternoon.  Feeling tired, more, I think, from anxiety than
exertion, I lay down and after musing for a while upon the fate of
the unfortunate Kaneke and wishing, much as I disliked the man,
that I could save him from a doom I believed to be unjust, which
seemed impossible, I fell asleep, as I can do at any time.  In my
sleep a curious dream came to me, which after all was not
wonderful, seeing how my mind was occupied.

I dreamed that Kaneke spoke to me, though I could not see him, but
distinctly I heard, or seemed to hear, his voice saying:

"Follow the woman.  Do what the woman tells you, and you will save
me."

Twice I heard this, and then I do not know how long afterwards, I
woke up, or rather was awakened by Hans setting some food upon the
camp table near the tent.  On going out I saw that it was night,
for the full moon was just rising and already giving so clear a
light in a cloudless sky, that I could see to eat without the aid
of a lamp.

"Hans," I said presently, "what did Kaneke mean when he talked of a
great sickness that was about to smite the town?"

"The Baas observes little," answered Hans.  "Did he notice nothing
among the people of that caravan which took away the ivory?"

"Yes, I noticed that they were a dirty lot and smelt so much that I
kept clear of them."

"If the Baas had come a little closer, he would have seen that two
or three of them had pimples coming all over their faces."

"Small-pox?" I suggested.

"Yes, Baas, small-pox, for I have seen it before.  Also, they had
been mixing with the people of the town who have not had small-pox
for many years, for Kaneke kept it away by his charms, or stopped
it when it broke out.  Baas, this time he did not keep it away, and
quite a number of the townspeople, as I heard this morning, are
feeling bad, with sore throats and headaches, Baas.  Kaneke knew
all this as well as I do and that is why he talked about a
pestilence.  It is easy to prophesy when one knows, Baas."

"Is it easy to send dreams, Hans?" I asked; then before he could
answer I told him of the words I had seemed to hear in my sleep.

For a moment I caught sight of a look of astonishment upon Hans'
wrinkled and impassive countenance.  Then he answered in an
unconcerned fashion:

"I dare say, Baas, if one knows how.  Or perhaps Kaneke sent no
dream.  Perhaps the Baas heard me and the woman talking together,
for she is here and waiting to see the Baas after he has eaten."



CHAPTER IV

WHITE-MOUSE


"A woman!" I said, springing up.  "What woman?"

"Kaneke's jealous wife who likes me so much, she whom they call
White-Mouse because she is so quick and silent, I suppose.  She has
a plan to save that bull of a man, just as the dream said, or you
overheard."

"Then she must be fond of him after all, Hans."

"I suppose so, Baas.  Or perhaps she thinks she will get him back
again now, because some other woman, of whom she is jealous, has
got small-pox, of which she hopes that she will die, or become very
ugly.  At least that is her tale, Baas."

"I will see her at once," I said.

"Best eat your supper first, Baas; it is always wise to keep women
waiting a while, for that makes them think more of you."

Knowing that Hans always had a reason for what he said, even when
he seemed to be talking the most arrant nonsense, I took his
advice.

When I had finished my food he led me to a patch of bush that grew
round a pool at the foot of the slope about two hundred yards from
the camp.  We entered and presently from beneath a tree a little
woman glided out so silently that she might have been a ghost, and
stood still with the moonlight falling on her white robes.  She
threw back a hood that covered her head, revealing her face, which
was refined and in its way very pretty; also so fair for an Arab
that I thought she must have European blood in her.  She looked at
me a little while, searching my face with her dark, appealing eyes,
then suddenly threw herself on her knees, took my hand, and kissed
it.

"That will do," I said, lifting her up.  "What do you want with
me?"

"Lord," she said in Arabic, speaking in a low, impassioned voice,
"I am that slave of Kaneke whom here they call White-Mouse, though
elsewhere I have another name.  Although he has treated me badly,
for he who loves a Shadow cares for no woman, his spell is still
upon me.  Therefore I would pray you to save him if you can."

"Me!"

"Yes, Lord, you."  Then as I said nothing she went on quickly, "I
know that you white men do not work without pay, and I have nothing
to give you, except myself.  I will be a good servant to you and
Kaneke will not mind.  He has told me to go where I will."

"Don't be frightened, Baas," whispered Hans into my ear in Dutch.
"When she says you--she must mean me."

I hit him in the middle with the point of my elbow, which stopped
his breath.  Then I said:

"Set out your plan, White-Mouse, if you have one.  But please
understand that I do not want you as a servant."

"Then you can drive me away, Lord, for if you do my will, your
slave I shall be till death.  Only one thing do I ask, that you do
not give me to that little yellow monkey, or to either of your
hunters."

"How well she acts!" grunted the unconquered Hans behind me.

"The plan, the plan," I said.

"Lord, it is this: there is a path up the cliff on the crest of
which is the house of Kaneke, wherein he lies bound awaiting death
at the rising of the morrow's sun.  It is known to few; indeed only
to Kaneke and myself.  I will lead you with your two hunters and
this yellow one up that path and into Kaneke's house.  There, if it
be needful, you can deal with those who guard him--there are but
three of them, for the rest watch without the fence--and get him
away down the cliff."

"This is nonsense," I said.  "I examined that cliff when I visited
Kaneke.  There is no fence upon its edge because it overhangs in
such a fashion that without long ropes, such as we have not got,
made fast above, it cannot be climbed or descended."

"It seems to do so, Lord, but beneath its overhanging crest there
is a hole, which hole leads into a tunnel.  This tunnel ends
beneath the pavement of Kaneke's house just in front of where he
sits to watch the stars.  Do you understand, Lord?"

I nodded, for I knew that she meant the stoep where Kaneke and I
had drunk brandy and water together.

"The pavement is solid," I said.  "How does one pass through it?"

"A block of the hard floor, which is made of lime and other things
so that it is like stone, can be moved from beneath.  I have its
secret, Lord.  That is all.  Will you come with me now?  The
beginning of the gorge is not very far from this place which, as
you know, by any other road is a long way from the town.  Therefore
we need not start yet because I do not wish to reach the house
until two hours after midnight, when all men are asleep, except
those who watch the sick in the town, where a pestilence has broken
out, as Kaneke foretold, and these will take little heed if they
hear a noise."

"No, I won't," I answered firmly.  "This is a mad business.  Why
should I give my life and those of my servants to try to save
Kaneke, whom I have only known for a week or two and who may be all
that his enemies say?"

She considered the point, then answered:

"Because he alone can guide you to that hidden place whither you
wish to go."

"I don't wish to go anywhere in particular," I replied testily;
"unless it is back to Zanzibar."

Again she considered, and said:

"Because you have taken Kaneke's ivory and gold, Lord."

At this I winced a little and then replied:

"I took the ivory and gold in payment for services to be rendered
to Kaneke, if he could accompany me upon a certain journey, and he
paid, asking nothing in return if he could not do so.  Through no
fault of mine he is unable to come, and therefore the bargain is at
an end."

"That is well said, Lord, in the white man's merchant-fashion.  Now
I have another reason to which I think any man will listen.  You
should help Kaneke because I, your slave, who am a woman young and
fair, pray you to do so."

"Ah! she is clever; she knows the Baas," I heard Hans mutter
reflectively, words that hardened my heart and caused me to reply:

"Not for the sake of any woman in Africa, nor of all of them put
together, would I do what you ask, White-Mouse.  Do you take me for
a madman?"

She laughed a little in a dreary fashion and answered:

"Indeed I do not, who see that it is I who am mad.  Hearken, Lord:
like others I have heard tales of Macumazahn.  I have heard that he
is generous and great-hearted; one who never goes back upon his
word, a staff to lean on in the hour of trouble, a man who does not
refuse the prayer of those in distress; brave too, and a lover of
adventure if a good cause may be served, a great one whom it
pleases to pretend to be small.  All these things I have heard from
that yellow man, and others; yes, and from Kaneke himself, and
watching from afar, although you never knew I did so, I have judged
these stories to be true.  Now I see that I am mistaken.  This lord
Macumazahn is as are other white traders, neither better nor worse.
So it is finished.  Unaided I am not able to save Kaneke, as by my
spirit I have sworn that I would.  Therefore I pray your pardon,
Lord, who have put you to trouble, and here before your eyes will
end all, that I may go to make report of this business to those I
serve far away."

While I stared at her, wondering what she meant, also how much
truth there was in all this mysterious tale, suddenly she drew a
knife from her girdle, and tearing open her robe, lifted it above
her bared breast.  I sprang and seized her wrist.

"You must love this man very much!" I exclaimed, more, I think, to
myself than to her.

"You are mistaken, Lord," she answered, with her strange little
laugh.  "I do not love him; indeed I think I hate him who have
never found one whom I could love--as yet.  Still, for a while he
is my master, also I have sworn to hold him safe by certain oaths
that may not be broken and--I keep my word, as I must do or perish
everlastingly."

For a little while there was silence between us.  Never can I
forget the strangeness of that scene.  The patch of bush by the
edge of the pool, the little open space where the bright moonlight
fell, and standing full in that moonlight which shone upon the
whiteness of her rounded breast, this small, elfin-faced woman with
the dark eyes and curling hair, a knife in her raised right hand.

Then myself, much perplexed and agitated, rather a ridiculous
figure, as I suspect, clasping her wrist to prevent that knife from
falling; and in the background upon the edge of the shadow,
sardonic, his face alight with the age-old wisdom of the wild man
who had eaten of the tree of Knowledge, interested and yet
indifferent, hideous and yet lovable--the Hottentot, Hans.  And the
look upon that beautiful woman's face, for in its way it was
beautiful, or at any rate most attractive, the inscrutable look,
suggestive of secrets, of mysteries even--oh! I say I shall never
forget it all.

As we stood thus facing each other like people in a scene of a
play, a thought came to me, this thought--if that woman was
prepared to die because she had failed in an effort to save from
death the man whom she declared she hated (why was she prepared to
die and why did she hate him? I wondered), ought I not to try to
save her even at some personal risk to myself?  Also if I could,
ought I not to help Kaneke, whose goods I had taken?  Certainly it
was impossible to allow her to immolate herself in this fashion
before my eyes.  I might take away her knife, but if I did she
could find a second; also there were many other roads to self-
destruction by which she might travel.

"Give me that dagger," I said, "and let us talk."

She unclasped her hand and it fell to the ground.  I set my foot
upon it and loosed her.

"Listen," I went on.  "I am minded to do what you wish if I can."

"Yes, Lord, already I have read that in your face," she replied,
smiling faintly.

"But, White-Mouse," I continued, "I am not the only one concerned.
I cannot undertake this business alone.  Others must risk their
lives as well.  Hans here, for instance, and I suppose the two
hunters.  I cannot lay any commands upon them in such a matter and
I do not know if they will come of their own will."

She turned and looked at the Hottentot, a question in her eyes.
Hans fidgeted under her gaze, then he spat upon the ground and
said:

"If the Baas goes I think that the Baas will be a fool.  Still,
where the Baas goes, there I must go also, not to pull Kaneke out
of a trap, but because I promised the Baas's reverend father that I
would do so.  As for those other men I cannot say.  I think they
will answer, 'No, thank you', but if they reply, 'Oh yes', then I
believe that we should be better without them, because they are so
stupid and think so much about their souls that they would be sure
to grow frightened at the wrong time, or to make a noise and bring
us all to trouble.  In a hole such as White-Mouse talks of, two men
are better than four.  Also it would be wiser to send Tom and Jerry
on with the porters, for should we drag Kaneke out of this hole,
those Arabs will try to follow and drag him back, and the farther
off we are with the stores the safer we shall be.  Porters go
slowly, so we can catch them up, Baas."

"You hear," I said to the woman.  "What is your word?"

"This yellow one, whom I thought but a vain fool, is wise--for
once, Lord.  What has to be done I cannot do alone, for there must
be some to deal with the guards and hold the mouth of the hole
while I cut Kaneke's bonds.  Yet for this business two will serve
as well as four; indeed better, for they can get back into the
tunnel more quickly.  Therefore I say do as the yellow man says.
Order your hunters to march on with the porters and the stores as
long before the break of day as the men will move.  If you escape
with Kaneke, you can run upon their spoor and join them much faster
than will the Arabs who must go round.  Then if the Arabs overtake
you, they will be tired and you can beat them off with your guns."

"And what will you do?" I asked curiously, for I noticed that she
left herself out of the plan.

"Oh! I do not know," she answered, with another of her strange
smiles.  "Lord, have I not said that I am your slave?  Doubtless in
this fashion or in that I shall follow my master as a slave should,
or perhaps I shall go before him."

Now I remembered that she had spoken of Kaneke as her "master", and
presumed that she alluded to him, although in the hyperbole of her
people she spoke of herself as my slave.  However, I did not pursue
the subject, which at the time interested me little, who had more
important matters to consider.  Indeed, I set myself to extract
details from her which I need not enumerate, and to examine her
scheme of rescue.

When I had learned all I could, bidding the woman, White-Mouse, to
remain hidden, I went back to the camp with Hans and sent for Tom
and Jerry.  In as careless a fashion as I could, I told them that
with Hans I must return towards the town to speak with a man who
had promised to meet me secretly upon a matter of importance.  Then
I ordered them to rouse the porters two hours before dawn and to
march on with them towards a certain hill which we had all visited
together upon a little shooting-expedition I had made while we were
at Kaneke's town, to kill duiker buck and pauw, as we called
bustards, for a change of food.

Although I could see that they were troubled, Tom and Jerry said
that they would obey my instructions and, that there should be no
mistake, fetched the headman of the porters, that I might repeat
them to him, which I did.  This done, they went away to sleep, Tom
saying, as he bade me good night, that he would have preferred to
accompany me back to the town where he thought I might come into
danger.  I thanked him, remarking that I was quite safe.  So we
parted; I wondering whether I should ever see them again and what
they would do if I returned no more.  Travel back to the coast,
probably, and become rich according to their ideas by selling the
guns and goods.

Then I lay down to rest for a while, making Hans do likewise.

At the appointed time I woke from my doze, as I can always do, and
left the tent to find Hans awaiting me without and checking such
things as we must carry.  These were few--a water-bottle filled
with cold tea, a small flask of spirits, a strip or two of biltong
or dried meat in case we should need food, and a few yards of thin
cord.  For arms I took a Winchester repeater and a pocketful of
cartridges, also a revolver and a sharp butcher's knife in a
sheath.  Hans had no rifle, but carried two revolvers and a knife,
also a couple of candles and a box of matches.

Having made sure that we had collected everything and packed our
other belongings to be cared for by Tom and Jerry as arranged, we
slipped away to the patch of bush by the pool, taking with us extra
food, for we remembered that White-Mouse must be hungry.  We did
not find her at once, whereon Hans explained to me that having made
fools of us, doubtless she had run away.  While he was still
talking I saw her leaning against the trunk of a tree.  Or rather I
saw her eyes, which at first I took for those of some animal, for
she was no longer a white figure, but a black, having covered her
white robe with a thin dark garment she had brought with her in a
bundle.  I offered her the food, but she shook her head, saying:

"Nay, I eat no more"--words which frightened me a little.

Indeed, altogether there was something fateful and alarming about
this woman.  She glanced at the moon, then whispered:

"Lord, it is time to depart.  Be pleased to follow me and do not
smoke, or make fire, or talk too loud."

So off she went, gliding ahead like a shadow, while we marched
after, I with a doubting heart.  Our road ran along the bank of a
little stream, of which the spring I have spoken of seemed to be
the source, that wended its way through thin bush to the mouth of
the gorge, which here sloped up to the high lands.  Doubtless it
was this stream, once a primeval torrent, that in the course of
thousands of years dug out this cleft in the bosom of the earth.
As we went Hans murmured his reflections into my ear.

"This is a strange journey, Baas, made at night, when we ought to
be asleep.  I wonder that the Baas should have undertaken it.  I
think, although he does not know it, he would never have done so
had not White-Mouse been so pretty.  Perhaps the Baas has noted
that when a woman asks for anything of a man, generally he finds it
impossible to give it her if she be old and ugly, and quite
possible if she is young and very pretty."

"Rubbish!" I answered.  "I gave way because, if I had not, White-
Mouse would have killed herself, and for no other reason."

"Yes, but if she had been a hideous old grandmother, with a black
face wrinkled like that of the Baas, he would not have cared
whether she killed herself or not.  For who wants a slave with a
skin like the hide of a buck that has lain for three months in the
sun and rain?"

"As I have told you, I want no slave, Hans," I answered
indignantly.

"Ah! so the Baas says now, but sometimes he changes his mind.  Thus
a little while ago the Baas swore that never, never would he go up
the hole to try to save Kaneke.  And yet we are taking this long
walk with lions about and God knows what at the end of it, to do
what the Baas said could not be done.  Why, then, did he change his
mind, unless it is because that woman is such a pretty mouse with
big eyes and a queer smile and not an ugly old yellow-toothed rat?
Also, is he sure that all this story of hers is true?  For my part
I don't believe it, and even doubt whether she is Kaneke's wife as
she pretended to me."

At this moment we began to enter the gorge, and our guide turned
and laid her finger on her lips in token that we must be silent.
Of this I was very glad, for really Hans' jeers were intolerable.

Very soon we descended into the cleft itself, which proved to be a
huge donga with sheer sides quite two hundred feet high where it
was deepest.  The bottom along which the shrunken river ran was
strewn with boulders washed from the cliffs above, that made
progress slow and difficult.  Especially was this so as we
scrambled down the deeps, where often little of the moonlight
reached us, and sometimes even the sky was hidden by tropical
shrubs and tall palms and grasses which grew along the edge of the
torrent bed.

Fortunately the journey was not very long, for after about half an
hour of this break-back work White-Mouse halted.

"Here is the place," she whispered.  "Listen.  You can hear the
dogs in the town above."

It was true; I could, and the sound of those brutes howling at the
moon, as they do at night in Africa, was eerie enough in our
depressing circumstances.

"This is the place," she repeated, then after studying the sky a
while, added:  "Presently will be the time.  Meanwhile let us rest,
for we shall need all our strength."

Motioning to Hans to remain where he was, she led me to a flat
stone out of his hearing, on which I sat down, while she crouched
on the ground at my feet, native fashion, a little black ball in
the shadow with the faint light gleaming upon a white patch that I
knew to be her face.

"Lord," she said, "you go upon a dangerous business, yet I say to
you, fear nothing for yourself or the yellow man."

"Why?  I fear much."

"Lord, those who have to do with Kaneke's people, as I have from a
child, catch something of their wisdom and mind; also I too have
been taught to read the stars he worships."

"So our friend is an astrologer," thought I to myself.  That is new
to me in Africa, but aloud I said:

"Well, what wisdom have you caught or read in the stars?"

"Only that you are both safe, Lord, now and on the journey you will
make with Kaneke; yes, and for many years after."

"I am glad to hear it," I remarked somewhat sarcastically, though
in my heart I was cheered, as even the most instructed and
civilized of us are when anyone speaks words of good omen.  Also in
that darksome place at the dead of night, on the edge of a
desperate adventure, a little comfort went a long way, for when the
bread is dry some butter is better than none at all, as Hans used
to observe.

"Lord, a word more and I cease to trouble you.  Do you believe in
blessings, Lord?"

"Oh yes, White-Mouse, though I don't see any about me just now."

"You are wrong, Lord; I see them.  They are thick upon your head,
they shall be with you through life, and afterwards thousands shall
love you.  Among them is that blessing which I lay upon you."

"You are very kind, I am sure, White-Mouse.  But as you say you
hate this Kaneke I don't understand why you should bless me for
what I am trying to do."

"No, Lord, and perhaps while you live you never will.  Yet I would
have you know one thing.  I am not Kaneke's jealous wife as I made
yonder yellow one believe, or his wife at all, or any man's, any
more than my name is White-Mouse.  Lord, you go to seek a wonderful
one whom I serve, and I think that you will find her far away.
Perhaps I shall be there in her company, and in helping her you
will again help me.  Now it is time to be at our work."

Then she took my hand and kissed it.  I remember that her kiss felt
like a butterfly alighting on my flesh, and that her breath was
wonderfully sweet.  Next she beckoned to Hans, who, devoured by
curiosity, was glowering at us from a distance, and led the pair of
us a little way up the cliff which sloped at its bottom because of
debris washed up by the torrent in ancient days, or perhaps fallen
from above.  We came to some bushes, in the midst of which lay a
large boulder.  Here she halted and spoke to us in a whisper,
saying:

"On the farther side of that stone is the mouth of the cleft.  If
you look you will see that the crest of the cliff overhangs its
topmost part by many feet, so that it is impossible for it to be
ascended or descended, even with any rope the Arabs have, because
the height is too great.  As I have told you, this tunnel, or
waterway, runs to the top for the most part underground, though
here and there it is open to the sky.  After it reaches that sheer
face of the cliff which the stone lip overhangs, the passage
pierces the solid rock and is very steep.  Here two lamps are hid
which I will light with the little fire sticks that your servant
has given to me.  One lamp must be left as a guide in the descent
when you return; the other I, who go first, will carry to show you
where to set your feet.  Do you understand, Lord?"

"Yes, but what I want to know is, what happens when we reach the
top of the tunnel?"

"Lord, as I have said, at its head the hole is closed with a moving
block that seems to be part of the floor of the courtyard of
Kaneke's house.  I have its secret and can cause it to open, which
I will do after I have hidden the lamp.  Then we must creep into
the courtyard.  Kaneke, as I believe, is on the stoep of the house
with his hands tied behind him, and bound with a rope round his
middle to a post that supports the roof of the stoep.  It may be,
however, that he is in one of the rooms of the house, in which case
our task will be difficult--"

"Very difficult," I interrupted with a groan.

"My hope is," she went on, taking no heed of my words, "that those
who guard him will be asleep, or perhaps drunk, for doubtless they
will have found the white man's drink that Kaneke keeps in the
house, which they love, all of them, although it is forbidden by
their law.  Or Kaneke himself may have told them where it is and
begged them to get him some of it.  If so, I shall cut his bonds so
that he may come to the mouth of the hole and climb into it and
thus escape."

"And if they are awake and sober--as they ought to be?" I said.

"Then, Lord, you and the yellow man must play your part; it is not
for me to tell you what it is," she answered dryly.  "There will
not be many of these men set to keep one who is bound, and the most
of the guard watch outside the fence, thinking that if any rescue
is attempted, it will be from the town.  Now I have told you all,
so let us start."

Well, start we did; White-Mouse, going first, went round the
boulder and pulled aside some loose stones, revealing an orifice,
into which we crept after her, Hans nipping in before me.  For some
way we crawled in the dark up a slope of rock.  Then, as she had
said would be the case, light reached us from the sky because here
the cleft was open.  Indeed, there were two or three of these
alternating lengths of darkness and light.

After ten minutes or so of this climbing White-Mouse halted and
whispered:

"Now the real tunnel begins.  Rest a while, for it is steep."

I obeyed with gratitude.  Presently there was the sound of a match
being struck.  She had found the lamp, an earthenware affair filled
with palm-oil such as the Arabs used in those days, and lit it.
After the darkness its light seemed dazzling.  By it I saw a round
hole running upwards almost perpendicularly; it was the tunnel
which she had told us pierced the lip of solid cliff that overhung
the gorge.  To all appearance it had been made by man, though a
long while ago.  Perhaps it was a mine-shaft, hollowed by primeval
metal-workers; after all, these are common in Africa, where I have
seen many of them in Matabele Land.

At any rate, on its walls I noted gleaming specks that I took to be
ore of some sort, but of course this guess may be quite wrong.  Up
this shaft ran a kind of ladder with little landing-places at
intervals, made by niches cut in the rock to give foot- and hand-
holds.  There was a rope also that must have been fastened to
something above, which, I may add, looked to me rather rotten, as
though it had been there a long while.  My heart sank as I
contemplated it and the niches, and most heartily did I wish myself
anywhere else than in that beastly hole.  However, it was no use
showing fear; there was nothing to be done except go through with
the business, so I held my tongue, though I heard Hans praying, or
cursing, or both, in front of me.

"Forward now.  Have no fear," whispered our guide.  "Set your hands
and feet in the niches as I do; they will not break away, and the
rope is stronger than it looks."

Then she slung or strapped to her back the second lamp, which I
forgot to say she had lit also and placed in a kind of basket so
made that it could be used in this fashion without setting fire to
its bearer, thus giving us light whereby to climb, and sprang at
the face of the rock.  Up she went with an extraordinary
nimbleness, which caused me to reflect in an inconsequent fashion
that she was well named Mouse, a creature that can run up a wall.

We followed as best we could, clasping the rotten-looking rope,
which seemed to be made of twisted buffalo-hide, with our right
hands and the niches in which we must afterwards set our feet with
our left.  I think that rope was the greatest terror of this
horrible journey; though, as we were destined to prove, White-Mouse
was right when she said that it was stronger than it looked--very
strong, in truth, though this we did not know at the time.

No, not the greatest, for even worse than the rope, that is when we
had ascended a long way, was the lamp which we had left burning at
the bottom of the hole, because the spark of light it gave showed
what a terrible distance there was to fall if one made a mistake.
I only looked at it once, or at most twice; it frightened me too
much.  Another minor trouble in my case was my Winchester repeater
that was slung upon my back, of which the strap cut my shoulder and
the lock rubbed my spine.  Much did I regret that I had not
followed the example of Hans and left it behind.

We reached the first landing-place and rested.  After eyeing me
with some anxiety, for doubtless my face showed trepidation, Hans,
I imagine to divert my mind, took the chance to deliver a little
homily.

"The Baas," he said, wiping the sweat from his face with the back
of his hand, "is very fond of helping people in trouble, a bad
habit of which I hope the Baas will break himself in future.  For
see what happens to those who are such fools.  Not even to help my
own father would I come into this hole again, especially as I don't
know who he was.  However, Baas," he added more cheerfully--for
secretly agreeing with Hans, I made no reply--"if this is an old
mine-shaft as I suppose, think how much worse it must have been for
the miners to climb up it with a hundred-pound bag of ore on their
backs, than it is for us; especially as they weren't Christians,
like you and me, Baas, and didn't know that they would go to heaven
if they tumbled off, like we do.  When one is fording a bad river
safely, Baas, as we are, it is always nice to remember that lots of
other people have been drowned in it."

Will it be believed that even then and there that little beast Hans
made me laugh, or at any rate smile, especially as I knew that his
cynicism was assumed and therefore could bring no ill luck on us?
For really Hans had the warmest of hearts.

Presently, off we went again for another spell of niches and
apparently rotten rope, and in due course came safely to the second
landing-place.  Here White-Mouse bade us wait a little.

Saying that she would return presently, she went up a third flight
of niches at great speed, and reaching yet another landing-place,
did something--we could not see what.

Then she returned, and her descent was strange to see.  Taking the
rope in both hands (afterwards we discovered that it was made fast
to a point or hook of stone on the third landing-place in such
fashion that it hung well clear of the face of the rock below), she
came down it hand over--or rather under--hand, sometimes setting
her foot into one of the niches, but more often swinging quite
clear.  She was wonderful to look on; her slight figure illumined
by the lantern on her back and surrounded by darkness, appeared
more like a spirit floating in mid-air than that of a woman.
Presently she stood beside us.

"Lord," she said, when she had rested a minute, "I have been to see
whether the catch of the stone which covers the mouth of the hole
is in order.  It works well and I have loosed it.  Now at a push
this stone, that like the rest of the courtyard is faced with lime
plaster, will swing upwards, for it is hung upon a bar of iron, and
remain on edge, leaving a space large enough for any man to climb
into the courtyard by the little ladder that is set upon the
landing-place.  Be careful, however, not to touch the stone when
you have passed the opening into the courtyard, for if so much as a
finger is laid upon it, it will swing to again and make itself
fast, cutting off retreat."

"Cannot it be opened from above?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes, Lord, if one knows how, which it is impossible to explain to
you except in the courtyard itself, as perhaps I shall have no time
or chance to do.  Still, do not be afraid, for I will fix it with a
wedge so that it cannot shut unless the wedge is pulled away.  Nay,
ask no more questions, for I have not time to answer them," she
went on impatiently, as I opened my mouth to speak.  "Have I not
told you that all will be well?  Follow me with a bold heart."

Then, as though to prevent the possibility of further conversation,
she went to the edge of the resting-place and began to climb, Hans
and I scrambling after her as before.  Of this ascent I remember
little, for my mind was so fixed upon what was to happen when we
reached the top that, dreadful as it was, it made small impression
on me.  Also by now I was growing more or less used to this
steeplejack work, and since I had seen the woman hanging on to it,
gained confidence in the rope.  The end of it was that we reached
the third landing-place in safety, being now, as I reckoned, quite
two hundred feet above the spot where the actual tunnel sprang from
the cleft which sometimes went underground and sometimes was open
to the sky.



CHAPTER V

THE RESCUE


When we had recovered breath White-Mouse unfastened the lantern
from her back and showed us a stout wooden ladder with broad rungs
almost resembling steps, which ran from the edge of the resting-
place to what looked like a solid roof, but really was the bottom
of the movable stone.

"Examine it well," she said, "and note that this resting-place is
not beneath the stone, but to the right of it.  Therefore I can
leave the lamp burning here that it may be ready for use in the
descent; for if the basket is set in front of the flame the light
will not show in the courtyard above."

This she proceeded to do, and it was then that I noted how the hide
rope was fastened to a hook-shaped point of rock at the edge of the
platform, also--which I did not like--that it was somewhat frayed
by this edge, although originally that length of it had been bound
round with grass and a piece of cloth.

Now we were in semi-darkness and my spirits sank proportionately.

"What are we to do, White-Mouse?" I asked.

"This, Lord.  I will go up the ladder and push open the stone, as I
told you.  Then I will climb into the courtyard and creep to the
stoep where I am sure Kaneke lies bound, hoping that there I may be
able to cut his cords without awakening those who guard him, who, I
trust, will be asleep, or drunk, or both.  You and Hans will follow
me through the hole and stand or kneel on either side of it with
your weapons ready.  If there is trouble you will use those
weapons, Lord, and kill any who strive to prevent the escape of
Kaneke."

Now my patience was exhausted, and I asked her:

"Why should I do this thing?  Why should I take the lives of men
with whom I have no quarrel in order to rescue Kaneke, and very
probably lose my own in the attempt?"

"First, because that is what you came here to do, Lord," she
answered quietly.  "Secondly, because it is necessary that Kaneke
should be saved in order that he may guide you, which he alone can
do, to a place where you will save others, and thus serve a certain
holy one against whom he has sinned in the past."

Now I remembered the story that this Kaneke had told me about a
mysterious woman who lived on an island in a lake whom he had
affronted, and answered:

"Oh yes, I have heard of her and believe nothing of the tale."

"Doubtless you are right not to believe the tale as Kaneke told it
to you, Lord.  Learn that once he tried to work bitter wrong to
that holy one, being bewitched by her beauty; yes, to do sacrilege
to our goddess."