Reflecting on the strange phantasies that weariness and excited nervescan summon to the mind in sleep, Smith made his way to the great doorsand waited in the shadow, praying earnestly that, although it was theMohammedan Sabbath, someone might visit the Museum to see that all waswell.

  As a matter of fact, someone did, and before he had been there aminute--a watchman going about his business. He unlocked the placecarelessly, looking over his shoulder at a kite fighting with twonesting crows. In an instant Smith, who was not minded to stop andanswer questions, had slipped past him and was gliding down the portico,from monument to monument, like a snake between boulders, still keepingin the shadow as he headed for the gates.

  The attendant caught sight of him and uttered a yell of fear; then,since it is not good to look upon an _afreet_, appearing from whence nomortal man could be, he turned his head away. When he looked again Smithwas through those gates and had mingled with the crowd in the streetbeyond.

  The sunshine was very pleasant to one who was conscious of havingcontracted a chill of the worst Egyptian order from long contact with adamp stone floor. Smith walked on through it towards his hotel--it wasShepheard's, and more than a mile away--making up a story as he wentto tell the hall-porter of how he had gone to dine at Mena House by thePyramids, missed the last tram, and stopped the night there.

  Whilst he was thus engaged his left hand struck somewhat sharply againstthe corner of the cigar-box in his pocket, that which contained therelic of the queen Ma-Mee. The pain caused him to glance at his fingersto see if they were injured, and to perceive on one of them the ring hewore. Surely, surely it was not the same that the Director-General hadgiven him! _That_ ring was engraved with the image of the god Bes.On _this_ was cut the cartouche of her Majesty Ma-mee! And he haddreamed--oh, he had dreamed----!

  To this day Smith is wondering whether, in the hurry of the moment, hemade a mistake as to which of those rings the Director-General had givenhim as part of his share of the spoil of the royal tomb he discoveredin the Valley of Queens. Afterwards Smith wrote to ask, but theDirector-General could only remember that he gave him one of the tworings, and assured him that that inscribed "_Bes Ank, Ank Bes_," waswith Ma-Mee's other jewels in the Gold Room of the Museum.

  Also Smith is wondering whether any other bronze figure of an oldEgyptian royalty shows so high a percentage of gold as, on analysis, thebroken image of Ma-Mee was proved to do. For had she not seemed to tellhim a tale of the melting of a golden chain when that effigy was cast?

  Was it all only a dream, or was it--something more--by day and by nighthe asks of Nothingness?

  But, be she near or far, no answer comes from the Queen Ma-Mee, whoseproud titles were "Her Majesty the Good God, the justified Dweller inOsiris; Daughter of Amen, Royal Heiress, Royal Sister, Royal Wife, RoyalMother; Lady of the Two Lands; Wearer of the Double Crown; of the WhiteCrown, of the Red Crown; Sweet Flower of Love, Beautiful Eternally."

  So, like the rest of us, Smith must wait to learn the truth concerningmany things, and more particularly as to which of those two circles ofancient gold the Director-General gave him yonder at Cairo.

  It seems but a little matter, yet it is more than all the worlds to him!

  To the astonishment of his colleagues in antiquarian research, Smith hasnever returned to Egypt. He explains to them that his health is quiterestored, and that he no longer needs this annual change to a moretemperate clime.

  Now, _which_ of the two royal rings did the Director-General return toSmith on the mummied hand of her late Majesty Ma-Mee?

  MAGEPA THE BUCK

  In a preface to a story of the early life of the late Allan Quatermain,known in Africa as Macumazahn, which has been published under the nameof "Marie," Mr. Curtis, the brother of Sir Henry Curtis, tells of howhe found a number of manuscripts that were left by Mr. Quatermain in hishouse in Yorkshire. Of these "Marie" was one, but in addition to it andsundry other completed records I, the Editor to whom it was directedthat these manuscripts should be handed for publication, have founda quantity of unclassified notes and papers. Some of these deal withmatters that have to do with sport and game, or with historical events,and some are memoranda of incidents connected with the career of thewriter, or with remarkable occurrences that he had witnessed of which hedoes not speak elsewhere.

  One of these notes--it is contained in a book much soiled and worn thatevidently its owner had carried about with him for years--reminds me ofa conversation that I had with Mr. Quatermain long ago when I was hisguest in Yorkshire. The note itself is short; I think that he must havejotted it down within an hour or two of the event to which it refers. Itruns thus:--

  "I wonder whether in the 'Land Beyond' any recognition is grantedfor acts of great courage and unselfish devotion--a kind of spiritualVictoria Cross. If so I think it ought to be accorded to that poor oldsavage, Magepa, as it would be if I had any voice in the matter. Upon myword he has made me feel proud of humanity. And yet he was nothing but a'nigger,' as so many call the Kaffirs."

  For a while I, the Editor, wondered to what this entry could allude.Then of a sudden it all came back to me. I saw myself, as a young man,seated in the hall of Quatermain's house one evening after dinner. Withme were Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good. We were smoking, and theconversation had turned upon deeds of heroism. Each of us detailed suchacts as he could remember which had made the most impression on him.When we had finished, old Allan said:--

  "With your leave I'll tell you a story of what I think was one of thebravest things I ever saw. It happened at the beginning of the Zulu War,when the troops were marching into Zululand. Now at that time, as youknow, I was turning an honest penny transport-riding for the Government,or rather for the military authorities. I hired them three wagons withthe necessary voorloopers and drivers, sixteen good salted oxen to eachwagon, and myself in charge of the lot. They paid me, well, never mindhow much--I am rather ashamed to mention the amount. The truth is thatthe Imperial officers bought in a dear market during that Zulu War;moreover, things were not always straight. I could tell you stories offolk, not all of them Colonials, who got rich quicker than they ought,commissions and that kind of thing. But perhaps these are betterforgotten. As for me, I asked a good price for my wagons, or rather forthe hire of them, of a very well-satisfied young gentleman in uniformwho had been exactly three weeks in the country, and to my surprise,got it. But when I went to those in command and warned them what wouldhappen if they persisted in their way of advance, then in their pridethey would not listen to the old hunter and transport-rider, butpolitely bowed me out. If they had, there would have been no Isandhlwanadisaster."

  He brooded awhile, for, as I knew, this was a sore subject with him, oneon which he would rarely talk. Although he escaped himself, Quatermainhad lost friends on that fatal field. He went on:--

  "To return to old Magepa. I had known him for many years. The first timewe met was in the battle of the Tugela. I was fighting for the king'sson, Umbelazi the Handsome, in the ranks of the Tulwana regiment--I meanto write all that story, for it should not be lost. Well, as I have toldyou before, the Tulwana were wiped out; of the three thousand or so ofthem I think only about fifty remained alive after they had annihilatedthe three of Cetewayo's regiments that set upon them. But as it chancedMagepa was one who survived.

  "I met him afterwards at old King Panda's kraal and recognised himas having fought by my side. Whilst I was talking to him the PrinceCetewayo came by; to me he was civil enough, for he knew how I chancedto be in the battle, but he glared at Magepa, and said:

  "'Why, Macumazahn, is not this man one of the dogs with which you triedto bite me by the Tugela not long ago? He must be a cunning dog also,one who can run fast, for how comes it that he lives to snarl when somany will never bark again? _Ow!_ if I had my way I would find a stripof hide to fit his neck.'

  "'Not so,' I answered, 'he has the King's peace and he is a brave man--braver than I am, anyway, Prince, seeing that I ran from the ranks ofthe Tulwana, while h
e stood where he was.'

  "'You mean that your horse ran, Macumazahn. Well, since you like thisdog, I will not hurt him,' and with a shrug he went his way.

  "'Yet soon or late he _will_ hurt me,' said Magepa, when the Prince hadgone. 'U'Cetewayo has a memory long as the shadow thrown by a tree atsunset. Moreover, as he knows well, it is true that I ran, Macumazahn,though not till all was finished and I could do no more by standingstill. You remember how, after we had eaten up the first of Cetewayo'sregiments, the second charged us and we ate that up also. Well, in thatfight I got a tap on the head from a kerry. It struck me on my man'sring which I had just put on, for I think I was the youngest soldier inthat regiment of veterans. The ring saved me; still, for a while I lostmy mind and lay like one dead. When I found it again the fight was overand Cetewayo's people were searching for our wounded that they mightkill them. Presently they found me and saw that there was no hurt on me.

  "'"Here is one who shams dead like a stink-cat," said a big fellow,lifting his spear.

  "'Then it was that I sprang up and ran, who was but just married anddesired to live. He struck at me, but I jumped over the spear, andthe others that they threw missed me. Then they began to hunt me, but,Macumazahn, I who am named "The Buck," because I am swifter of foot thanany man in Zululand, outpaced them all and got away safe.'

  "'Well done, Magepa,' I said. 'Still, remember the saying of yourpeople, "At last the strong swimmer goes with the stream and the swiftrunner is run down."'

  "'I know it, Macumazahn,' he answered, with a nod, 'and perhaps in a dayto come I shall know it better.'

  "I took little heed of his words at the time, but more than thirty yearsafterwards I remembered them.

  "Such was my first acquaintance with Magepa. Now, friends, I will tellyou how it was renewed at the time of the Zulu War.

  "As you know, I was attached to the centre column that advanced intoZululand by Rorke's Drift on the Buffalo River. Before war was declared,or at any rate before the advance began, while it might have been andmany thought it would be averted, I was employed transport-ridinggoods to the little Rorke's Drift Station, that which became so famousafterwards, and incidentally in collecting what information I could ofCetewayo's intentions. Hearing that there was a kraal a mile or sothe other side of the river, of which the people were said to be veryfriendly to the English, I determined to visit it. You may think thiswas rash, but I was so well known in Zululand, where for many years,by special leave of the king, I was allowed to go whither I would quiteunmolested and, indeed, under the royal protection, that I felt no fearfor myself so long as I went alone.

  "Accordingly one evening I crossed the drift and headed for a kloof inwhich I was told the kraal stood. Ten minutes' ride brought me in sightof it. It was not a large kraal; there may have been six or eight hutsand a cattle enclosure surrounded by the usual fence. The situation,however, was very pretty, a knoll of rising ground backed by the woodedslopes of the kloof. As I approached, I saw women and children runningto the kraal to hide, and when I reached the gateway for some timeno one would come out to meet me. At length a small boy appeared whoinformed me that the kraal was 'empty as a gourd.'

  "'Quite so,' I answered; 'still, go and tell the headman that Macumazahnwishes to speak with him.'

  "The boy departed, and presently I saw a face that seemed familiar tome peeping round the edge of the gateway. After a careful inspection itsowner emerged.

  "He was a tall, thin man of indefinite age, perhaps between sixty andseventy, with a finely-cut face, a little grey beard, kind eyes and verywell-shaped hands and feet, the fingers, which twitched incessantly,being remarkably long.

  "'Greeting, Macumazahn,' he said, 'I see you do not remember me. Well,think of the battle of the Tugela, and of the last stand of the Tulwana,and of a certain talk at the kraal of our Father-who-is-dead' (that isKing Panda), 'and of how he who sits in his place' (he meant Cetewayo),'told you that if he had his way he would find a hide rope to fit theneck of a certain one.'

  "'Ah!' I said, 'I know you now, you are Magepa the Buck. So the Runnerhas not yet been run down.'

  "'No, Macumazahn, not yet, but there is still time. I think that manyswift feet will be at work ere long.'

  "'How have you prospered?' I asked him.

  "'Well enough, Macumazahn, in all ways except one. I have three wives,but my children have been few and are dead, except one daughter, who ismarried and lives with me, for her husband, too, is dead. He was killedby a buffalo, and she has not yet married again. But enter and see.'

  "So I went in and saw Magepa's wives, old women all of them. Also, athis bidding, his daughter, whose name was Gita, brought me some _maas_,or curdled milk, to drink. She was a well-formed woman, very likeher father, but sad-faced, perhaps with a prescience of evil to come.Clinging to her finger was a beautiful boy of something under two yearsof age, who, when he saw Magepa, ran to him and threw his little armsabout his legs. The old man lifted the child and kissed him tenderly,saying:

  "'It is well that this toddler and I should love one another,Macumazahn, seeing that he is the last of my race. All the otherchildren here are those of the people who have come to live in myshadow.'

  "'Where are their fathers?' I asked, patting the little boy who, hismother told me, was named Sinala upon the cheek, an attention that heresented.

  "'They have been called away on duty,' answered Magepa shortly; and Ichanged the subject.

  "Then we began to talk about old times, and I asked him if he had anyoxen to sell, saying that this was my reason for visiting the kraal.

  "'Nay, Macumazahn,' he answered in a meaning voice. 'This year all thecattle are the king's.'

  "I nodded and replied that, as it was so, I had better be going,whereon, as I half expected, Magepa announced that he would see me safeto the drift. So I bade farewell to the wives and the widowed daughter,and we started.

  "As soon as we were clear of the kraal Magepa began to open his heart tome.

  "'Macumazahn,' he said, looking up at me earnestly, for I was mounted,and he walked beside my horse, 'there is to be war. Cetewayo will notconsent to the demands of the great White Chief from the Cape,'--hemeant Sir Bartle Frere--'he will fight with the English; only he willlet them begin the fighting. He will draw them on into Zululand and thenoverwhelm them with his impis and stamp them flat, and eat them up; andI, who love the English, am very sorry. Yes, it makes my heart bleed.If it were the Boers now, I should be glad, for we Zulus hate the Boers;but the English we do not hate; even Cetewayo likes them; still, he willeat them up if they attack him.'

  "'Indeed,' I answered; and then as in duty bound I proceeded to get whatI could out of him, and that was not a little. Of course, however, I didnot swallow it all, since that I suspected that Magepa was feeding mewith news that he had been ordered to disseminate.

  "Presently we came to the mouth of the kloof in which the kraal stood,and here, for greater convenience of conversation, we halted, for Ithought it as well that we should not be seen in close talk on the openplain beyond. The path here, I should add, ran past a clump of greenbushes; I remember they bore a white flower that smelt sweet, and werebacked by some tall grass, elephant-grass I think it was, among whichgrew mimosa trees.

  "'Magepa,' I said, 'if in truth there is to be fighting, why don't youmove over the river one night with your people and cattle, and get intoNatal?'

  "'I would if I could, Macumazahn, who have no stomach for this waragainst the English. But there I should not be safe, since presently theking will come into Natal too, or send thirty thousand assegais as hismessengers. Then what will happen to those who have left him?'

  "'Oh! if you think that,' I answered, laughing, 'you had better staywhere you are.'

  "'Also, Macumazahn, the husbands of those women at my kraal have beencalled up to their regiments and if their wives fled to the English theywould be killed. Again, the king has sent for nearly all our cattle "tokeep them safe." He fears lest we Border Zulus might join our people inNatal, an
d that is why he is keeping our cattle "safe."'

  "'Life is more than cattle, Magepa. At least you might come.'

  "'What! And leave my people to be killed? Macumazahn, you did not useto talk so. Still, hearken. Macumazahn, will you do me a service? I willpay you well for it. I would get my daughter Gita and my little grandsonSinala into safety. If I and my wives are wiped out it does not matter,for we are old. But her I would save, and the boy I would save, sothat one may live who will remember my name. Now if I were to send themacross the drift, say at the dawn, not to-morrow and not the next day,but the day after, would you receive them into your wagon and deliverthem safe to some place in Natal? I have money hidden, fifty pieces ofgold, and you may take half of these and also half of the cattle if everI live to get them back out of the keeping of the king.'

  "'Never mind about the money, and we will speak of the cattleafterwards,' I said. 'I understand that you wish to send your daughterand your little grandson out of danger; and I think you wise, very wise.When once the advance begins, if there is an advance, who knows what mayhappen? War is a rough game, Magepa. It is not the custom of you blackpeople to spare women and children; and there will be Zulus fighting onour side as well as on yours; do you understand?'