The People of the Mist
CHAPTER IV
THE LAST VIGIL
For a while Leonard sat by the body of his brother. The daylight grewand gathered about him, the round ball of the sun appeared above themountains.
The storm was gone. Were it not for some broken fragments of thevanished hut, it would have been difficult to know even that it hadbeen. Insects began to chirrup, lizards ran from the crevices of therocks, yonder the rain-washed bud of a mountain lily opened before hiseyes. Still Leonard sat on, his face stony with grief, till at lengtha shadow fell upon him from above. He looked up--it was cast by avulture's wings, as they hurried to the place of death.
Grasping his loaded rifle Leonard sprang to his feet. Nearer and nearercame the bird, wheeling above him in lessening circles: it forgot thepresence of the living in its desire for the dead. Leonard lifted therifle, aimed and fired. The report rang out clearly on the silent air,and was echoed from krantz and kloof and mountain side, and from aboveanswered the thud of the bullet. For a moment the smitten bird swayedupon its wide pinions, then they seemed to crumple beneath its weight,and it fell heavily and lay flapping and striking at the stones with itsstrong beak.
"I also can kill," said Leonard to himself as he watched it die. "Killtill you are killed--that is the law of life." Then he turned to thebody of his brother and made it ready for burial as best he might,closing the eyes, tying up the chin with a band of twisted grass, andfolding the thin toil-worn hands upon the quiet heart.
When all was finished he paused from his dreadful task, and a thoughtstruck him.
"Where are those Kaffirs?" he said aloud--the sound of his voice seemedto dull the edge of solitude--"the lazy hounds, they ought to have beenup an hour ago. Hi! Otter, Otter!"
The mountains echoed "Otter, Otter;" there was no other reply. Again heshouted without result. "I don't like to leave it," he said, "but I mustgo and see;" and, having covered the body with a red blanket to scareaway the vultures, he started at a run round some projecting rocks thatbordered the little plateau on which the hut had stood. Beyond them theplateau continued, and some fifty paces from the rocks was a hollow inthe mountain side, where a softer vein of stone had been eaten away bycenturies of weather.
It was here that the Kaffirs slept--four of them--and in front of thiscave or grotto it was their custom to make a fire for cooking. But onthat morning no fire was burning, and no Kaffirs were to be seen.
"Still asleep," was Leonard's comment as he strode swiftly towardsthe cave. In another moment he was in it shouting "Otter, Otter!" andsaluting with a vigorous kick a prostrate form, of which he could justsee the outline. The form did not move, which was strange, for sucha kick should have suffered to wake even the laziest Basuto from hissoundest sleep. Leonard stopped to examine it, and the next momentstarted back violently, exclaiming:
"Great heavens! it is Cheat, and he is dead."
At this moment a thick voice spoke from the corner of the cave in Dutch,the voice of Otter:
"I am here, Baas, but I am tied: the Baas must loosen me, I cannotstir."
Leonard advanced, striking a match as he came. Presently it burned up,and he saw the man Otter lying on his back, his legs and arms boundfirmly with rimpis of hide, his face and body a mass of contusions.Drawing his hunting-knife Leonard cut the rimpis and brought the manfrom out the cave, carrying rather than leading him.
Otter was a knob-nosed Kaffir, that is of the Bastard Zulu race.The brothers had found him wandering about the country in a state ofsemi-starvation, and he had served them faithfully for some years.They had christened him Otter, his native patronymic being quiteunpronounceable, because of his extraordinary skill in swimming, whichalmost equalled that of the animal after which he was named.
In face the man was hideous, though his ugliness was not unpleasant,being due chiefly to a great development of his tribal feature, thenose, and in body he was misshapen to the verge of monstrosity. In factOtter was a dwarf, measuring little more than four feet in height. Butwhat he lacked in height he made up in breadth; it almost seemed asthough, intended by nature to be a man of many inches, he had beencompressed to his present dimensions by art. His vast chest and limbs,indicating strength nearly superhuman, his long iron arms and massivehead, all gave colour to this idea. Otter had one redeeming feature,however--his eyes, that when visible, which at this moment was not thecase, were large, steady, and, like his skin, of a brilliant black.
"What has happened?" said Leonard, also speaking in Dutch.
"This, Baas! Last night those three Basuto villains, your servants, madeup their minds to desert. They told me nothing, and they were so cunningthat, though I watched even their thoughts, I never guessed. They knewbetter than to tell me, for I would have beaten them--yes, all! So theywaited till I was sound asleep, then came behind me, the three of them,and tied me fast that I should not hinder them and that they might takeaway Baas Tom's gun which you lent me, and other things. Soon I foundout their plans, and though I laughed in their faces, oh! my heart wasblack with rage.
"When the Basuto dogs had tied me they mocked me, calling me foulnames and saying that I might stop and starve with the white fools,my masters, who always dug for yellow iron and found so little, beingfools. Then they got together everything of value, yes, down to thekettle, and made ready to go, and each of them came and slapped me onthe face, and one burnt me here upon the nose with a hot brand.
"All this I bore as a man must bear trouble which comes from the skies,but when Cheat took up Baas Tom's gun and the others came with a reimto tie me to the rock, I could bear it no more. So I shouted aloud anddrove at Cheat, who held the gun. Ah! they had forgotten that if my armsare strong, my head is stronger! Butting like a bull I caught him fairin the middle, and his back was against the side of the cave. He madeone noise, no more; he will never make another noise, for my headsmashed him up inside and the rock hurt me through him. Then the othertwo hit me with kerries--great blows--and my arms being tied I could notdefend myself, though I knew that they would soon kill me; so I groanedand dropped down, pretending to be dead--just like a stink-cat.
"At last, thinking that they had finished me, the Basutos ran away in agreat hurry, for they feared lest you might hear the shouting and shouldcome after them with rifles. They were so much afraid that they left thegun and most of the other things. After that I fainted; it was silly,but those kerries of theirs are of rhinoceros horn--I should not haveminded so much had they been of wood, but the horn bites deep. That isall the story. It will please Baas Tom to know that I saved his gun.When he hears it he will forget his sickness and say 'Well done Otter!Ha! Otter, your head is hard.'"
"Make your heart hard also," said Leonard with a sad smile; "Baas Tom isdead. He died at daybreak in my arms. The fever killed him as it killedthe other _Inkoosis_ (chiefs)."
Otter heard, and, letting his bruised head fall upon his mighty chest,remained for a while in silence. At length he lifted it, and Leonard sawtwo tears wandering down the battered countenance. "_Wow_," he said, "isit so? Oh! my father, are you dead, you who were brave like a lion andgentle as a girl? Yes, you are dead, my ears have heard it, and were itnot for your brother, the Baas Leonard, I think that I would kill myselfand follow you. _Wow_, my father, are you indeed dead, who smiled uponme yesterday?"
"Come," said Leonard; "I dare not leave him long."
And he went, Otter following him with a reeling gait, for he was weakfrom his injuries. Presently they reached the spot, and Otter saw thatthe hut was gone.
"Certainly," he said, "our bad spirits were abroad last night. Well,next time it will be the turn of the good ones." Then he drew near tothe corpse and saluted it with uplifted hand and voice.
"Chief and Father," he said in Zulu, for Otter had wandered long andknew many tongues, but he loved the Zulu best of all. "While you livedupon earth, you were a good man and brave, though somewhat quick oftemper and quarrelsome like a woman. Now you have wearied of this worldand flown away like an eagle towards the sun, and there where you
livein the light of the sun you will be braver and better yet, and becomemore patient and not quarrel any more with those who are less cleverthan you. Chief and Father, I salute you! May he whom you named theOtter serve you and the _Inkoosi_ your brother once more in the Houseof the Great-Great, if one so ugly and misshapen can enter there. As forthe Basuto dog whom I slew and who would have stolen your gun, I seenow that I killed him in a fortunate hour, that he might be the slavebeneath your feet in the House of the Great-Great. Ah! had I known,I would have sent a better man, for there as here Cheat will still beCheat. Hail, my father! Hail and farewell! Let your spirit watch over usand be gentle towards us, who love you yet."
And Otter turned away without further ado; and having washed his wounds,he set himself to the task of preparing such coarse food as they had instore.
When it was ready Leonard ate of it, and after he had finished eating,together they bore the body to the little cave for shelter. It wasLeonard's purpose to bury his brother at sundown; he might not delaylonger, but till then he would watch by him, keeping the last of manyvigils. So all that remained of the Basuto Cheat having been draggedforth and thrust unceremoniously into an ant-bear hole by Otter, whowhile he disposed of the body did not spare to taunt the spirit of hislate treacherous foe, the corpse of Thomas Outram was laid in its place,and Leonard sat himself by its side in the gloom of the cave.
About midday Otter, who had been sleeping off his sorrows, physical andmental, came into the cavern. They were short of meat, he said, and withthe leave of the Baas he would take the gun of the dead Baas and try toshoot a buck.
Leonard bade him go, but to be back by sundown, as he should require hishelp.
"Where shall we dig a hole, Baas?" asked the dwarf.
"One is dug," answered Leonard; "he who is dead dug it himself as theothers did. We will bury him in the last pit he made looking for gold,to the right of where the hut stood. It is deep and ready."
"Yes, Baas, a good place--though perhaps Baas Tom would not have workedat it so strongly had he known. _Wow!_ Who knows to what end he labours?But perchance it is a little near the donga. Twice that hole has beenflooded while Baas Tom was digging in it. Then he would jump out, butnow----"
"I have settled it," said Leonard shortly; "go, and be back half an hourbefore sundown at latest. Stop! Bring some of those rock-lilies if youcan. The Baas was fond of them."
The dwarf saluted and went. "Ah!" he said to himself as he waddled downthe hill where he hoped to find game, "ah! you do not fear men dead orliving--overmuch; yet, Otter, it is true that you are better here inthe sun, though the sun is hot, than yonder in the cave. Say, Otter, whydoes Baas Tom look so awful now that he is dead--he who was so gentlewhile yet he lived? Cheat did not look awful, only uglier. But then youkilled Cheat, and the Heavens killed Baas Tom and set their own sealupon him. And what will Baas Leonard do now that his brother is dead andthe Basutos have run away? Go on digging for the yellow iron which isso hard to find, and of which, when it is found, no man can even make aspear? Nay, what is that to you, Otter? What the Baas does you do--andhere be the spoor of an impala buck."
Otter was right. The day was fearfully hot. It was summer in EastAfrica, or rather autumn, the season of fever, thunder and rain, a timethat none who valued their lives would care to spend in those latitudessearching for gold with poor food and but little shelter. But men whoseek their fortunes are not chary of hazarding their own lives ofthose of others. They become fatalists, not avowedly perhaps, butunconsciously. Those who are destined to die must die, they think, theothers will live. And, after all, it does not greatly matter which theydo, for, as they know well, the world will never miss them.
When Leonard Outram, his brother, and two companions in adventure heardfrom the natives that at a particular spot on the mountains, nominallyin the Portuguese territory near the lowest branch of the Zambesi, goldcould be dug out like iron ore, and when, at the price of two Towermuskets and a half-bred greyhound, they received a concession from theactual chief of that territory to dig up and possess the gold withoutlet or hindrance from any person whatsoever, they did not postpone theirundertaking because the country was fever-stricken and the unhealthyseason drew on. In the first place, their resources were not great atthe moment; and in the second, they feared lest some other enterprisingperson with three Tower muskets and two grey-hounds should persuade thechief to rescind their concession in his favour.
So they journeyed laboriously to the place of hidden wealth, and withthe help of such native labour as they could gather began their search.At first they were moderately successful; indeed, wherever they dugthey found "colour," and once or twice stumbled upon pockets ofnuggets. Their hopes ran high, but presently one of the four--Askew byname--sickened and died of fever. They buried him and persevered withvarying luck. Then a second member of their party, Johnston, was takenill. He lingered for a month and died also.
After this Leonard was for abandoning the enterprise, but, as fate wouldhave it, on the day following Johnston's death they found gold in verypromising quantities, and his brother, whose desire to win the wealthnecessary was only increased by many disappointments, would not listento such advice.
So they rebuilt the hut on a higher and healthier spot and stayed. Buton one unfortunate day Thomas Outram went out shooting, and losing hispath in the bush was forced to spend a night in the fever-fog. Aweek afterwards he complained of sickness and pains in the back andhead--three weeks later he died as we have seen.
All these events and many others antecedent passed through Leonard'smind as he wore out the long hours seated by the side of his deadbrother. Never before had he felt so lonely, so utterly desolate, sobankrupt of all love and hope. It was a fact that at this moment he hadno friend in the wide world, unless he could call the knob-nosed nativeOtter a friend. He had been many years away from England, his fewdistant relations there troubled themselves no more about him or hisbrother, outcasts, wanderers in strange lands, and his school andcollege companions in all probability had forgotten his existence.
There was one indeed, Jane Beach. But since that night of parting, sevenyears ago, he had heard nothing of her. Twice he had written, but noanswer came to his letters. Then he gave up writing, for Leonard was aproud man; moreover he guessed that she did not reply because she couldnot. As he had said to his brother, Jane might be dead by now, or moreprobably married to Mr. Cohen. And yet once they had loved each other,and to this hour he still loved her, or thought that he did. At least,through all the weary years of exile, labour, and unceasing search afterthe unattainable, her image and memory had been with him, a distantdream of sweetness, peace, and beauty, and they were with him yet,though nothing of her remained to him except the parting gift of herprayer-book and the lock of hair within it. The wilderness is nota place where men can forget their earliest love. No, he was alone,absolutely and utterly alone, a wanderer in wild lands, a sojourner withrough unlettered men and savages.
And now, what should he do? This place was played out. There wasalluvial gold indeed, but Leonard knew to-day that it was not in theearth, but in the veins of quartz which permeated the mountains, thatthe real wealth must be sought for, and how could he extract it from thequartz without machinery or capital? Besides, his Kaffir servants haddeserted him, worn out with hard work and fever, and there wereno others to be had at this season. Well, it was only one moredisappointment; he must go back to Natal and take his chance. At theworst he could always earn his living as a transport-rider, and at thebest he wearied of this search for wealth which was to build up theirfamily afresh.
Then of a sudden Leonard remembered what he had promised--to go onseeking till he died. Very good, he would keep the promise--till hedied. And he remembered also that curious prophecy to which Thomas hadgiven utterance on the previous night, that prophecy of wealth whichshould come to him.
Of course it was nothing but the distraught fancy of a dying man. Formany years his brother had brooded over this possibility of gainingriches, not for
their own sake indeed, but that it might be the meansof restoring the ancient family, which their father had brought to shameand ruin. It was not wonderful in a man of his excitable temperamentthat at the hour of his death he should have grasped at some vision ofattainment of the object of his life, though by the hand of another.And yet how strangely he had looked at him! With what conviction he hadspoken! But all this was beside the point; he, Leonard, had sworn anoath many years ago, and only last night he had promised to continue toobserve that oath. Therefore, come good or ill, he must pursue it to theend.
Thus he mused till he grew weary as he sat hour after hour by the sideof that rigid thing, which had been his playmate, his brother, and hisfriend. From time to time he rose and walked about the cave. As theafternoon waned the air grew hotter and stiller, while a great cloudgathered on the horizon.
"There will be thunder at sundown," said Leonard aloud; "I wish thatOtter would come back, so that we might get the funeral over; otherwisewe shall have to wait till to-morrow."
At length, about half an hour before nightfall, the dwarf appeared atthe mouth of the cave, looking more like a gnome than a man against thelurid background of the angry sky. A buck was tied across his enormousshoulders, and in his hand he held a large bunch of the fragrantmountain lilies.
Then the two of them buried Thomas Outram, there in his lonely gravewhich he himself had dug by the gully, and the roll of the thunder washis requiem. It seemed a fitting termination to his stormy and laboriouslife.