The Ghost Kings

  CHAPTER XIV

  WHAT CHANCED AT RAMAH

  The news which reached Rachel that Ishmael had been ill after the roughhandling of the captains in her presence, was true enough. For many dayshe was far too ill to travel, and when he recovered sufficiently to starthe could only journey slowly to the Tugela.

  It will be remembered that she was told that he had escaped, as indeed heseemed to do, slipping off at night, but this escape of his was carefullyarranged beforehand, nor did any attempt to re-capture him upon his way.When at length he came to the river he found the small impi awaiting him,not knowing whither they were to go or what they were to do, their onlyorders being that they must obey him in all things. He found also that theTugela was in furious flood, so that to ford it proved quite impossible.Here, then, he was obliged to remain for ten full days while the water randown.

  Ishmael was not idle during those ten days, which be spent in recoveringhis health, and incidentally in reflection. Thus he thought a great dealof his past life, and did not find the record satisfactory. With his exacthistory we need not trouble ourselves. He was well-born, as he had toldRachel, but had been badly brought up. His strong passions had led himinto trouble while young, and instead of trying to reform him hisbelongings had cast him off. Then he had enlisted in the army, and soreached South Africa. There he committed a crime--as a matter of fact itwas murder or something like it--and fled from justice far into thewilderness, where a touch of imagination prompted him to take the name ofIshmael.

  For a while this new existence suited him well enough. Thus he had wivesin plenty of a sort, and he grew rich, becoming just such a person asmight be expected from his environment and unchecked natural tendencies.At length it happened that he met Rachel, who awoke in him certainforgotten associations. She was an English lady, and he remembered thatonce he had been an English gentleman, years and years ago. Also she wasbeautiful, which appealed to his strong animal nature, and spiritual,which appealed to a materialist soaked in Kaffir superstition. So he fellin love with her, really in love; that is to say, he came to desire tomake her his wife more than he desired anything else on earth. For hersake he grew to dislike his black consorts, however handsome; even theheaping up of herds of cattle after the native fashion ceased to appeal tohim. He wanted to live as his forbears had lived, quietly, respectably,with a woman of his own class.

  So he made advances to her, with the results we know. For fifteen years ormore he had been a savage, and he could not hide his savagery from hereyes any more than he could break off the ties and entanglements that hadgrown up about him. Had she happened to care for him, it is very possible,however, that in this he would have succeeded in time. He might even havereformed himself completely, and died in old age a much-respected colonialgentleman; perhaps a member of the local Legislature. But she did not; shedetested him; she knew him for what he was, a cowardly outcast whose goodlooks did not appeal to her. So the spark of his new aspirations wastrampled out beneath her merciless heel, and there remained only theacquired savagery and superstition mixed with the inborn instincts of ablackguard.

  It was this superstition of his that had, brought all her troubles uponRachel, for however it came about, he had conceived the idea that she wassomething more than an ordinary woman and, with many tales of hermysterious origin and powers, imparted it to the Zulus, in whose minds itwas fostered by the accident of the coincidence of her native name andpersonal loveliness with those of the traditional white Spirit of theirrace, and by Mopo's identification of her with that Spirit. Thus shebecame their goddess and his; at any rate for a time. But while theydesired to worship her only, and use her rumoured wisdom as an oracle, hesought to make her his wife; the more impossible it became, the more hesought it. She refused him with contumely, and he laid plots to decoy herto Zululand, thinking that there she would be in his power. In the end hesucceeded, basely enough, only to find that he was in her power, and thatthe contumely, and more, were still his share.

  But all this did not in the least deter him from his aim, and as itchanced, fortune had put other cards into his hand. He knew that Rachelwould not stay among the Zulus, as they knew it. Therefore they hadcommissioned him to bring her people to her. If her people were notbrought he was sure that she would come to seek them, and _if she found noone_, then where could she go, or at least who would be at hand to helpher? Surely his opportunity had come at last, and marriage by capture didnot occur to him, who had spent so many years among savages, as a crimefrom which to shrink. Only he feared that the prospective captive, theInkosazana-y-Zoola, was not one with whom it was safe to trifle. But hislove was stronger than his fear. He thought that he would take the risk.

  Such were the reflections of Ishmael upon the banks of the flooded Tugela,and when at length the waters went down sufficiently to enable him and thesoldiers under his command to cross into Natal, he was fully determined toput them into practice, if the chance came his way. How this might best bedone he left to luck, for if it could be avoided he did not wish to havemore blood upon his hands. Only Rachel must be rendered homeless andfriendless, for then who could protect her from him? An answer came intohis mind--she might protect herself, or that Power which seemed to go withher might protect her. Something warned him that this evil enterprise wasvery dangerous. Yet the fire that burnt within him drove him on to facethe danger.

  Ishmael was still on the Zululand bank of the river when one day aboutnoon an urgent message reached him from Dingaan. It said that the King wasangry as a wounded buffalo to learn, as he had just done, that he,Ibubesi, still lingered on his road, and had not carried out his mission.The Inkosazana, accompanied by a white man, was travelling to Ramah, andunless he went forward at once, would overtake him. Therefore he mustmarch instantly and bring back the old Teacher and his wife as he had beenbidden. Should he meet the Inkosazana and her companion as he returnedwith the white prisoners she must not be touched or insulted in any way,only his ears and those of the soldiers with him were to be deaf to herorders or entreaties to release them, for then she would surely turn andfollow of her own accord back to the Great Place. If the white man withher made trouble or resisted, he was to be bound, but on no account musthis blood be made to flow, for if this happened it would bring a curseupon the land, and he, Dingaan, swore by the head of the Black One who wasgone (that is Chaka) that he would kill him, Ibubesi, in payment. Yes, hewould smear him with honey and bind him over an ant-heap in the sun tillhe died, if he hunted Africa from end to end to catch him. Moreover,should he fail in the business, he would send a regiment and destroy histown at Mafooti, and, put his wives and people to the spear, and seize hiscattle. All this also he swore by the head of the Black One.

  Now when Ishmael received this message he was much frightened, for he knewthat these were not idle threats. Indeed, the exhausted messenger told himthat never had any living man seen Dingaan so mad with rage as he was whenhe learned that he, Ibubesi, was still lingering on the banks of theTugela, adding that he had foamed at the mouth with fury and utteredterrible threats. Ishmael sent him back with a humble answer, pointing outthat it had been impossible to cross the river, which was "in wrath," butthat now he would do all things as he was commanded, and especially thatnot a hair of the white man's head should be harmed.

  "Then you must do them quickly," said the messenger with a grim smile ashe rose and prepared to go, "for know that the Inkosazana is not more thanhalf a day's march behind you, accompanied by the white Inkoos Dario."

  "What is this Dario like?" asked Ishmael.

  "Oh! he is young and very handsome, with hair and beard of gold, and eyesthat are such as those of the Inkosazana herself. Some say that he is herbrother, another child of the Heavens, and some that he is her husband.Who am I that I should speak of such high things? But it is evident thatshe loves him very much, for by her magic she told the King of his coming,and even when he is behind her she is always trying to turn her head tolook at him."

  "Oh! she loves him very much, does
she?" said Ishmael, setting his whiteteeth. Then he turned, and calling the captain of the impi, gave ordersthat the river must be crossed at once, for so the King commanded, and itwas better to die with honour by water than with shame by the spear.

  So they waded and swam the river with great difficulty, but, as itchanced, without loss of life, Ishmael being borne over it upon theshoulders of the strongest men. Upon its further bank he summoned thecaptains and delivered to them the orders of the King. Then they set outfor Ramah, Ishmael carried in a litter made of boughs.

  Whilst the soldiers were constructing this litter, he called two men ofthe Swamp-dwellers, who had their homes upon the banks of the Tugela, andpromising them a reward, bade them run to his town, Mafooti, and tell hishead man there to come at once with thirty of the best soldiers, and tohide them in the bush of the kloof above Ramah, where he would join themthat night. The men, who knew Ibubesi, and what happened to those whofailed upon his business, went swiftly, and a little while afterwards, thelitter being finished, Ishmael entered it, and the impi started for Ramah.

  Before sundown they appeared upon a ridge overlooking the settlement, justas the herds were driving the cattle into their kraals. Seeing the Zuluswhile as yet they were some way off, these herds shouted an alarm, whereonthe people of the place, thinking that Dingaan had sent a regiment to wipethem out, fled to the bush, the herds driving the cattle after them. Man,woman, and child, deserting their pastor, who knew nothing of all this,being occupied with a sad business, they fled, incontinently, so that whenIshmael and the impi entered Ramah, no one was left in it save a few agedand sick people, who could not walk.

  At the outskirts of the town Ishmael descended from his litter andcommanded the soldiers to surround it, with orders that they were to hurtno one, but if the white Umfundusi, who was called Shouter, or his wifeattempted to escape, they were to be seized and brought to him. Thentaking with him some of the captains and a guard of ten men, he advancedto the mission-house.

  The door was open, and, followed by the Zulus, he entered to search theplace, for he feared that its inhabitants might have seen them, and havegone with the others. Looking into the first room that they reached, ofwhich, as it chanced, the door was also open, Ishmael saw that this wasnot so, for there upon the bed lay Mrs. Dove, apparently very ill, whileby the side of the bed knelt her husband, praying. For a few momentsIshmael and the savages behind him stood still, staring at the pair, tillsuddenly Mrs. Dove turned her head and saw them. Lifting herself in thebed she pointed with her finger, and Ishmael noticed that her lips werequite blue, and that she did not seem to be able to speak. Then Mr. Dove,observing her outstretched hand, looked round. He had not seen Ishmaelsince that day when he struck him after their stormy interview at Mafooti,but recognising the man at once, he asked sternly:

  "What are you doing, sir, with these savages in my house? Cannot you seethat my wife is sick, and must not be disturbed?"

  "I am sorry," Ishmael answered shamefacedly, for in his heart he wasafraid of Mr. Dove, "but I am sent to you with a message from Dingaan theKing, and," he added as an afterthought, "from your daughter."

  "From my daughter!" exclaimed Mr. Dove eagerly. "What of her? Is she well?We cannot get any certain news of her, only rumours."

  "I saw her but once." replied Ishmael, "and she was well enough, then. Youknow the Zulus have made her their Inkosazana, and keep her guarded."

  "Does she live quite alone then with these savages?"

  "She did, but I am sorry I must tell you that she seems to have acompanion now, some scoundrel of a white man with whom she has taken up,"he sneered.

  "My daughter take up with a scoundrel of a white man! It is false. What isthis man's name?"

  "I don't know, but the natives call him Dario, and say that he is young,and has fair hair, and that she is in love with him. That's all I can tellyou about the man."

  Mr. Dove shook his head, but his wife sat up suddenly in bed, and pluckedhim by the sleeve, for she had been listening intently to everything thatpassed.

  "Dario! Young, fair hair, in love with him--" she repeated in a thickwhisper, then added, "John, it is Richard Darrien grown up--the boy whosaved her in the Umtooma River, years ago, and whom she has neverforgotten. Oh! thank God! Thank God! With him she will be safe. I alwaysknew that he would find her, for they belong to each other," and she sankback exhausted.

  "That's what the Zulus say, that they belong to each other," repliedIshmael, with another sneer. "Perhaps they are married native fashion."

  "Stop insulting my daughter, sir," said Mr. Dove angrily. "She would nottake a husband as you take your wives, nor if this man is Richard Darrien,as I pray, would he be a party to such a thing. Tell me, are they cominghere?"

  "Not they, they are far too comfortable where they are. Also the Zuluswould prevent them. But don't be sad about it, for I am sent to take youboth to join her at the Great Place where you are to live."

  "To join her! It is impossible," ejaculated Mr. Dove, glancing at his sickwife.

  "Impossible or not, you've got to come at once, both of you. That is theKing's order and the Inkosazana's wish, and what is more there is an impioutside to see that you obey. Now I give you five minutes to get ready,and then we start."

  "Man, are you mad? How can my wife travel to Zululand in her state? Shecannot walk a step."

  "Then she can be carried," answered Ishmael callously. "Come, don't wastetime in talking. Those are my orders, and I am not going to have my throatcut for either of you. If Mrs. Dove won't dress wrap her up in blankets."

  "You go, John, you go," whispered his wife, "or they will kill you. Nevermind about me; my time has come, and I die happy, for Richard Darrien iswith Rachel."

  The mention of Richard's name seemed to infuriate Ishmael. At any rate hesaid brutally:

  "Are you coming, or must I use force?"

  "Coming, you wicked villain! How can I come?" shouted Mr. Dove, for he wasmad with grief and rage. "Be off with your savages. I will shoot the firstman who lays a finger on my wife," and as he spoke he snatched adouble-barrelled pistol which hung upon the wall and cocked it.

  Ishmael turned to the Zulus who stood behind him watching this scene withcuriosity.

  "Seize the Shouter," he said, "and bind him. Lift the old woman on hermattress, and carry her. If she dies on the road we cannot help it."

  The captains hesitated, not from fear, but because Mrs. Dove's conditionmoved even their savage hearts to pity.

  "Why do you not obey?" roared Ishmael. "Dogs and cowards, it is the King'sword. Take her up or you shall die, every man of you, you know how. Knockdown the old Evildoer with your sticks if he gives trouble."

  Now the men hesitated no longer. Springing forward, several of them seizedthe mattress and began to lift it bodily. Mrs. Dove rose and tried tostruggle from the bed, then uttered a low moaning cry, fell back, and laystill.

  "You devils, you have killed her!" gasped Mr. Dove, as lifting the pistolhe fired at the Zulu nearest to him, shooting him through the body so thathe sank upon the floor dying. Then, fearing lest he should shoot again,the captains fell upon the poor old man, striking him with kerries and thehandles of their spears, for they sought to disable him and make him dropthe pistol.

  As it chanced, though this was not their intention, in the confusion aheavy blow from a knobstick struck him on the temple. The second barrel ofthe pistol went off, and the bullet from it but just missed Ishmael whowas standing to one side. When the smoke cleared away it was seen that Mr.Dove had fallen backwards on to the bed. The martyrdom he always soughtand expected had overtaken him. He was quite dead. They were both dead!

  The head induna in command of the impi stepped forward and looked at them,then felt their hearts.

  "_Wow!_" he said, "these white people have 'gone beyond.' They have goneto join the spirits, both of them. What now, Ibubesi?"

  Ishmael, who stood in the corner, very white-faced, and staring with roundeyes, for the tragedy had taken a turn that he
did not intend or expect,shook himself and rubbed his forehead with his hand, answering:

  "Carry them into the Great Place, I suppose. The King ordered that theyshould be brought there. Why did you kill that old Shouter, you fools?" headded with irritation. "You have brought his blood and the curse of theInkosazana on our heads."

  "_Wow!_" answered the induna again, "you bade us strike him with sticks,and our orders were to obey you. Who would have guessed that the old man'sskull was so thin from thinking? You or I would never have felt a tap likethat. But they are 'gone beyond,' and we will not defile ourselves bytouching them. Dead bones are of no use to anyone, and their ghosts mighthaunt us. Come, brethren, let us go back to the King and make report. Theorder was Ibubesi's, and we are not to blame."

  "Yes," they answered, "let us go back and make report. Are you coming,Ibubesi?"

  "Not I," he answered. "Do I want to have my neck twisted because of yourclumsiness? Go you and win your own peace if you can, but if you see theInkosazana, my advice is that you avoid her lest she learn the truth, andbring your deaths upon you, for, know, she travels hither, and she calledthese folk father and mother."

  "Without doubt we will avoid her," said the captain, "who fear herterrible curse. But, Ibubesi, it is on you that it will fall, not on uswho did but obey you as we were bidden; yes, on you she will bring downdeath before this moon dies. Make your peace with the Heavens, if you can,Ibubesi, as we go to try to make ours with the King."

  "Would you bewitch me, you ill-omened dog?" shouted Ishmael, wiping thesweat of fear off his brow, "May you soon be stiff!"

  "Nay, nay, Ibubesi, it is you who shall be stiff. The Inkosazana will seeto that, and were I not sure of it I would make you so myself, who am anoble who will not be called names by a white _umfagozan_, a low-bornfellow who plots for blood, but leaves its shedding to brave men.Farewell, Ibubesi; if the jackals leave anything of you after theInkosazana has spoken, we will return to bury your bones," and he turnedto go.

  "Stay," cried the dying man on the floor, "would you leave me here inpain, my brothers?"

  The induna stepped to him and examined him.

  "It is mortal," he said, shaking his head, "right through the liver. Whydid not the white man's thunder smite Ibubesi instead of you, and save theInkosazana some trouble? Well, your arms are still strong and here is aspear; you know where to strike. Be quick with your messages. Yes, yes, Iwill see that they are delivered. Good-night, my brother. Do you rememberhow we stood side by side in that big fight twenty years ago, when thePondo giant got me down and you fell on the top of me and thrust upwardsand killed him? It was a very good fight, was it not? We will talk it overagain in the World of Spirits. Good-night, my brother. Yes, yes, I willdeliver the message to your little girl, and tell her where the necklaceis to be found, and that you wish her to name her firstborn son after you.Good-night. Use that assegai at once, for your wound must be painful, orperhaps as you are down upon the ground Ibubesi will do it for you.Good-night, my brother, and Ibubesi, goodnight to you also. We cross theTugela by another drift, wait you here for the Inkosazana, and tell herhow the Shouter died."

  Then they turned and went. The wounded man watched them pass the door, andwhen the last of them had gone he used the assegai upon himself, and withhis failing hand flung it feebly at Ishmael.

  The dying Zulu's spear struck Ishmael, who had turned his head away, uponthe cheek, just pricking it and causing the blood to flow, no more.Ishmael was still also, paralysed almost, or so he seemed, for even thepain of the cut did not make him move. He stared at the bodies of Mr. andMrs. Dove; he stared at the dead Zulu, and in his heart a voice cried:"You have murdered them. By now they are pleading to God for vengeance onyou, Ishmael, the outcast. You will never dare to be alone again, for theywill haunt you."

  As he thought it the relaxed hand of the old clergyman who had fallen in asitting posture on the bed, slipped from his wounded head which he hadclasped just before he died, and for a moment seemed to point at him. Heshivered, but still he could not stir. How dreadful and solemn was thatface! And those eyes, how they searched out the black record of his heart!The quiet rays of the afternoon sun suddenly flowed in through the windowplace and illumined the awful, accusing face till it shone like that of asaint in glory. A drop of blood from the cut upon his cheek splashed on tothe floor, and the noise of it struck on his strained nerves loud as apistol-shot. Blood, his own blood wherewith he must pay for that which hehad shed. The sight and the thought seemed to break the spell. With anoath he bounded out of the room like a frightened wolf, those dead staringat him as he went, and rushed from the house that held them.

  Beyond its walls Ishmael paused. The Zulus had fled in one direction, andthe inhabitants of Ramah in another; there was no one to be seen. His eyefell upon the dense mass of bush above the station, and he remembered themessage that he had sent to his own people to meet him there. Perhaps theyhad already arrived. He would go to see, he who was in such sore need ofhuman company. As he went his numbed faculties returned to him, and in theopen light of day some of his terror passed. He began to think again. Whatwas done was done; he could not bring the dead back to life. He was notreally to blame, and after all, things had worked out well for him. Savefor this white man, Dario, Rachel was now alone in the world, and deadpeople did not speak, there was no one to tell her of his share in thetragedy. Why should she not turn to him who had no one else to whom shecould go? The white man, if he were still with her, could be got rid ofsomehow; very likely he would run away, and they two would be left quitealone. At any rate it was for her sake that be had entered on this blackroad of sin, and what did one step more matter, the step that led him tohis reward? Of course it might lead him somewhere else. Rachel was a womanto be feared, and the Zulus were to be feared, and other things to whichhe could give no shape or name, but that he felt pressing round him, werestill more to be feared. Perhaps he would do best to fly, far into theinterior, or by ship to some other land where none would know him and hisblack story. What! Fly companioned by those ghosts, and leave Rachel, thewoman for whom he burned, with this Dario, whom the Zulus said she loved,and with whom her mother, just before her end, had declared that she wouldbe safe? Never. She was his; he had bought her with blood, and he wouldhave the due the devil owed him.

  He was in the bush now, and a voice called him, that of his head man.

  "Come out, you dog," he said, searching the dense foliage with his eyes,and the man appeared, saluting him humbly.

  "We received your message and we have come, Inkoos. We are but justarrived. What has chanced here that the town is so still?"

  "The Zulus have been and gone. They have killed the white Teacher and hiswife, though I thought to save them--look at my wound. Also the people arefled."

  "Ah!" replied the head man, "that was an ill deed, for he was holy, and agreat prophet, and doubtless his spirit is strong to revenge. Well for youis it, Master, that you had no hand in the deed, as at first I fearedmight be the case, for know that last night a strange dog climbed on toyour hut and howled there and would not be driven away, nor could we killit with spears, so we think it was a ghost. All your wives thought thatevil had drawn near to you."

  Ishmael struck him across the mouth, exclaiming.

  "Be silent, you accursed wizard, or you shall howl louder than yourghost-dog."

  "I meant no harm," answered the man humbly, but with a curious gleam inhis eye. "What are your commands, Chief?"

  "That we watch here. I think that the daughter of the Shouter, she who iscalled Inkosazana-y-Zoola, is coming, and she may need help. Have youbrought thirty men with you as I bade you through my messengers?"

  "Aye, Ibubesi, they are all hidden in the bush. I go to summon them,though I think that the mighty Inkosazana, who can command all the Zuluimpis and all the spirits of the dead, will need little help from us."