Allan Quatermain

  Next morning at breakfast I missed Flossie and asked where she was.

  'Well,' said her mother, 'when I got up this morning I found a note putoutside my door in which--But here it is, you can read it for yourself,'and she gave me the slip of paper on which the following was written:--

  'Dearest M--,--It is just dawn, and I am off to the hills to get Mr Q--abloom of the lily he wants, so don't expect me till you see me. I havetaken the white donkey; and nurse and a couple of boys are coming withme--also something to eat, as I may be away all day, for I am determinedto get the lily if I have to go twenty miles for it.--Flossie.'

  'I hope she will be all right,' I said, a little anxiously; 'I nevermeant her to trouble after the flower.'

  'Ah, Flossie can look after herself,' said her mother; 'she often goesoff in this way like a true child of the wilderness.' But Mr Mackenzie,who came in just then and saw the note for the first time, looked rathergrave, though he said nothing.

  After breakfast was over I took him aside and asked him whether it wouldnot be possible to send after the girl and get her back, having in viewthe possibility of there still being some Masai hanging about, at whosehands she might come to harm.

  'I fear it would be of no use,' he answered. 'She may be fifteen milesoff by now, and it is impossible to say what path she has taken.There are the hills;' and he pointed to a long range of rising groundstretching almost parallel with the course followed by the river Tana,but gradually sloping down to a dense bush-clad plain about five milesshort of the house.

  Here I suggested that we might get up the great tree over the house andsearch the country round with a spyglass; and this, after Mr Mackenziehad given some orders to his people to try and follow Flossie's spoor,we did.

  The ascent of the mighty tree was rather an alarming performance, evenwith a sound rope-ladder fixed at both ends to climb up, at least to alandsman; but Good came up like a lamplighter.

  On reaching the height at which the first fern-shaped boughs sprangfrom the bole, we stepped without any difficulty upon a platform madeof boards, nailed from one bough to another, and large enough toaccommodate a dozen people. As for the view, it was simply glorious.In every direction the bush rolled away in great billows for miles andmiles, as far as the glass would show, only here and there broken by thebrighter green of patches of cultivation, or by the glittering surfaceof lakes. To the northwest, Kenia reared his mighty head, and we couldtrace the Tana river curling like a silver snake almost from his feet,and far away beyond us towards the ocean. It is a glorious country, andonly wants the hand of civilized man to make it a most productive one.

  But look as we would, we could see no signs of Flossie and her donkey,so at last we had to come down disappointed. On reaching the veranda Ifound Umslopogaas sitting there, slowly and lightly sharpening his axewith a small whetstone he always carried with him.

  'What doest thou, Umslopogaas?' I asked.

  'I smell blood,' was the answer; and I could get no more out of him.

  After dinner we again went up the tree and searched the surroundingcountry with a spyglass, but without result. When we came downUmslopogaas was still sharpening Inkosi-kaas, although she already hadan edge like a razor. Standing in front of him, and regarding him with amixture of fear and fascination, was Alphonse. And certainly he did seeman alarming object--sitting there, Zulu fashion, on his haunches, a wildlook upon his intensely savage and yet intellectual face, sharpening,sharpening, sharpening at the murderous-looking axe.

  'Oh, the monster, the horrible man!' said the little French cook,lifting his hands in amazement. 'See but the hole in his head; the skinbeats on it up and down like a baby's! Who would nurse such a baby?' andhe burst out laughing at the idea.

  For a moment Umslopogaas looked up from his sharpening, and a sort ofevil light played in his dark eyes.

  'What does the little "buffalo-heifer" [so named by Umslopogaas, onaccount of his mustachios and feminine characteristics] say? Let him becareful, or I will cut his horns. Beware, little man monkey, beware!'

  Unfortunately Alphonse, who was getting over his fear of him, went onlaughing at 'ce drole d'un monsieur noir'. I was about to warn him todesist, when suddenly the huge Zulu bounded off the veranda on to theopen space where Alphonse was standing, his features alive with a sortof malicious enthusiasm, and began swinging the axe round and round overthe Frenchman's head.

  'Stand still,' I shouted; 'do not move as you value your life--he willnot hurt you;' but I doubt if Alphonse heard me, being, fortunately forhimself, almost petrified with horror.

  Then followed the most extraordinary display of sword, or rather ofaxemanship, that I ever saw. First of all the axe went flying roundand round over the top of Alphonse's head, with an angry whirl and suchextraordinary swiftness that it looked like a continuous band of steel,ever getting nearer and yet nearer to that unhappy individual's skull,till at last it grazed it as it flew. Then suddenly the motion waschanged, and it seemed to literally flow up and down his body and limbs,never more than an eighth of an inch from them, and yet never strikingthem. It was a wonderful sight to see the little man fixed there, havingapparently realized that to move would be to run the risk of suddendeath, while his black tormentor towered over him, and wrapped him roundwith the quick flashes of the axe. For a minute or more this wenton, till suddenly I saw the moving brightness travel down the side ofAlphonse's face, and then outwards and stop. As it did so a tuft ofsomething black fell to the ground; it was the tip of one of the littleFrenchman's curling mustachios.

  Umslopogaas leant upon the handle of Inkosi-kaas, and broke into a long,low laugh; and Alphonse, overcome with fear, sank into a sitting postureon the ground, while we stood astonished at this exhibition of almostsuperhuman skill and mastery of a weapon. 'Inkosi-kaas is sharp enough,'he shouted; 'the blow that clipped the "buffalo-heifer's" horn wouldhave split a man from the crown to the chin. Few could have struck itbut I; none could have struck it and not taken off the shoulder too.Look, thou little heifer! Am I a good man to laugh at, thinkest thou?For a space hast thou stood within a hair's-breadth of death. Laugh notagain, lest the hair's-breadth be wanting. I have spoken.'

  'What meanest thou by such mad tricks?' I asked of Umslopogaas,indignantly. 'Surely thou art mad. Twenty times didst thou go near toslaying the man.'

  'And yet, Macumazahn, I slew not. Thrice as Inkosi-kaas flew the spiritentered into me to end him, and send her crashing through his skull; butI did not. Nay, it was but a jest; but tell the "heifer" that it is notwell to mock at such as I. Now I go to make a shield, for I smell blood,Macumazahn--of a truth I smell blood. Before the battle hast thou notseen the vulture grow of a sudden in the sky? They smell the blood,Macumazahn, and my scent is more keen than theirs. There is a dryox-hide down yonder; I go to make a shield.'

  'That is an uncomfortable retainer of yours,' said Mr Mackenzie, who hadwitnessed this extraordinary scene. 'He has frightened Alphonse out ofhis wits; look!' and he pointed to the Frenchman, who, with a scaredwhite face and trembling limbs, was making his way into the house. 'Idon't think that he will ever laugh at "le monsieur noir" again.'

  'Yes,' answered I, 'it is ill jesting with such as he. When he is rousedhe is like a fiend, and yet he has a kind heart in his own fierce way.I remember years ago seeing him nurse a sick child for a week. He is astrange character, but true as steel, and a strong stick to rest on indanger.'

  'He says he smells blood,' said Mr Mackenzie. 'I only trust he is notright. I am getting very fearful about my little girl. She must havegone far, or she would be home by now. It is half-past three o'clock.'

  I pointed out that she had taken food with her, and very likely wouldnot in the ordinary course of events return till nightfall; but I myselffelt very anxious, and fear that my anxiety betrayed itself.

  Shortly after this, the people whom Mr Mackenzie had sent out to searchfor Flossie returned, stating that they had followed the spoor of thedonkey for a couple of miles and had then lost it on some stony grou
nd,nor could they discover it again. They had, however, scoured the countryfar and wide, but without success.

  After this the afternoon wore drearily on, and towards evening, therestill being no signs of Flossie, our anxiety grew very keen. As for thepoor mother, she was quite prostrated by her fears, and no wonder, butthe father kept his head wonderfully well. Everything that could be donewas done: people were sent out in all directions, shots were fired, anda continuous outlook kept from the great tree, but without avail.

  And then it grew dark, and still no sign of fair-haired little Flossie.

  At eight o'clock we had supper. It was but a sorrowful meal, and MrsMackenzie did not appear at it. We three also were very silent, for inaddition to our natural anxiety as to the fate of the child, we wereweighed down by the sense that we had brought this trouble on the headof our kind host. When supper was nearly at an end I made an excuse toleave the table. I wanted to get outside and think the situation over. Iwent on to the veranda and, having lit my pipe, sat down on a seat abouta dozen feet from the right-hand end of the structure, which was, asthe reader may remember, exactly opposite one of the narrow doors of theprotecting wall that enclosed the house and flower garden. I had beensitting there perhaps six or seven minutes when I thought I heard thedoor move. I looked in that direction and I listened, but, being unableto make out anything, concluded that I must have been mistaken. It was adarkish night, the moon not having yet risen.

  Another minute passed, when suddenly something round fell with a softbut heavy thud upon the stone flooring of the veranda, and camebounding and rolling along past me. For a moment I did not rise, but satwondering what it could be. Finally, I concluded it must have been ananimal. Just then, however, another idea struck me, and I got up quickenough. The thing lay quite still a few feet beyond me. I put down myhand towards it and it did not move: clearly it was not an animal. Myhand touched it. It was soft and warm and heavy. Hurriedly I lifted itand held it up against the faint starlight.

  _It was a newly severed human head!_

  I am an old hand and not easily upset, but I own that that ghastly sightmade me feel sick. How had the thing come there? Whose was it? I put itdown and ran to the little doorway. I could see nothing, hear nobody. Iwas about to go out into the darkness beyond, but remembering that to doso was to expose myself to the risk of being stabbed, I drew back,shut the door, and bolted it. Then I returned to the veranda, and in ascareless a voice as I could command called Curtis. I fear, however, thatmy tones must have betrayed me, for not only Sir Henry but also Good andMackenzie rose from the table and came hurrying out.

  'What is it?' said the clergyman, anxiously.

  Then I had to tell them.

  Mr Mackenzie turned pale as death under his red skin. We were standingopposite the hall door, and there was a light in it so that I could see.He snatched the head up by the hair and held it against the light.

  'It is the head of one of the men who accompanied Flossie,' he said witha gasp. 'Thank God it is not hers!'

  We all stood and stared at each other aghast. What was to be done?

  Just then there was a knocking at the door that I had bolted, and avoice cried, 'Open, my father, open!'

  The door was unlocked, and in sped a terrified man. He was one of thespies who had been sent out.

  'My father,' he cried, 'the Masai are on us! A great body of them havepassed round the hill and are moving towards the old stone kraal downby the little stream. My father, make strong thy heart! In the midstof them I saw the white ass, and on it sat the Water-lily [Flossie]. AnElmoran [young warrior] led the ass, and by its side walked the nurseweeping. The men who went with her in the morning I saw not.'

  'Was the child alive?' asked Mr Mackenzie, hoarsely.

  'She was white as the snow, but well, my father. They passed quite closeto me, and looking up from where I lay hid I saw her face against thesky.'

  'God help her and us!' groaned the clergyman.

  'How many are there of them?' I asked.

  'More than two hundred--two hundred and half a hundred.'

  Once more we looked one on the other. What was to be done? Just thenthere rose a loud insistent cry outside the wall.

  'Open the door, white man; open the door! A herald--a herald to speakwith thee.' Thus cried the voice.

  Umslopogaas ran to the wall, and, reaching with his long arms to thecoping, lifted his head above it and gazed over.

  'I see but one man,' he said. 'He is armed, and carries a basket in hishand.'

  'Open the door,' I said. 'Umslopogaas, take thine axe and stand thereby.Let one man pass. If another follows, slay.'

  The door was unbarred. In the shadow of the wall stood Umslopogaas, hisaxe raised above his head to strike. Just then the moon came out. Therewas a moment's pause, and then in stalked a Masai Elmoran, clad in thefull war panoply that I have already described, but bearing a largebasket in his hand. The moonlight shone bright upon his great spearas he walked. He was physically a splendid man, apparently aboutthirty-five years of age. Indeed, none of the Masai that I saw wereunder six feet high, though mostly quite young. When he got opposite tous he halted, put down the basket, and stuck the spike of his spear intothe ground, so that it stood upright.

  'Let us talk,' he said. 'The first messenger we sent to you could nottalk;' and he pointed to the head which lay upon the paving of thestoep--a ghastly sight in the moonlight; 'but I have words to speakif ye have ears to hear. Also I bring presents;' and he pointed to thebasket and laughed with an air of swaggering insolence that is perfectlyindescribable, and yet which one could not but admire, seeing that hewas surrounded by enemies.

  'Say on,' said Mr Mackenzie.

  'I am the "Lygonani" [war captain] of a party of the Masai of the GuasaAmboni. I and my men followed these three white men,' and he pointedto Sir Henry, Good, and myself, 'but they were too clever for us, andescaped hither. We have a quarrel with them, and are going to killthem.'

  'Are you, my friend?' said I to myself.

  'In following these men we this morning caught two black men, oneblack woman, a white donkey, and a white girl. One of the black men wekilled--there is his head upon the pavement; the other ran away. Theblack woman, the little white girl, and the white ass we took andbrought with us. In proof thereof have I brought this basket that shecarried. Is it not thy daughter's basket?'

  Mr Mackenzie nodded, and the warrior went on.

  'Good! With thee and thy daughter we have no quarrel, nor do we wish toharm thee, save as to thy cattle, which we have already gathered, twohundred and forty head--a beast for every man's father.' {Endnote 6}

  Here Mr Mackenzie gave a groan, as he greatly valued this herd ofcattle, which he bred with much care and trouble.

  'So, save for the cattle, thou mayst go free; more especially,' he addedfrankly, glancing at the wall, 'as this place would be a difficult oneto take. But as to these men it is otherwise; we have followed themfor nights and days, and must kill them. Were we to return to our kraalwithout having done so, all the girls would make a mock of us. So,however troublesome it may be, they must die.

  'Now I have a proposition for thee. We would not harm the little girl;she is too fair to harm, and has besides a brave spirit. Give us one ofthese three men--a life for a life--and we will let her go, and throw inthe black woman with her also. This is a fair offer, white man. We askbut for one, not for the three; we must take another opportunity to killthe other two. I do not even pick my man, though I should prefer thebig one,' pointing to Sir Henry; 'he looks strong, and would die moreslowly.'

  'And if I say I will not yield the man?' said Mr Mackenzie.

  'Nay, say not so, white man,' answered the Masai, 'for then thy daughterdies at dawn, and the woman with her says thou hast no other child. Wereshe older I would take her for a servant; but as she is so young I willslay her with my own hand--ay, with this very spear. Thou canst come andsee, an' thou wilt. I give thee a safe conduct;' and the fiend laughedaloud as his brutal jest.


  Meanwhile I had been thinking rapidly, as one does in emergencies, andhad come to the conclusion that I would exchange myself againstFlossie. I scarcely like to mention the matter for fear it should bemisunderstood. Pray do not let any one be misled into thinking thatthere was anything heroic about this, or any such nonsense. It wasmerely a matter of common sense and common justice. My life was an oldand worthless one, hers was young and valuable. Her death would prettywell kill her father and mother also, whilst nobody would be much theworse for mine; indeed, several charitable institutions would have causeto rejoice thereat. It was indirectly through me that the dear littlegirl was in her present position. Lastly, a man was better fitted tomeet death in such a peculiarly awful form than a sweet young girl. Not,however, that I meant to let these gentry torture me to death--I am fartoo much of a coward to allow that, being naturally a timid man; my planwas to see the girl safely exchanged and then to shoot myself, trustingthat the Almighty would take the peculiar circumstances of the case intoconsideration and pardon the act. All this and more went through my mindin very few seconds.

  'All right, Mackenzie,' I said, 'you can tell the man that I willexchange myself against Flossie, only I stipulate that she shall besafely in this house before they kill me.'

  'Eh?' said Sir Henry and Good simultaneously. 'That you don't.'

  'No, no,' said Mr Mackenzie. 'I will have no man's blood upon my hands.If it please God that my daughter should die this awful death, His willbe done. You are a brave man (which I am not by any means) and a nobleman, Quatermain, but you shall not go.'

  'If nothing else turns up I shall go,' I said decidedly.

  'This is an important matter,' said Mackenzie, addressing the Lygonani,'and we must think it over. You shall have our answer at dawn.'

  'Very well, white man,' answered the savage indifferently; 'onlyremember if thy answer is late thy little white bud will never grow intoa flower, that is all, for I shall cut it with this,' and he touched thespear. 'I should have thought that thou wouldst play a trick and attackus at night, but I know from the woman with the girl that your men aredown at the coast, and that thou hast but twenty men here. It is notwise, white man,' he added with a laugh, 'to keep so small a garrisonfor your "boma" [kraal]. Well, good night, and good night to you also,other white men, whose eyelids I shall soon close once and for all. Atdawn thou wilt bring me word. If not, remember it shall be as I havesaid.' Then turning to Umslopogaas, who had all the while been standingbehind him and shepherding him as it were, 'Open the door for me,fellow, quick now.'

  This was too much for the old chief's patience. For the last ten minuteshis lips had been, figuratively speaking, positively watering over theMasai Lygonani, and this he could not stand. Placing his long handon the Elmoran's shoulder he gripped it and gave him such a twistas brought him face to face with himself. Then, thrusting his fiercecountenance to within a few inches of the Masai's evil feather-framedfeatures, he said in a low growling voice:--

  'Seest thou me?'

  'Ay, fellow, I see thee.'

  'And seest thou this?' and he held Inkosi-kaas before his eyes.

  'Ay, fellow, I see the toy; what of it?'

  'Thou Masai dog, thou boasting windbag, thou capturer of little girls,with this "toy" will I hew thee limb from limb. Well for thee that thouart a herald, or even now would I strew thy members about the grass.'

  The Masai shook his great spear and laughed loud and long as heanswered, 'I would that thou stoodst against me man to man, and we wouldsee,' and again he turned to go still laughing.

  'Thou shalt stand against me man to man, be not afraid,' repliedUmslopogaas, still in the same ominous voice. 'Thou shalt stand faceto face with Umslopogaas, of the blood of Chaka, of the people of theAmazulu, a captain in the regiment of the Nkomabakosi, as many have donebefore, and bow thyself to Inkosi-kaas, as many have done before. Ay,laugh on, laugh on! tomorrow night shall the jackals laugh as theycrunch thy ribs.'

  When the Lygonani had gone, one of us thought of opening the baskethe had brought as a proof that Flossie was really their prisoner. Onlifting the lid it was found to contain a most lovely specimen of bothbulb and flower of the Goya lily, which I have already described, infull bloom and quite uninjured, and what was more a note in Flossie'schildish hand written in pencil upon a greasy piece of paper that hadbeen used to wrap up some food in:--

  'Dearest Father and Mother,' ran the note, 'The Masai caught us when wewere coming home with the lily. I tried to escape but could not. Theykilled Tom: the other man ran away. They have not hurt nurse and me, butsay that they mean to exchange us against one of Mr Quatermain's party._I will have nothing of the sort_. Do not let anybody give his lifefor me. Try and attack them at night; they are going to feast on threebullocks they have stolen and killed. I have my pistol, and if nohelp comes by dawn I will shoot myself. They shall not kill me. If so,remember me always, dearest father and mother. I am very frightened,but I trust in God. I dare not write any more as they are beginning tonotice. Goodbye.--Flossie.'

  Scrawled across the outside of this was 'Love to Mr Quatermain. They aregoing to take the basket, so he will get the lily.'

  When I read those words, written by that brave little girl in an hourof danger sufficiently near and horrible to have turned the brain ofa strong man, I own I wept, and once more in my heart I vowed that sheshould not die while my life could be given to save her.

  Then eagerly, quickly, almost fiercely, we fell to discussing thesituation. Again I said that I would go, and again Mackenzie negativedit, and Curtis and Good, like the true men that they are, vowed that, ifI did, they would go with me, and die back to back with me.

  'It is,' I said at last, 'absolutely necessary that an effort of somesort should be made before the morning.'

  'Then let us attack them with what force we can muster, and take ourchance,' said Sir Henry.

  'Ay, ay,' growled Umslopogaas, in Zulu; 'spoken like a man, Incubu. Whatis there to be afraid of? Two hundred and fifty Masai, forsooth! Howmany are we? The chief there [Mr Mackenzie] has twenty men, and thou,Macumazahn, hast five men, and there are also five white men--that is,thirty men in all--enough, enough. Listen now, Macumazahn, thou who artvery clever and old in war. What says the maid? These men eat and makemerry; let it be their funeral feast. What said the dog whom I hope tohew down at daybreak? That he feared no attack because we were so few.Knowest thou the old kraal where the men have camped? I saw it thismorning; it is thus:' and he drew an oval on the floor; 'here is the bigentrance, filled up with thorn bushes, and opening on to a steep rise.Why, Incubu, thou and I with axes will hold it against an hundred menstriving to break out! Look, now; thus shall the battle go. Just as thelight begins to glint upon the oxen's horns--not before, or it will betoo dark, and not later, or they will be awakening and perceive us--letBougwan creep round with ten men to the top end of the kraal, where thenarrow entrance is. Let them silently slay the sentry there so that hemakes no sound, and stand ready. Then, Incubu, let thee and me and oneof the Askari--the one with the broad chest--he is a brave man--creep tothe wide entrance that is filled with thorn bushes, and there also slaythe sentry, and armed with battleaxes take our stand also one on eachside of the pathway, and one a few paces beyond to deal with such aspass the twain at the gate. It is there that the rush will come. Thatwill leave sixteen men. Let these men be divided into two parties, withone of which shalt thou go, Macumazahn, and with one the "praying man"[Mr Mackenzie], and, all armed with rifles, let them make their wayone to the right side of the kraal and one to the left; and when thou,Macumazahn, lowest like an ox, all shall open fire with the guns uponthe sleeping men, being very careful not to hit the little maid. Thenshall Bougwan at the far end and his ten men raise the war-cry, and,springing over the wall, put the Masai there to the sword. And it shallhappen that, being yet heavy with food and sleep, and bewildered by thefiring of the guns, the falling of men, and the spears of Bougwan, thesoldiers shall rise and rush like wild game towards the thorn-stoppedentrance, and
there the bullets from either side shall plough throughthem, and there shall Incubu and the Askari and I wait for those whobreak across. Such is my plan, Macumazahn; if thou hast a better, nameit.'

  When he had done, I explained to the others such portions of hisscheme as they had failed to understand, and they all joined with me inexpressing the greatest admiration of the acute and skilful programmedevised by the old Zulu, who was indeed, in his own savage fashion,the finest general I ever knew. After some discussion we determined toaccept the scheme, as it stood, it being the only one possible under thecircumstances, and giving the best chance of success that such a forlornhope would admit of--which, however, considering the enormous odds andthe character of our foe, was not very great.

  'Ah, old lion!' I said to Umslopogaas, 'thou knowest how to lie in waitas well as how to bite, where to seize as well as where to hang on.'

  'Ay, ay, Macumazahn,' he answered. 'For thirty years have I been awarrior, and have seen many things. It will be a good fight. I smellblood--I tell thee, I smell blood.'

  CHAPTER VI THE NIGHT WEARS ON