The Ivory Child

H >> H. Rider Haggard >> The Ivory Child


When I inquired who this person was he said with his unpleasant
smile that I had better go through the tunnel and see for myself, an
invitation which I did not accept.

That evening Harut appeared unexpectedly, looking very grave and
troubled. He was in a great hurry and only stayed long enough to
congratulate me upon the excellent effects of his ointment, since "no
man could fight Jana on one leg."

I asked him when the fight with Jana was to come off. He replied:

"Lord, I go up to the Mountain to attend the Feast of the First-fruits,
which is held at sunrise on the day of the new moon. After the offering
the Oracle will speak and we shall learn when there will be war with
Jana, and perchance other things."

"May we not attend this feast, Harut, who are weary of doing nothing
here?"

"Certainly," he answered with his grave bow. "That is, if you come
unarmed; for to appear before the Child with arms is death. You know the
road; it runs through yonder cave and the forest beyond the cave. Take
it when you will, Lord."

"Then if we can pass the cave we shall be welcome at the feast?"

"You will be very welcome. None shall hurt you there, going or
returning. I swear it by the Child. Oh! Macumazana," he added, smiling
a little, "why do you talk folly, who know well that one lives in yonder
cave whom none may look upon and love, as Bena learned not long ago? You
are thinking that perhaps you might kill this Dweller in the cave with
your weapons. Put away that dream, seeing that henceforth those who
watch you have orders to see that none of you leave this house carrying
so much as a knife. Indeed, unless you promise me that this shall be so
you will not be suffered to set foot outside its garden until I return
again. Now do you promise?"

I thought a while and, drawing the two others aside out of hearing,
asked them their opinion.

Ragnall was at first unwilling to give any such promise, but Hans said:

"Baas, it is better to go free and unhurt without guns and knives than
to become a prisoner once, as you were among the Black Kendah. Often
there is but a short step between the prison and the grave."

Both Ragnall and I acknowledged the force of this argument and in the
end we gave the promise, speaking one by one.

"It is enough," said Harut; "moreover, know, Lord, that among us White
Kendah he who breaks an oath is put across the River Tava unarmed to
make report thereof to Jana, Father of Lies. Now farewell. If we do
not meet at the Feast of the First-fruits on the day of the new moon,
whither once more I invite you, we can talk together here after I have
heard the voice of the Oracle."

Then he mounted a camel which awaited him outside the gate and departed
with an escort of twelve men, also riding camels.

"There is some other road up that mountain, Quatermain," said Ragnall.
"A camel could sooner pass through the eye of a needle than through that
dreadful cave, even if it were empty."

"Probably," I answered, "but as we don't know where it is and I dare say
it lies miles from here, we need not trouble our heads on the matter.
The cave is _our_ only road, which means that there is _no_ road."

That evening at supper we discovered that Hans was missing; also that he
had got possession of my keys and broken into a box containing liquor,
for there it stood open in the cooking-hut with the keys in the lock.

"He has gone on the drink," I said to Ragnall, "and upon my soul I don't
wonder at it; for sixpence I would follow his example."

Then we went to bed. Next morning we breakfasted rather late, since when
one has nothing to do there is no object in getting up early. As I was
preparing to go to the cook-house to boil some eggs, to our astonishment
Hans appeared with a kettle of coffee.

"Hans," I said, "you are a thief."

"Yes, Baas," answered Hans.

"You have been at the gin box and taking that poison."

"Yes, Baas, I have been taking poison. Also I took a walk and all is
right now. The Baas must not be angry, for it is very dull doing nothing
here. Will the Baases eat porridge as well as eggs?"

As it was no use scolding him I said that we would. Moreover, there was
something about his manner which made me suspicious, for really he did
not look like a person who has just been very drunk.

After we had finished breakfast he came and squatted down before me.
Having lit his pipe he asked suddenly:

"Would the Baases like to walk through that cave to-night? If so, there
will be no trouble."

"What do you mean?" I asked, suspecting that he was still drunk.

"I mean, Baas, that the Dweller-in-the-cave is fast asleep."

"How do you know that, Hans?"

"Because I am the nurse who put him to sleep, Baas, though he kicked
and cried a great deal. He is asleep; he will wake no more. Baas, I have
killed the Father of Serpents."

"Hans," I said, "now I am sure that you are still drunk, although you do
not show it outside."

"Hans," added Ragnall, to whom I had translated as much of this as he
did not understand, "it is too early in the day to tell good stories.
How could you possibly have killed that serpent without a gun--for you
took none with you--or with it either for that matter?"

"Will the Baases come and take a walk through the cave?" asked Hans with
a snigger.

"Not till I am quite sure that you are sober," I replied; then,
remembering certain other events in this worthy's career, added; "Hans,
if you do not tell us the story at once I will beat you."

"There isn't much story, Baas," replied Hans between long sucks at his
pipe, which had nearly gone out, "because the thing was so easy. The
Baas is very clever and so is the Lord Baas, why then can they never
see the stones that lie under their noses? It is because their eyes are
always fixed upon the mountains between this world and the next. But
the poor Hottentot, who looks at the ground to be sure that he does not
stumble, ah! he sees the stones. Now, Baas, did you not hear that man
in a night shirt with his head shaved say that those goats were food for
One who dwelt in the mountain?"

"I did. What of it, Hans?"

"Who would be the One who dwelt in the mountain except the Father of
Snakes in the cave, Baas? Ah, now for the first time you see the stone
that lay at your feet all the while. And, Baas, did not the bald man add
that this One in the mountain was only fed at new and full moon, and is
not to-morrow the day of new moon, and therefore would he not be very
hungry on the day before new moon, that is, last night?"

"No doubt, Hans; but how can you kill a snake by feeding it?"

"Oh! Baas, you may eat things that make you ill, and so can a snake. Now
you will guess the rest, so I had better go to wash the dishes."

"Whether I guess or do not guess," I replied sagely, the latter being
the right hypothesis, "the dishes can wait, Hans, since the Lord there
has not guessed; so continue."

"Very well, Baas. In one of those boxes are some pounds of stuff which,
when mixed with water, is used for preserving skins and skulls."

"You mean the arsenic crystals," I said with a flash of inspiration.

"I don't know what you call them, Baas. At first I thought they were
hard sugar and stole some once, when the real sugar was left behind, to
put into the coffee--without telling the Baas, because it was my fault
that the sugar was left behind."

"Great Heavens!" I ejaculated, "then why aren't we all dead?"

"Because at the last moment, Baas, I thought I would make sure, so I put
some of the hard sugar into hot milk and, when it had melted, I gave it
to that yellow dog which once bit me in the leg, the one that came from
Beza-Town, Baas, that I told you had run away. He was a very greedy dog,
Baas, and drank up the milk at once. Then he gave a howl, twisted about,
foamed at the mouth and died and I buried him at once. After that I
threw some more of the large sugar mixed with mealies to the fowls that
we brought with us for cooking. Two cocks and a hen swallowed them
by mistake for the corn. Presently they fell on their backs, kicked a
little and died. Some of the Mazitu, who were great thieves, stole those
dead fowls, Baas. After this, Baas, I thought it best not to use that
sugar in the coffee, and later on Bena told me that it was deadly
poison. Well, Baas, it came into my mind that if I could make that great
snake swallow enough of this poison, he, too, might die.

"So I stole your keys, as I often do, Baas, when I want anything,
because you leave them lying about everywhere, and to deceive you first
opened one of the boxes that are full of square-face and brandy and left
it open, for I wished you to think that I had just gone to get drunk
like anybody else. Then I opened another box and got out two one-pound
tins of the sugar which kills dogs and fowls. Half a pound of it I
melted in boiling water with some real sugar to make the stuff sweet,
and put it into a bottle. The rest I tied with string in twelve little
packets in the soft paper which is in one of the boxes, and put them in
my pocket. Then I went up the hill, Baas, to the place where I saw those
goats are kraaled at night behind a reed fence. As I had hoped, no one
was watching them because there are no tigers so near this town, and
man does not steal the goats that are sacred. I went into the kraal and
found a fat young ewe which had a kid. I dragged it out and, taking it
behind some stones, I made its leg fast with a bit of cord and poured
this stuff out of the bottle all over its skin, rubbing it in well.
Then I tied the twelve packets of hard poison-sugar everywhere about its
body, making them very fast deep in the long hair so that they could not
tumble or rub off.

"After this I untied the goat, led it near to the mouth of the cave and
held it there for a time while it kept on bleating for its kid. Next I
took it almost up to the cave, wondering how I should drive it in, for I
did not wish to enter there myself, Baas. As it happened I need not have
troubled about that. When the goat was within five yards of the cave, it
stopped bleating, stood still and shivered. Then it began to go forward
with little jumps, as though it did not want to go, yet must do so.
Also, Baas, I felt as though _I_ wished to go with it. So I lay down and
put my heels against a rock, leaving go of the goat.

"For now, Baas, I did not care where that goat went so long as I could
keep out of the hole where dwelt the Father of Serpents that had eaten
Bena. But it was all right, Baas; the goat knew what it had to do and
did it, jumping straight into the cave. As it entered it turned its head
and looked at me. I could see its eyes in the starlight, and, Baas, they
were dreadful. I think it knew what was coming and did not like it at
all. And yet it had to walk on because it could not help it. Just like a
man going to the devil, Baas!

"Holding on to the stone I peered after it, for I had heard something
stirring in the cave making a soft noise like a white lady's dress upon
the floor. There in the blackness I saw two little sparks of fire, which
were the eyes of the serpent, Baas. Then I heard a sound of hissing like
four big kettles boiling all at once, and a little bleat from the goat.
After this there was a noise as of men wrestling, followed by another
noise as of bones breaking, and lastly, yet another sucking noise as of
a pump that won't draw up the water. Then everything grew nice and quiet
and I went some way off, sat down a little to one side of the cave, and
waited to see if anything happened.

"It must have been nearly an hour later that something did begin to
happen, Baas. It was as though sacks filled with chaff were being beaten
against stone walls there in the cave. Ah! thought I to myself, your
stomach is beginning to ache, Eater-up-of-Bena, and, as that goat had
little horns on its head--to which I tied two of the bags of the poison,
Baas--and, like all snakes, no doubt you have spikes in your throat
pointing downwards, you won't be able to get it up again. Then--I
expect this was after the poison-sugar had begun to melt nicely in the
serpent's stomach, Baas--there was a noise as though a whole company of
girls were dancing a war-dance in the cave to a music of hisses.

"And then--oh! then, Baas, of a sudden that Father of Serpents came out.
I tell you, Baas, that when I saw him in the bright starlight my hair
stood up upon my head, for never has there been such another snake in
the whole world. Those that live in trees and eat bucks in Zululand, of
whose skins men make waistcoats and slippers, are but babies compared
to this one. He came out, yard after yard of him. He wriggled about, he
stood upon his tail with his head where the top of a tree might be, he
made himself into a ring, he bit at stones and at his own stomach, while
I hid behind my rock praying to your reverend father that he might not
see me. Then at last he rushed away down the hill, faster than any horse
could gallop.

"Now I hoped that he had gone for good and thought of going myself.
Still I feared to do so lest I should meet him somewhere, so I made up
my mind to wait till daylight. It was as well, Baas, for about half an
hour later he came back again. Only now he could not jump, he could only
crawl. Never in my life did I see a snake look so sick, Baas. Into the
cave he went and lay there hissing. By degrees the hissing grew very
faint, till at length they died away altogether. I waited another
half-hour, Baas, and then I grew so curious that I thought that I would
go to look in the cave.

"I lit the little lantern I had with me and, holding it in one hand and
my stick in the other, I crept into the hole. Before I had crawled ten
paces I saw something white stretched along the ground. It was the belly
of the great snake, Baas, which lay upon its back quite dead.

"I know that it was dead, for I lit three wax matches, setting them to
burn upon its tail and it never stirred, as any live snake will do when
it feels fire. Then I came home, Baas, feeling very proud because I
had outwitted that great-grandfather of all snakes who killed Bena my
friend, and had made the way clear for us to walk through the cave.

"That is all the story, Baas. Now I must go to wash those dishes," and
without waiting for any comment off he went, leaving us marvelling at
his wit, resource and courage.

"What next?" I asked presently.

"Nothing till to-night," answered Ragnall with determination, "when I am
going to look at the snake which the noble Hans has killed and whatever
lies beyond the cave, as you will remember Harut invited us to do
unmolested, if we could."

"Do you think Harut will keep his word, Ragnall?"

"On the whole, yes, and if he doesn't I don't care. Anything is better
than sitting here in this suspense."

"I agree as to Harut, because we are too valuable to be killed just now,
if for no other reason; also as to the suspense, which is unendurable.
Therefore I will walk with you to look at that snake, Ragnall, and so no
doubt will Hans. The exercise will do my leg good."

"Do you think it wise?" he asked doubtfully; "in your case, I mean."

"I think it most unwise that we should separate any more. We had better
stand or fall altogether; further, we do not seem to have any luck
apart."



CHAPTER XVII

THE SANCTUARY AND THE OATH

That evening shortly after sundown the three of us started boldly from
our house wearing over our clothes the Kendah dresses which Ragnall had
bought, and carrying nothing save sticks in our hands, some food and
the lantern in our pockets. On the outskirts of the town we were met by
certain Kendah, one of whom I knew, for I had often ridden by his side
on our march across the desert.

"Have any of you arms upon you, Lord Macumazana?" he asked, looking
curiously at us and our white robes.

"None," I answered. "Search us if you will."

"Your word is sufficient," he replied with the grave courtesy of his
people. "If you are unarmed we have orders to let you go where you wish
however you may be dressed. Yet, Lord," he whispered to me, "I pray you
do not enter the cave, since One lives there who strikes and does not
miss, One whose kiss is death. I pray it for your own sakes, also for
ours who need you."

"We shall not wake him who sleeps in the cave," I answered
enigmatically, as we departed rejoicing, for now we had learned that the
Kendah did not yet know of the death of the serpent.

An hour's walk up the hill, guided by Hans, brought us to the mouth of
the tunnel. To tell the truth I could have wished it had been longer,
for as we drew near all sorts of doubts assailed me. What if Hans really
had been drinking and invented this story to account for his absence?
What if the snake had recovered from a merely temporary indisposition?
What if it had a wife and family living in that cave, every one of them
thirsting for vengeance?

Well, it was too late to hesitate now, but secretly I hoped that one
of the others would prefer to lead the way. We reached the place and
listened. It was silent as a tomb. Then that brave fellow Hans lit the
lantern and said:

"Do you stop here, Baases, while I go to look. If you hear anything
happen to me, you will have time to run away," words that made me feel
somewhat ashamed of myself.

However, knowing that he was quick as a weasel and silent as a cat,
we let him go. A minute or two later suddenly he reappeared out of the
darkness, for he had turned the metal shield over the bull's-eye of the
lantern, and even in that light I could see that he was grinning.

"It is all right, Baas," he said. "The Father of Serpents has really
gone to that land whither he sent Bena, where no doubt he is now
roasting in the fires of hell, and I don't see any others. Come and look
at him."

So in we went and there, true enough, upon the floor of the cave lay the
huge reptile stone dead and already much swollen. I don't know how long
it was, for part of its body was twisted into coils, so I will only say
that it was by far the most enormous snake that I have ever seen. It is
true that I have heard of such reptiles in different parts of
Africa, but hitherto I had always put them down as fabulous creatures
transformed into and worshipped as local gods. Also this particular
specimen was, I presume, of a new variety, since, according to Ragnall,
it both struck like the cobra or the adder, and crushed like the
boa-constrictor. It is possible, however, that he was mistaken on this
point; I do not know, since I had no time, or indeed inclination, to
examine its head for the poison fangs, and when next I passed that way
it was gone.

I shall never forget the stench of that cave. It was horrible, which is
not to be wondered at seeing that probably this creature had dwelt there
for centuries, since these large snakes are said to be as long lived as
tortoises, and, being sacred, of course it had never lacked for food.
Everywhere lay piles of cast bones, amongst one of which I noticed
fragments of a human skull, perhaps that of poor Savage. Also the
projecting rocks in the place were covered with great pieces of snake
skin, doubtless rubbed off by the reptile when once a year it changed
its coat.

For a while we gazed at the loathsome and still glittering creature,
then pushed on fearful lest we should stumble upon more of its kind.
I suppose that it must have been solitary, a kind of serpent rogue,
as Jana was an elephant rogue, for we met none and, if the information
which I obtained afterwards may be believed, there was no species at
all resembling it in the country. What its origin may have been I never
learned. All the Kendah could or would say about it was that it had
lived in this hole from the beginning and that Black Kendah prisoners,
or malefactors, were sometimes given to it to kill, as White Kendah
prisoners were given to Jana.

The cave itself proved to be not very long, perhaps one hundred and
fifty feet, no more. It was not an artificial but a natural hollow in
the lava rock, which I suppose had once been blown through it by an
outburst of steam. Towards the farther end it narrowed so much that I
began to fear there might be no exit. In this I was mistaken, however,
for at its termination we found a hole just large enough for a man to
walk in upright and so difficult to climb through that it became clear
to us that certainly this was not the path by which the White Kendah
approached their sanctuary.

Scrambling out of this aperture with thankfulness, we found ourselves
upon the slope of a kind of huge ditch of lava which ran first downwards
for about eighty paces, then up again to the base of the great cone of
the inner mountain which was covered with dense forest.

I presume that the whole formation of this peculiar hill was the result
of a violent volcanic action in the early ages of the earth. But as I do
not understand such matters I will not dilate upon them further than to
say that, although comparatively small, it bore a certain resemblance
to other extinct volcanoes which I had met with in different parts of
Africa.

We climbed down to the bottom of the ditch that from its general
appearance might have been dug out by some giant race as a protection to
their stronghold, and up its farther side to where the forest began on
deep and fertile soil. Why there should have been rich earth here and
none in the ditch is more than we could guess, but perhaps the presence
of springs of water in this part of the mount may have been a cause. At
any rate it was so.

The trees in this forest were huge and of a variety of cedar, but did
not grow closely together; also there was practically no undergrowth,
perhaps for the reason that their dense, spreading tops shut out the
light. As I saw afterwards both trunks and boughs were clothed with
long grey moss, which even at midday gave the place a very ghostly
appearance. The darkness beneath those trees was intense, literally we
could not see an inch before our faces. Yet rather than stand still we
struggled on, Hans leading the way, for his instincts were quicker than
ours. The steep rise of the ground beneath our feet told us that we were
going uphill, as we wished to do, and from time to time I consulted a
pocket compass I carried by the light of a match, knowing from previous
observations that the top of the Holy Mount lay due north.

Thus for hour after hour we crept up and on, occasionally butting into
the trunk of a tree or stumbling over a fallen bough, but meeting with
no other adventures or obstacles of a physical kind. Of moral, or rather
mental, obstacles there were many, since to all of us the atmosphere
of this forest was as that of a haunted house. It may have been the
embracing darkness, or the sough of the night wind amongst the boughs
and mosses, or the sense of the imminent dangers that we had passed and
that still awaited us. Or it may have been unknown horrors connected
with this place of which some spiritual essence still survived, for
without doubt localities preserve such influences, which can be felt by
the sensitive among living things, especially in favouring conditions of
fear and gloom. At any rate I never experienced more subtle and yet more
penetrating terrors than I did upon that night, and afterwards Ragnall
confessed to me that my case was his own. Black as it was I thought that
I saw apparitions, among them glaring eyes and that of the elephant
Jana standing in front of me with his trunk raised against the bole of a
cedar. I could have sworn that I saw him, nor was I reassured when Hans
whispered to me below his breath, for here we did not seem to dare to
raise our voices:

"Look, Baas. Is it Jana glowing like hot iron who stands yonder?"

"Don't be a fool," I answered. "How can Jana be here and, if he were
here, how could we see him in the night?" But as I said the words I
remembered Harut had told us that Jana had been met with on the Holy
Mount "in the spirit or in the flesh." However this may be, next instant
he was gone and we beheld him or his shadow no more. Also we thought
that from time to time we heard voices speaking all around us, now here,
now there and now in the tree tops above our heads, though what they
said we could not catch or understand.

Thus the long night wore away. Our progress was very slow, but guided by
occasional glimpses at the compass we never stopped but twice, once
when we found ourselves apparently surrounded by tree boles and fallen
boughs, and once when we got into swampy ground. Then we took the risk
of lighting the lantern, and by its aid picked our way through these
difficult places. By degrees the trees grew fewer so that we could see
the stars between their tops. This was a help to us as I knew that one
of them, which I had carefully noted, shone at this season of the year
directly over the cone of the mountain, and we were enabled to steer
thereby.

It must have been not more than half an hour before the dawn that Hans,
who was leading--we were pushing our way through thick bushes at the
time--halted hurriedly, saying: