The Ivory Child

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He looked at me curiously, then asked,

"You don't think there is anything really serious in all this business,
do you?"

"I don't know what to think," I answered, "except that you will do well
to keep a good eye upon your wife. What those Easterns tried to do last
night and, I think, years ago, they may try again soon, or years hence,
for evidently they are patient and determined men with much to win.
Also it is a curious coincidence that she should have that mark upon her
which appeals so strongly to Messrs. Harut and Marut, and, to be brief,
she is in some ways different from most young women. As she said to
me herself last night, Lord Ragnall, we are surrounded by mysteries;
mysteries of blood, of inherited spirit, of this world generally in
which it is probable that we all descended from quite a few common
ancestors. And beyond these are other mysteries of the measureless
universe to which we belong, that may already be exercising their strong
and secret influences upon us, as perhaps, did we know it, they have
done for millions of years in the Infinite whence we came and whither we
go."

I suppose I spoke somewhat solemnly, for he said,

"Do you know you frighten me a little, though I don't quite understand
what you mean." Then we parted.

With Miss Holmes my conversation was shorter. She remarked,

"It has been a great pleasure to me to meet you. I do not remember
anybody with whom I have found myself in so much sympathy--except one
of course. It is strange to think that when we meet again I shall be a
married woman."

"I do not suppose we shall ever meet again, Miss Holmes. Your life is
here, mine is in the wildest places of a wild land far away."

"Oh! yes, we shall," she answered. "I learned this and lots of other
things when I held my head in that smoke last night."

Then we also parted.

Lastly Mr. Savage arrived with my coat. "Goodbye, Mr. Quatermain," he
said. "If I forget everything else I shall never forget you and those
villains, Harum and Scarum and their snakes. I hope it won't be my lot
ever to clap eyes on them again, Mr. Quatermain, and yet somehow I don't
feel so sure of that."

"Nor do I," I replied, with a kind of inspiration, after which followed
the episode of the rejected tip.



CHAPTER VI

THE BONA FIDE GOLD MINE

Fully two years had gone by since I bade farewell to Lord Ragnall and
Miss Holmes, and when the curtain draws up again behold me seated on the
stoep of my little house at Durban, plunged in reflection and very sad
indeed. Why I was sad I will explain presently.

In that interval of time I had heard once or twice about Lord Ragnall.
Thus I received from Scroope a letter telling of his lordship's marriage
with Miss Holmes, which, it appeared, had been a very fine affair
indeed, quite one of the events of the London season. Two Royalties
attended the ceremony, a duke was the best man, and the presents
according to all accounts were superb and of great value, including a
priceless pearl necklace given by the bridegroom to the bride. A cutting
from a society paper which Scroope enclosed dwelt at length upon the
splendid appearance of the bridegroom and the sweet loveliness of the
bride. Also it described her dress in language which was Greek to me.
One sentence, however, interested me intensely.

It ran: "The bride occasioned some comment by wearing only one ornament,
although the Ragnall family diamonds, which have not seen the light for
many years, are known to be some of the finest in the country. It was
a necklace of what appeared to be large but rather roughly polished
rubies, to which hung a small effigy of an Egyptian god also fashioned
from a ruby. It must be added that although of an unusual nature on
such an occasion this jewel suited her dark beauty well. Lady Ragnall's
selection of it, however, from the many she possesses was the cause of
much speculation. When asked by a friend why she had chosen it, she is
reported to have said that it was to bring her good fortune."

Now why did she wear the barbaric marriage gift of Harut and Marut in
preference to all the other gems at her disposal, I wondered. The thing
was so strange as to be almost uncanny.

The second piece of information concerning this pair reached me through
the medium of an old _Times_ newspaper which I received over a year
later. It was to the effect that a son and heir had been born to Lord
Ragnall and that both mother and child were doing well.

So there's the end to a very curious little story, thought I to myself.



Well, during those two years many things befell me. First of all, in
company with my old friend Sir Stephen Somers, I made the expedition to
Pongoland in search of the wonderful orchid which he desired to add
to his collection. I have already written of that journey and our
extraordinary adventures, and need therefore allude to it no more here,
except to say that during the course of it I was sorely tempted to
travel to the territory north of the lake in which the Pongos dwelt.
Much did I desire to see whether Messrs. Harut and Marut would in truth
appear to conduct me to the land where the wonderful elephant which was
supposed to be animated by an evil spirit was waiting to be killed by
my rifle. However, I resisted the impulse, as indeed our circumstances
obliged me to do. In the end we returned safely to Durban, and here I
came to the conclusion that never again would I risk my life on such mad
expeditions.

Owing to circumstances which I have detailed elsewhere I was now in
possession of a considerable sum of cash, and this I determined to lay
out in such a fashion as to make me independent of hunting and trading
in the wilder regions of Africa. As usual when money is forthcoming, an
opportunity soon presented itself in the shape of a gold mine which had
been discovered on the borders of Zululand, one of the first that was
ever found in those districts. A Jew trader named Jacob brought it to
my notice and offered me a half share if I would put up the capital
necessary to work the mine. I made a journey of inspection and convinced
myself that it was indeed a wonderful proposition. I need not enter into
the particulars nor, to tell the truth, have I any desire to do so, for
the subject is still painful to me, further than to say that this Jew
and some friends of his panned out visible gold before my eyes and
then revealed to me the magnificent quartz reef from which, as they
demonstrated, it had been washed in the bygone ages of the world. The
news of our discovery spread like wildfire, and as, whatever else I
might be, everyone knew that I was honest, in the end a small company
was formed with Allan Quatermain, Esq., as the chairman of the Bona Fide
Gold Mine, Limited.

Oh! that company! Often to this day I dream of it when I have
indigestion.

Our capital was small, L10,000, of which the Jew, who was well named
Jacob, and his friends, took half (for nothing of course) as the
purchase price of their rights. I thought the proportion large and said
so, especially after I had ascertained that these rights had cost them
exactly three dozen of square-face gin, a broken-down wagon, four cows
past the bearing age and L5 in cash. However, when it was pointed out
to me that by their peculiar knowledge and genius they had located and
provided the value of a property of enormous potential worth, moreover
that this sum was to be paid to them in scrip which would only be
realizable when success was assured and not in money, after a night of
anxious consideration I gave way.

Personally, before I consented to accept the chairmanship, which carried
with it a salary of L100 a year (which I never got), I bought and paid
for in cash, shares to the value of L1,000 sterling. I remember that
Jacob and his friends seemed surprised at this act of mine, as they
had offered to give me five hundred of their shares for nothing "in
consideration of the guarantee of my name." These I refused, saying that
I would not ask others to invest in a venture in which I had no actual
money stake; whereon they accepted my decision, not without enthusiasm.
In the end the balance of L4,000 was subscribed and we got to work. Work
is a good name for it so far as I was concerned, for never in all my
days have I gone through so harrowing a time.

We began by washing a certain patch of gravel and obtained results which
seemed really astonishing. So remarkable were they that on publication
the shares rose to 10s. premium. Jacob and Co. took advantage of
this opportunity to sell quite half of their bonus holding to eager
applicants, explaining to me that they did so not for personal profit,
which they scorned, but "to broaden the basis of the undertaking by
admitting fresh blood."

It was shortly after this boom that the gravel surrounding the rich
patch became very gravelly indeed, and it was determined that we should
buy a small battery and begin to crush the quartz from which the gold
was supposed to flow in a Pactolian stream. We negotiated for that
battery through a Cape Town firm of engineers--but why follow the
melancholy business in all its details? The shares began to decrease in
value. They shrank to their original price of L1, then to 15s., then
to 10s. Jacob, he was managing director, explained to me that it
was necessary to "support the market," as he was already doing to an
enormous extent, and that I as chairman ought to take a "lead in this
good work" in order to show my faith in the concern.

I took a lead to the extent of another L500, which was all that I could
afford. I admit that it was a shock to such trust in human nature as
remained to me when I discovered subsequently that the 1,000 shares
which I bought for my L500 had really been the property of Jacob,
although they appeared to be sold to me in various other names.

The crisis came at last, for before that battery was delivered our
available funds were exhausted, and no one would subscribe another
halfpenny. Debentures, it is true, had been issued and taken up to the
extent of about L1,000 out of the L5,000 offered, though who bought them
remained at the time a mystery to me. Ultimately a meeting was called to
consider the question of liquidating the company, and at this meeting,
after three sleepless nights, I occupied the chair.

When I entered the room, to my amazement I found that of the five
directors only one was present besides myself, an honest old retired
sea captain who had bought and paid for 300 shares. Jacob and the two
friends who represented his interests had, it appeared, taken ship that
morning for Cape Town, whither they were summoned to attend various
relatives who had been seized with illness.

It was a stormy meeting at first. I explained the position to the best
of my ability, and when I had finished was assailed with a number of
questions which I could not answer to the satisfaction of myself or
of anybody else. Then a gentleman, the owner of ten shares, who had
evidently been drinking, suggested in plain language that I had cheated
the shareholders by issuing false reports.

I jumped up in a fury and, although he was twice my size, asked him to
come and argue the question outside, whereon he promptly went away. This
incident excited a laugh, and then the whole truth came out. A man with
coloured blood in him stood up and told a story which was subsequently
proved to be true. Jacob had employed him to "salt" the mine by mixing
a heavy sprinkling of gold in the gravel we had first washed (which the
coloured man swore he did in innocence), and subsequently had defrauded
him of his wages. That was all. I sank back in my chair overcome. Then
some good fellow in the audience, who had lost money himself in the
affair and whom I scarcely knew, got up and made a noble speech which
went far to restore my belief in human nature.

He said in effect that it was well known that I, Allan Quatermain,
after working like a horse in the interests of the shareholders, had
practically ruined myself over this enterprise, and that the real thief
was Jacob, who had made tracks for the Cape, taking with him a large
cash profit resulting from the sale of shares. Finally he concluded by
calling for "three cheers for our honest friend and fellow sufferer, Mr.
Allan Quatermain."

Strange to say the audience gave them very heartily indeed. I thanked
them with tears in my eyes, saying that I was glad to leave the room as
poor as I had ever been, but with a reputation which my conscience as
well as their kindness assured me was quite unblemished.

Thus the winding-up resolution was passed and that meeting came to
an end. After shaking hands with my deliverer from a most unpleasant
situation, I walked homewards with the lightest heart in the world. My
money was gone, it was true; also my over-confidence in others had led
me to make a fool of myself by accepting as fact, on what I believed
to be the evidence of my eyes, that which I had not sufficient expert
knowledge to verify. But my honour was saved, and as I have again and
again seen in the course of life, money is nothing when compared with
honour, a remark which Shakespeare made long ago, though like many other
truths this is one of which a full appreciation can only be gained by
personal experience.

Not very far from the place where our meeting had been held I passed a
side street then in embryo, for it had only one or two houses situated
in their gardens and a rather large and muddy sluit of water running
down one side at the edge of the footpath. Save for two people this
street was empty, but that pair attracted my attention. They were
a white man, in whom I recognized the stout and half-intoxicated
individual who had accused me of cheating the company and then departed,
and a withered old Hottentot who at that distance, nearly a hundred
yards away, much reminded me of a certain Hans.

This Hans, I must explain, was originally a servant of my father, who
was a missionary in the Cape Colony, and had been my companion in
many adventures. Thus in my youth he and I alone escaped when Dingaan
murdered Retief and his party of Boers,[*] and he had been one of my
party in our quest for the wonderful orchid, the record of which I have
written down in "The Holy Flower."

[*] See the book called "Marie."--Editor.

Hans had his weak points, among which must be counted his love of
liquor, but he was a gallant and resourceful old fellow as indeed he had
amply proved upon that orchid-seeking expedition. Moreover he loved me
with a love passing the love of women. Now, having acquired some
money in a way I need not stop to describe--for is it not written
elsewhere?--he was settled as a kind of little chief on a farm not very
far from Durban, where he lived in great honour because of the fame of
his deeds.

The white man and Hans, if Hans it was, were engaged in violent
altercation whereof snatches floated to me on the breeze, spoken in the
Dutch tongue.

"You dirty little Hottentot!" shouted the white man, waving a stick,
"I'll cut the liver out of you. What do you mean by nosing about after
me like a jackal?" And he struck at Hans, who jumped aside.

"Son of a fat white sow," screamed Hans in answer (for the moment I
heard his voice I knew that it was Hans), "did you dare to call the Baas
a thief? Yes, a thief, O Rooter in the mud, O Feeder on filth and worms,
O Hog of the gutter--the Baas, the clipping of whose nail is worth
more than you and all your family, he whose honour is as clear as the
sunlight and whose heart is cleaner than the white sand of the sea."

"Yes, I did," roared the white man; "for he got my money in the gold
mine."

"Then, hog, why did you run away. Why did you not wait to tell him so
outside that house?"

"I'll teach you about running away, you little yellow dog," replied the
other, catching Hans a cut across the ribs.

"Oh! you want to see me run, do you?" said Hans, skipping back a few
yards with wonderful agility. "Then look!"

Thus speaking he lowered his head and charged like a buffalo. Fair
in the middle he caught that white man, causing him to double up, fly
backwards and land with a most resounding splash in the deepest part of
the muddy sluit. Here I may remark that, as his shins are the weakest,
a Hottentot's head is by far the hardest and most dangerous part of him.
Indeed it seems to partake of the nature of a cannon ball, for,
without more than temporary disturbance to its possessor, I have seen a
half-loaded wagon go over one of them on a muddy road.

Having delivered this home thrust Hans bolted round a corner and
disappeared, while I waited trembling to see what happened to his
adversary. To my relief nearly a minute later he crept out of the sluit
covered with mud and dripping with water and hobbled off slowly down the
street, his head so near his feet that he looked as though he had been
folded in two, and his hands pressed upon what I believe is medically
known as the diaphragm. Then I also went upon my way roaring with
laughter. Often I have heard Hottentots called the lowest of mankind,
but, reflected I, they can at any rate be good friends to those who
treat them well--a fact of which I was to have further proof ere long.

By the time I reached my house and had filled my pipe and sat myself
down in the dilapidated cane chair on the veranda, that natural reaction
set in which so often follows rejoicing at the escape from a great
danger. It was true that no one believed I had cheated them over that
thrice-accursed gold mine, but how about other matters?

I mused upon the Bible narrative of Jacob and Esau with a new and very
poignant sympathy for Esau. I wondered what would become of my Jacob.
Jacob, I mean the original, prospered exceedingly as a result of
his deal in porridge, and, as thought I, probably would his artful
descendant who so appropriately bore his name. As a matter of fact I do
not know what became of him, but bearing his talents in mind I think
it probable that, like Van Koop, under some other patronymic he has now
been rewarded with a title by the British Government. At any rate I
had eaten the porridge in the shape of worthless but dearly purchased
shares, after labouring hard at the chase of the golden calf, while
brother Jacob had got my inheritance, or rather my money. Probably he
was now counting it over in sovereigns upon the ship and sniggering as
he thought of the shareholders' meeting with me in the chair. Well,
he was a thief and would run his road to whatever end is appointed for
thieves, so why should I bother my head more about him? As I had kept my
honour--let him take my savings.

But I had a son to support, and now what was I to do with scarcely three
hundred pounds, a good stock of guns and this little Durban property
left to me in the world? Commerce in all its shapes I renounced once
and for ever. It was too high--or too low--for me; so it would seem that
there remained to me only my old business of professional hunting. Once
again I must seek those adventures which I had forsworn when my evil
star shone so brightly over a gold mine. What was it to be? Elephants, I
supposed, since these are the only creatures worth killing from a money
point of view. But most of my old haunts had been more or less shot out.
The competition of younger professionals, of wandering backveld Boers
and even of poaching natives who had obtained guns, was growing severe.
If I went at all I should have to travel farther afield.

Whilst I meditated thus, turning over the comparative advantages
or disadvantages of various possible hunting grounds in my mind, my
attention was caught by a kind of cough that seemed to proceed from the
farther side of a large gardenia bush. It was not a human cough, but
rather resembled that made by a certain small buck at night, probably
to signal to its mate, which of course it could not be as there were no
buck within several miles. Yet I knew it came from a human throat, for
had I not heard it before in many an hour of difficulty and danger?

"Draw near, Hans," I said in Dutch, and instantly out of a clump of
aloes that grew in front of the pomegranate hedge, crept the withered
shape of the old Hottentot, as a big yellow snake might do. Why he
should choose this method of advance instead of that offered by the
garden path I did not know, but it was quite in accordance with his
secretive nature, inherited from a hundred generations of ancestors who
spent their lives avoiding the observation of murderous foes.

He squatted down in front of me, staring in a vacant way at the fierce
ball of the westering sun without blinking an eyelid, just as a vulture
does.

"You look to me as though you had been fighting, Hans," I said. "The
crown of your hat is knocked out; you are splashed with mud and there is
the mark of a stick upon your left side."

"Yes, Baas. You are right as usual, Baas. I had a quarrel with a man
about sixpence that he owed me, and knocked him over with my head,
forgetting to take my hat off first. Therefore it is spoiled, for which
I am sorry, as it was quite a new hat, not two years old. The Baas gave
it me. He bought it in a store at Utrecht when we were coming back from
Pongoland."

"Why do you lie to me?" I asked "You have been fighting a white man
and for more than sixpence. You knocked him into a sluit and the mud
splashed up over you."

"Yes, Baas, that is so. Your spirit speaks truly to you of the matter.
Yet it wanders a little from the path, since I fought the white man for
less than sixpence. I fought him for love, which is nothing at all."

"Then you are even a bigger fool than I took you for, Hans. What do you
want now?"

"I want to borrow a pound, Baas. The white man will take me before
the magistrate, and I shall be fined a pound, or fourteen days in the
_trunk_ (i.e. jail). It is true that the white man struck me first, but
the magistrate will not believe the word of a poor old Hottentot against
his, and I have no witness. He will say, 'Hans, you were drunk again.
Hans, you are a liar and deserve to be flogged, which you will be next
time. Pay a pound and ten shillings more, which is the price of good
white justice, or go to the _trunk_ for fourteen days and make baskets
there for the great Queen to use.' Baas, I have the price of the justice
which is ten shillings, but I want to borrow the pound for the fine."

"Hans, I think that just now you are better able to lend me a pound than
I am to lend one to you. My bag is empty, Hans."

"Is it so, Baas? Well, it does not matter. If necessary I can make
baskets for the great white Queen to put her food in, for fourteen days,
or mats on which she will wipe her feet. The _trunk_ is not such a bad
place, Baas. It gives time to think of the white man's justice and to
thank the Great One in the Sky, because the little sins one did not do
have been found out and punished, while the big sins one did do,
such as--well, never mind, Baas--have not been found out at all. Your
reverend father, the Predikant, always taught me to have a thankful
heart, Baas, and when I remember that I have only been in the _trunk_
for three months altogether who, if all were known, ought to have been
there for years, I remember his words, Baas."

"Why should you go to the _trunk_ at all, Hans, when you are rich and
can pay a fine, even if it were a hundred pounds?"

"A month or two ago it is true I was rich, Baas, but now I am poor. I
have nothing left except ten shillings."

"Hans," I said severely, "you have been gambling again; you have been
drinking again. You have sold your property and your cattle to pay your
gambling debts and to buy square-face gin."

"Yes, Baas, and for no good it seems; though it is not true that I have
been drinking. I sold the land and the cattle for L650, Baas, and with
the money I bought other things."

"What did you buy?" I said.

He fumbled first in one pocket of his coat and then in the other, and
ultimately produced a crumpled and dirty-looking piece of paper that
resembled a bank-note. I took and examined this document and next minute
nearly fainted. It certified that Hans was the proprietor of I know not
how many debentures or shares, I forget which they were, in the Bona
Fide Gold Mine, Limited, that same company of which I was the unlucky
chairman, in consideration for which he had paid a sum of over six
hundred and fifty pounds.

"Hans," I said feebly, "from whom did you buy this?"

"From the baas with the hooked nose, Baas. He who was named Jacob, after
the great man in the Bible of whom your father, the Predikant, used to
tell us, that one who was so slim and dressed himself up in a goatskin
and gave his brother mealie porridge when he was hungry, after he had
come in from shooting buck, Baas, and got his farm and cattle, Baas, and
then went to Heaven up a ladder, Baas."

"And who told you to buy them, Hans?"

"Sammy, Baas, he who was your cook when we went to Pongoland, he who hid
in the mealie-pit when the slavers burned Beza-Town and came out half
cooked like a fowl from the oven. The Baas Jacob stopped at Sammy's
hotel, Baas, and told him that unless he bought bits of paper like this,
of which he had plenty, you would be brought before the magistrate and
sent to the _trunk_, Baas. So Sammy bought some, Baas, but not many for
he had only a little money, and the Baas Jacob paid him for all he ate
and drank with other bits of paper. Then Sammy came to me and showed me
what it was my duty to do, reminding me that your reverend father, the
Predikant, had left you in my charge till one of us dies, whether you
were well or ill and whether you got better or got worse--just like a
white wife, Baas. So I sold the farm and the cattle to a friend of the
Baas Jacob's, at a very low price, Baas, and that is all the story."