The Ivory Child

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"Please put it all down as a rich man's whim," he concluded.

"I can't call that a whim which has returned L1,500 odd to my pocket
that I had lost upon a gamble, Lord Ragnall."

"Do you remember, Quatermain, how you won L250 upon a gamble at my place
and what you did with it, which sum probably represented to you twenty
or fifty times what it would to me? Also if that argument does not
appeal to you, may I remark that I do not expect you to give me your
services as a professional hunter and guide for nothing."

"Ah!" I answered, fixing on this point and ignoring the rest, "now
we come to business. If I may look upon this amount as salary, a very
handsome salary by the way, paid in advance, you taking the risks of my
dying or becoming incapacitated before it is earned, I will say no more
of the matter. If not I must refuse to accept what is an unearned gift."

"I confess, Quatermain, that I did not regard it in that light, though I
might have been willing to call it a retaining fee. However, do not let
us wrangle about money any more. We can always settle our accounts when
the bill is added up, if ever we reach so far. Now let us come to more
important details."

So we fell to discussing the scheme, route and details of our proposed
journey. Expenditure being practically no object, there were several
plans open to us. We might sail up the coast and go by Kilwa, as I had
done on the search for the Holy Flower, or we might retrace the line of
our retreat from the Mazitu country which ran through Zululand. Again,
we might advance by whatever road we selected with a small army of
drilled and disciplined retainers, trusting to force to break a way
through to the Kendah. Or we might go practically unaccompanied, relying
on our native wit and good fortune to attain our ends. Each of these
alternatives had so much to recommend it and yet presented so many
difficulties, that after long hours of discussion, for this talk was
renewed again and again, I found it quite impossible to decide upon
any one of them, especially as in the end Lord Ragnall always left the
choice with its heavy responsibilities to me.

At length in despair I opened the window and whistled twice on a certain
low note. A minute later Hans shuffled in, shaking the wet off the new
corduroy clothes which he had bought upon the strength of his return to
affluence, for it was raining outside, and squatted himself down upon
the floor at a little distance. In the shadow of the table which cut off
the light from the hanging lamp he looked, I remember, exactly like
an enormous and antique toad. I threw him a piece of tobacco which he
thrust into his corn-cob pipe and lit with a match.

"The Baas called me," he said when it was drawing to his satisfaction,
"what does Baas want of Hans?"

"Light in darkness!" I replied, playing on his native name, and
proceeded to set out the whole case to him.

He listened without a word, then asked for a small glass of gin, which
I gave him doubtfully. Having swallowed this at a gulp as though it were
water, he delivered himself briefly to this effect:

"I think the Baas will do well not to go to Kilwa, since it means
waiting for a ship, or hiring one; also there may be more slave-traders
there by now who will bear him no love because of a lesson he taught
them a while ago. On the other hand the road through Zululand is open,
though it be long, and there the name of Macumazana is one well known.
I think also that the Baas would do well not to take too many men, who
make marching slow, only a wagon or two and some drivers which might be
sent back when they can go no farther. From Zululand messengers can be
dispatched to the Mazitu, who love you, and Bausi or whoever is king
there to-day will order bearers to meet us on the road, until which time
we can hire other bearers in Zululand. The old woman at Beza-Town told
me, moreover, as you will remember, that the Kendah are a very great
people who live by themselves and will allow none to enter their land,
which is bordered by deserts. Therefore no force that you could take
with you and feed upon a road without water would be strong enough to
knock down their gates like an elephant, and it seems better that you
should try to creep through them like a wise snake, although they appear
to be shut in your face. Perhaps also they will not be shut since did
you not say that two of their great doctors promised to meet you and
guide you through them?"

"Yes," I interrupted, "I dare say it will be easier to get in than to
get out of Kendahland."

"Last of all, Baas, if you take many men armed with guns, the black part
of the Kendah people of whom I told you will perhaps think you come to
make war, whatever the white Kendah may say, and kill us all, whereas if
we be but a few perchance they will let us pass in peace. I think that
is all, Baas. Let the Baas and the Lord Igeza forgive me if my words are
foolish."

Here I should explain that "Igeza" was the name which the natives
had given to Lord Ragnall because of his appearance. The word means a
handsome person in the Zulu tongue. Savage they called "Bena," I don't
know why. "Bena" in Zulu means to push out the breast and it may be
that the name was a round-about allusion to the proud appearance of the
dignified Savage, or possibly it had some other recondite signification.
At any rate Lord Ragnall, Hans and myself knew the splendid Savage
thenceforward by the homely appellation of Beans. His master said it
suited him very well because he was so green.

"The advice seems wise, Hans. Go now. No, no more gin," I answered.

As a matter of fact careful consideration convinced us it was so wise
that we acted on it down to the last detail.



So it came about that one fine afternoon about a fortnight later, for
hurry as we would our preparations took a little time, we trekked for
Zululand over the sandy roads that ran from the outskirts of Durban.
Our baggage and stores were stowed in two half-tented wagons, very good
wagons since everything we had with us was the best that money could
buy, the after-part of which served us as sleeping-places at night.
Hans sat on the _voor-kisse_ or driving-seat of one of the wagons; Lord
Ragnall, Savage and I were mounted upon "salted" horses, that is, horses
which had recovered from and were therefore supposed to be proof against
the dreadful sickness, valuable and docile animals which were trained to
shooting.

At our start a little contretemps occurred. To my amazement I saw
Savage, who insisted upon continuing to wear his funereal upper
servant's cut-away coat, engaged with grim determination in mounting his
steed from the wrong side. He got into the saddle somehow, but there
was worse to follow. The horse, astonished at such treatment, bolted
a little way, Savage sawing at its mouth. Lord Ragnall and I cantered
after it past the wagons, fearing disaster. All of a sudden it swerved
violently and Savage flew into the air, landing heavily in a sitting
posture.

"Poor Beans!" ejaculated Lord Ragnall as we sped forward. "I expect
there is an end of his journeyings."

To our surprise, however, we saw him leap from the ground with the most
marvellous agility and begin to dance about slapping at his posterior
parts and shouting,

"Take it off! Kill it!"

A few seconds later we discovered the reason. The horse had shied at
a sleeping puff adder which was curled up in the sand of that little
frequented road, and on this puff adder Savage had descended with
so much force, for he weighed thirteen stone, that the creature was
squashed quite flat and never stirred again. This, however, he did not
notice in his agitation, being convinced indeed that it was hanging to
him behind like a bulldog.

"Snakes! my lord," he exclaimed, when at last after careful search we
demonstrated to him that the adder had died before it could come into
action.

"I hate 'em, my lord, and they haunts" (he said 'aunts) "me. If ever
I get out of this I'll go and live in Ireland, my lord, where they
say there ain't none. But it isn't likely that I shall," he added
mournfully, "for the omen is horrid."

"On the contrary," I answered, "it is splendid, for you have killed the
snake and not the snake you. 'The dog it was that died,' Savage."

After this the Kafirs gave Savage a second very long name which meant
"He-who-sits-down-on-snakes-and-makes-them-flat." Having remounted him
on his horse, which was standing patiently a few yards away, at
length we got off. I lingered a minute behind the others to give some
directions to my old Griqua gardener, Jack, who snivelled at parting
with me, and to take a last look at my little home. Alack! I feared it
might be the last indeed, knowing as I did that this was a dangerous
enterprise upon which I found myself embarked, I who had vowed that I
would be done with danger.

With a lump in my throat I turned from the contemplation of that
peaceful dwelling and happy garden in which each tree and plant was dear
to me, and waving a good-bye to Jack, cantered on to where Ragnall was
waiting for me.

"I am afraid this is rather a sad hour for you, who are leaving your
little boy and your home," he said gently, "to face unknown perils."

"Not so sad as others I have passed," I answered, "and perils are my
daily bread in every sense of the word. Moreover, whatever it is for me
it is for you also."

"No, Quatermain. For me it is an hour of hope; a faint hope, I admit,
but the only one left, for the letters I got last night from Egypt and
England report that no clue whatsoever has been found, and indeed that
the search for any has been abandoned. Yes, I follow the last star left
in my sky and if it sets I hope that I may set also, at any rate to this
world. Therefore I am happier than I have been for months, thanks to
you," and he stretched out his hand, which I shook.

It was a token of friendship and mutual confidence which I am glad to
say nothing that happened afterwards ever disturbed for a moment.



CHAPTER IX

THE MEETING IN THE DESERT

Now I do not propose to describe all our journey to Kendahland, or at
any rate the first part thereof. It was interesting enough in its way
and we met with a few hunting adventures, also some others. But there is
so much to tell of what happened to us after we reached the place that
I have not the time, even if I had the inclination to set all these
matters down. Let it be sufficient, then, to say that although owing
to political events the country happened to be rather disturbed at the
time, we trekked through Zululand without any great difficulty. For
here my name was a power in the land and all parties united to help me.
Thence, too, I managed to dispatch three messengers, half-bred border
men, lean fellows and swift of foot, forward to the king of the Mazitu,
as Hans had suggested that I should do, advising him that his old
friends, Macumazana, Watcher-by-Night, and the yellow man who was named
Light-in-Darkness and Lord-of-the-Fire, were about to visit him again.

As I knew we could not take the wagons beyond a certain point where
there was a river called the Luba, unfordable by anything on wheels, I
requested him, moreover, to send a hundred bearers with whatever escort
might be necessary, to meet us on the banks of that river at a spot
which was known to both of us. These words the messengers promised to
deliver for a fee of five head of cattle apiece, to be paid on their
return, or to their families if they died on the road, which cattle we
purchased and left in charge of a chief, who was their kinsman. As it
happened two of the poor fellows did die, one of them of cold in a swamp
through which they took a short cut, and the other at the teeth of a
hungry lion. The third, however, won through and delivered the message.

After resting for a fortnight in the northern parts of Zululand, to give
time to our wayworn oxen to get some flesh on their bones in the warm
bushveld where grass was plentiful even in the dry season, we trekked
forward by a route known to Hans and myself. Indeed it was the
same which we had followed on our journey from Mazituland after our
expedition in search for the Holy Flower.

We took with us a small army of Zulu bearers. This, although they were
difficult to feed in a country where no corn could be bought, proved
fortunate in the end, since so many of our cattle died from tsetse bite
that we were obliged to abandon one of the wagons, which meant that
the goods it contained must be carried by men. At length we reached the
banks of the river, and camped there one night by three tall peaks
of rock which the natives called "The Three Doctors," where I had
instructed the messengers to tell the Mazitu to meet us. For four days
we remained here, since rains in the interior had made the river quite
impassable. Every morning I climbed the tallest of the "Doctors" and
with my glasses looked over its broad yellow flood, searching the wide,
bush-clad land beyond in the hope of discovering the Mazitu advancing to
meet us. Not a man was to be seen, however, and on the fourth evening,
as the river had now become fordable, we determined that we would cross
on the morrow, leaving the remaining wagon, which it was impossible to
drag over its rocky bottom, to be taken back to Natal by our drivers.

Here a difficulty arose. No promise of reward would induce any of our
Zulu bearers even to wet their feet in the waters of this River Luba,
which for some reason that I could not extract from them they declared
to be _tagati_, that is, bewitched, to people of their blood. When I
pointed out that three Zulus had already undertaken to cross it, they
answered that those men were half-breeds, so that for them it was only
half bewitched, but they thought that even so one or more of them would
pay the penalty of death for this rash crime.

It chanced that this happened, for, as I have said, two of the poor
fellows did die, though not, I think, owing to the magical properties
of the waters of the Luba. This is how African superstitions are kept
alive. Sooner or later some saying of the sort fulfils itself and then
the instance is remembered and handed down for generations, while
other instances in which nothing out of the common has occurred are not
heeded, or are forgotten.

This decision on the part of those stupid Zulus put us in an awkward
fix, since it was impossible for us to carry over all our baggage and
ammunition without help. Therefore glad was I when before dawn on the
fifth morning the nocturnal Hans crept into the wagon, in the after
part of which Ragnall and I were sleeping, and informed us that he heard
men's voices on the farther side of the river, though how he could hear
anything above that roar of water passed my comprehension.

At the first break of dawn again we climbed the tallest of the "Doctor"
rocks and stared into the mist. At length it rolled away and there on
the farther side of the river I saw quite a hundred men who by their
dress and spears I knew to be Mazitu. They saw me also and raising a
cheer, dashed into the water, groups of them holding each other round
the middle to prevent their being swept away. Thereupon our silly Zulus
seized their spears and formed up upon the bank. I slid down the steep
side of the "Great Doctor" and ran forward, calling out that these were
friends who came.

"Friends or foes," answered their captain sullenly, "it is a pity that
we should walk so far and not have a fight with those Mazitu dogs."

Well, I drove them off to a distance, not knowing what might happen if
the two peoples met, and then went down to the bank. By now the Mazitu
were near, and to my delight at the head of them I perceived no other
than my old friend, their chief general, Babemba, a one-eyed man with
whom Hans and I had shared many adventures. Through the water he plunged
with great bounds and reaching the shore, greeted me literally with
rapture.

"O Macumazana," he said, "little did I hope that ever again I should
look upon your face. Welcome to you, a thousand welcomes, and to you
too, Light-in-Darkness, Lord-of-the-Fire, Cunning-one whose wit saved us
in the battle of the Gate. But where is Dogeetah, where is Wazeela, and
where are the Mother and the Child of the Flower?"

"Far away across the Black Water, Babemba," I answered. "But here are
two others in place of them," and I introduced him to Ragnall and Savage
by their native names of Igeza and Bena.

He contemplated them for a moment, then said:

"This," pointing to Ragnall, "is a great lord, but this," pointing to
Savage, who was much the better dressed of the two, "is a cock of the
ashpit arrayed in an eagle's feathers," a remark I did not translate,
but one which caused Hans to snigger vacuously.

While we breakfasted on food prepared by the "Cock of the Ashpit," who
amongst many other merits had that of being an excellent cook, I heard
all the news. Bausi the king was dead but had been succeeded by one
of his sons, also named Bausi, whom I remembered. Beza-Town had been
rebuilt after the great fire that destroyed the slavers, and much more
strongly fortified than before. Of the slavers themselves nothing more
had been seen, or of the Pongo either, though the Mazitu declared that
their ghosts, or those of their victims, still haunted the island in the
lake. That was all, except the ill tidings as to two of our messengers
which the third, who had returned with the Mazitu, reported to us.

After breakfast I addressed and sent away our Zulus, each with a
handsome present from the trade goods, giving into their charge the
remaining wagon and our servants, none of whom, somewhat to my relief,
wished to accompany us farther. They sang their song of good-bye,
saluted and departed over the rise, still looking hungrily behind them
at the Mazitu, and we were very pleased to see the last of them without
bloodshed or trouble.

When we had watched the white tilt of the wagon vanish, we set to work
to get ourselves and our goods across the river. This we accomplished
safely, for the Mazitu worked for us like friends and not as do hired
men. On the farther bank, however, it took us two full days so to divide
up the loads that the bearers could carry them without being overladen.

At length all was arranged and we started. Of the month's trek that
followed there is nothing to tell, except that we completed it without
notable accidents and at last reached the new Beza-Town, which much
resembled the old, where we were accorded a great public reception.
Bausi II himself headed the procession which met us outside the south
gate on that very mound which we had occupied in the great fight, where
the bones of the gallant Mavovo and my other hunters lay buried. Almost
did it seem to me as though I could hear their deep voices joining in
the shouts of welcome.

That night, while the Mazitu feasted in our honour, we held an _indaba_
in the big new guest house with Bausi II, a pleasant-faced young
man, and old Babemba. The king asked us how long we meant to stay at
Beza-Town, intimating his hope that the visit would be prolonged. I
replied, but a few days, as we were travelling far to the north to find
a people called the Kendah whom we wished to see, and hoped that he
would give us bearers to carry our goods as far as the confines of their
country. At the name of Kendah a look of astonishment appeared upon
their faces and Babemba said:

"Has madness seized you, Macumazana, that you would attempt this thing?
Oh surely you must be mad."

"You thought us mad, Babemba, when we crossed the lake to Rica Town, yet
we came back safely."

"True, Macumazana, but compared to the Kendah the Pongo were but as the
smallest star before the face of the sun."

"What do you know of them then?" I asked. "But stay--before you answer,
I will speak what I know," and I repeated what I had learned from Hans,
who confirmed my words, and from Harut and Marut, leaving out, however,
any mention of their dealings with Lady Ragnall.

"It is all true," said Babemba when I had finished, "for that old woman
of whom Light-in-the-Darkness speaks, was one of the wives of my uncle
and I knew her well. Hearken! These Kendah are a terrible nation and
countless in number and of all the people the fiercest. Their king is
called Simba, which means Lion. He who rules is always called Simba,
and has been so called for hundreds of years. He is of the Black Kendah
whose god is the elephant Jana, but as Light-in-Darkness has said, there
are also the White Kendah who are Arab men, the priests and traders of
the people. The Kendah will allow no stranger within their doors; if one
comes they kill him by torment, or blind him and turn him out into the
desert which surrounds their country, there to die. These things the
old woman who married my uncle told me, as she told them to
Light-in-Darkness, also I have heard them from others, and what she
did not tell me, that the White Kendah are great breeders of the beasts
called camels which they sell to the Arabs of the north. Go not near
them, for if you pass the desert the Black Kendah will kill you; and
if you escape these, then their king, Simba, will kill you; and if you
escape him, then their god Jana will kill you; and if you escape him,
then their white priests will kill you with their magic. Oh! long before
you look upon the faces of those priests you will be dead many times
over."

"Then why did they ask me to visit them, Babemba?"

"I know not, Macumazana, but perhaps because they wished to make an
offering of you to the god Jana, whom no spear can harm; no, nor even
your bullets that pierce a tree."

"I am willing to make trial of that matter," I answered confidently,
"and any way we must go to see these things for ourselves."

"Yes," echoed Ragnall, "we must certainly go," while even Savage, for I
had been translating to them all this while, nodded his head although he
looked as though he would much rather stay behind.

"Ask him if there are any snakes there, sir," he said, and foolishly
enough I put the question to give me time to think of other things.

"Yes, O Bena. Yes, O Cock of the Ashpit," replied Babemba. "My uncle's
Kendar wife told me that one of the guardians of the shrine of the White
Kendah is such a snake as was never seen elsewhere in the world."

"Then say to him, sir," said Savage, when I had translated almost
automatically, "that shrine ain't a church where _I_ shall go to say my
prayers."

Alas! poor Savage little knew the future and its gifts.

Then we came to the question of bearers. The end of it was that after
some hesitation Bausi II, because of his great affection for us,
promised to provide us with these upon our solemnly undertaking to
dismiss them at the borders of the desert, "so that they might escape
our doom," as he remarked cheerfully.

Four days later we started, accompanied by about one hundred and twenty
picked men under the command of old Babemba himself, who, he explained,
wished to be the last to see us alive in the world. This was depressing,
but other circumstances connected with our start were calculated to
weigh even more upon my spirit. Thus the night before we left Hans
arrived and asked me to "write a paper" for him. I inquired what he
wanted me to put in the paper. He replied that as he was going to his
death and had property, namely the L650 that had been left in a bank to
his credit, he desired to make a "white man's will" to be left in the
charge of Babemba. The only provision of the said will was that I was to
inherit his property, if I lived. If I died, which, he added, "of course
you must, Baas, like the rest of us," it was to be devoted to furnishing
poor black people in hospital with something comforting to drink instead
of the "cow's water" that was given to them there. Needless to say
I turned him out at once, and that testamentary deposition remained
unrecorded. Indeed it was unnecessary, since, as I reminded him, on my
advice he had already made a will before we left Durban, a circumstance
that he had quite forgotten.

The second event, which occurred about an hour before our departure,
was, that hearing a mighty wailing in the market-place where once Hans
and I had been tied to stakes to be shot to death with arrows, I went
out to see what was the matter. At the gateway I was greeted by the
sight of about a hundred old women plastered all over with ashes,
engaged in howling their loudest in a melancholy unison. Behind these
stood the entire population of Beza-Town, who chanted a kind of chorus.

"What the devil are they doing?" I asked of Hans.

"Singing our death-song, Baas," he replied stolidly, "as they say that
where we are going no one will take the trouble to do so, and it is
not right that great lords should die and the heavens above remain
uninformed that they are coming."

"That's cheerful," I remarked, and wheeling round, asked Ragnall
straight out if he wished to persevere in this business, for to tell the
truth my nerve was shaken.

"I must," he answered simply, "but there is no reason why you and Hans
should, or Savage either for the matter of that."