 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Alan Quattermane by H. Ryder Haggard, Chapter 7. A slaughter, grim and great. Then there was a pause, and we stood there in the chilly, silent darkness waiting till the moment came to start. It was perhaps the most trying time of all, that slow, slow quarter of an hour. The minutes seemed to drag along with leaden feet, and the quiet, the solemn hush that brooded over all, big as it were with a coming fate, was most oppressive to the spirits. I once remember having to get up before dawn to see a man hanged, and I then went through a very similar set of sensations. Only in the present instance, my feelings were animated by that more vivid and personal element, which naturally appertains rather to the person to be operated on than to the most sympathetic spectator. The solemn faces of the men, well aware that the short passage of an hour would mean for some, and perhaps all of them, the last great passage to the unknown or oblivion, the baited whispers in which they spoke, even Sir Henry's continuous and thoughtful examination of his woodcutter's axe, and the fidgety way in which Good kept polishing his eyeglass, all told the same tale of nerves stretched pretty nigh to breaking point. Only Ums Lobogas, leaning as usual upon Incosikas and taking an occasional pinch of snuff, was to all appearance perfectly and completely unmoved. Nothing could touch his iron nerves. The moon went down. For a long while she had been getting nearer and nearer to the horizon. Now she finally sank and left the world in darkness, save for a faint gray tinge in the eastern sky that palely heralded the dawn. Mr. McKenzie stood, watch in hand, his wife clinging to his arm and striving to stifle her sobs. Twenty minutes to four, he said. It ought to be light enough to attack at twenty minutes past four. Captain Good had better be moving. He will want three or four minutes to start. Good gave one final polish to his eyeglass, nodded to us in a jocular sort of way, which I could not help feeling it must have cost him something to muster up. And Everpolite took off his steel-lined cap to Mrs. McKenzie and started for his position at the head of the corral, to reach which he had to make a detour by some paths known to the natives. Just then one of the boys came in and reported that everybody in the messiah camp, with the exception of the two sentries who were walking up and down in front of their respective entrances, appeared to be fast asleep. Then the rest of us took the road. First came the guide, then Sir Henry, Umslopogas, the Wakwafi Asgari, and Mr. McKenzie's two mission natives armed with long spears and shields. I followed immediately after with Alphonse and five natives, all armed with guns, and Mr. McKenzie brought up the rear with the six remaining natives. The cattle-crow, or the messiah were camped, lay at the foot of the hill on which the house stood, or roughly speaking, about 800 yards from the mission buildings. The first 500 yards of this distance we traversed quietly indeed, but at a good pace. After that we crept forward as silently as a leopard on his prey, gliding like ghosts from bush to bush and stone to stone. When I had gone a little way I chanced to look behind me, and saw the redoubtable Alphonse staggering along with white face and trembling knees, and his rifle, which was at full cock, pointed directly at the small of my back. Having halted and carefully put the rifle at safety, we started again, and all went well till we were within 100 yards or so of the corral. When his teeth began to chatter in the most aggressive way, If you don't stop that I will kill you, I whispered savagely, for the idea of having all our lives sacrificed to a tooth-chattering cook was too much for me. I began to fear that he would betray us, and heartily wished we had left him behind. But, Monsieur, I cannot help it, he answered, it is the cold. Here was a dilemma, but fortunately I devised a plan. In the pocket of the coat I had on was a small piece of dirty rag that I had used some time before to clean a gun with. Put this in your mouth, I whispered again giving him the rag, and if I hear another sound you are a dead man. I knew that that would stifle the clatter of his teeth. I must have looked as if I meant what I said, for he instantly obeyed me, and continued his journey in silence. Then we crept on again. At last we were within 50 yards of the corral. Between us and it was an open space of sloping grass with only one mimosa bush and a couple of tussocks of a sort of thistle for cover. We were still hidden in fairly thick bush. It was beginning to grow light. The stars had paled, and a sickly gleam played about the east and was reflected on the earth. We could see the outline of the corral clearly enough, and could also make out the faint glimmer of the dying embers of the messiah campfires. We halted and watched, for the century we knew was posted at the opening. Presently he appeared, a fine tall fellow walking idly up and down within five paces of the thorn-stopped entrance. We had hoped to catch him napping, but it was not to be. He seemed particularly wide awake. If we could not kill that man and kill him silently, we were lost. There we crouched and watched him. Presently Umslopogos, who was a few paces ahead of me, turned and made a sign, and next second I saw him go down on his stomach like a snake, and taking an opportunity when the century's head was turned, began to work his way through the grass without a sound. The unconscious century commenced to hum a little tune, and Umslopogos crept on. He reached the shelter of the mimosa bush, unperceived, and there waited. Still the century walked up and down. Presently he turned and looked over the wall into the camp. Instantly the human snake who was stalking him glided on ten yards and got behind one of the tussocks of the thistle-like plant, reaching it as the elmeran turned again. As he did so his eye fell upon this patch of thistles, and it seemed to strike him that it did not look quite right. He advanced a pace towards it, halted, yawned, stooped down, picked up a little pebble, and threw it at it. It hit Umslopogos upon the head, luckily not upon the armor shirt. Had it done so the clink would have betrayed us. Luckily too the shirt was browned and not bright steel, which would certainly have been detected. Apparently satisfied that there was nothing wrong, he then gave over his investigations and contended himself with leaning on his spear and standing gazing idly at the tuft. For at least three minutes did he stand thus. Plunged apparently in a gentle reverie. And there we lay, in the last extremity of anxiety, expecting every moment that we should be discovered, or that some untoward accident would happen. I could hear Alphonse's teeth going like anything on the oil-drag, and turning my head round made an awful face at him. But I am bound to state that my own heart was at much the same game as the Frenchman's castanets, while the perspiration was pouring from my body, causing the washed leather-lined shirt to stick to me unpleasantly. And altogether I was in the pitiable state known by school boys as a blue fright, at last the ordeal came to an end. The century glanced at the east, and appeared to note with satisfaction that his period of duty was coming to an end, as indeed it was, once and for all. For he rubbed his hands and began to walk again briskly to warm himself. The moment his back was turned, the long black snake glided on again and reached the other thistle tuft, which was within a couple of paces of his return beat. Back came the century and strolled right past the tuft, utterly unconscious of the presence that was crouching behind it. Had he looked down, he could scarcely have failed to see, but he did not do so. He passed, and then his hidden enemy erected himself and without stretch hand followed in his tracks. A moment more, and just as the Elmeran was about to turn, the great Zulu made a spring, and in the growing light we could see his long, lean hands close round the Massai's throat. Then followed a convulsive twining of the two dark bodies, and in another second I saw the Massai's head bent back and heard a sharp crack, something like that of a dry twig snapping, and he fell down upon the ground, his limbs moving spasmodically. Umslopogas had put out all his iron strength and broken the warrior's neck. For a moment he knelt upon his victim, still gripping his throat till he was sure that there was nothing more to fear from him, and then he rose and beckoned to us to advance, which we did on all fours like a colony of huge apes. Unreaching the corral, we saw that the Massai had still further choked this entrance, which was about ten feet wide, no doubt in order to guard against attack. By dragging four or five tops of mimosa trees up to it. So much the better for us, I reflected, the more obstruction there was, the slower they would be able to come through. Here we separated. Mackenzie and his party creeping up under the shadow of the wall to the left, while Sir Henry and Umslopogas took their stations, one on each side of the thorn fence, the two spearmen and the Ascari lying down in front of it. I and my men crept on up the right side of the corral, which was about fifty paces long. When I was two-thirds up, I halted, and placed my men at distances of four paces from one another, keeping alphons close to me, however. Then I peeped for the first time over the wall. It was getting fairly light now, and the first thing I saw was the white donkey, exactly opposite to me, and close by it I could make out the pale face of little Flossy, who was sitting as the lad had described some ten paces from the wall. Round her lay many warriors, sleeping. At distances all over the surface of the corral were the remains of fires, round each of which slept some five-and-twenty Maasai. For the most part, gorged with food. Now and then a man would raise himself, yawn, and look at the east, which was turning primrose. But none got up. I determined to wait another five minutes, both to allow the light to increase so that we could make better shooting, and to give good in his party, of whom we could see or hear nothing, every opportunity to make ready. The quiet dawn began to throw her ever-widening mantle over plain and forest and river. Mighty Kinya, wrapped in the silence of eternal snows, looked out across the earth, till presently a beam from the unrisened sun lit upon his heaven-kissing crest, and purpled it with blood. The sky above grew blue, and tender as a mother's smile. A bird began to pipe his morning-song, and a little breeze passing through the bush shook down the dew-drops in millions to refresh the waking world. Everywhere was peace and the happiness of a rising strength. Everywhere saved in the heart of cruel man. Suddenly, just as I was nerving myself for the signal, having already selected my man on whom I meant to open fire, a great fellow sprawling on the ground within three feet of little flossy, Alphonse's teeth began to chatter again like the hoofs of a galloping giraffe making a great noise in the silence. The rag had dropped out in the agitation of his mind. Instantly a messiah within three paces of us woke, and sitting up gazed about him, looking for the cause of the sound. Moved beyond myself, I brought the butt end of my rifle down onto the pit of the Frenchman's stomach. This stopped his chattering. But as he doubled up, he managed to let off his gun in such a manner that the bullet passed within an inch of my head. There was no need for a signal now. From both sides of the crowd broke out a waving line of fire, in which I myself joined, managing with a snapshot to knock over my messiah by flossy, just as he was jumping up. Then from the top end of the crowd there rang an awful yell, in which I rejoiced to recognize Good's piercing notes rising clear and shrill above the den. And in another second followed such a scene, as I have never seen before, nor shall again. With a universal howl of terror and fury, the brawny crowd of savages within the corral sprang to their feet, many of them to fall again beneath our well-directed hail of lead before they had moved a yard. For a moment they stood undecided, and then, hearing the cries and curses that rose unceasingly from the top end of the corral, and bewildered by the storm of bullets, they, as by one impulse, rushed down towards the thorn-stopped entrance. As they went, we kept pouring our fire with terrible effect into the thickening mob, as fast as we could load. I had emptied my repeater of the ten shots it contained, and was just beginning to slip in some more when I bethought me of little flossy. Looking up, I saw that the white donkey was lying, kicking, having been knocked over, either by one of our bullets or a Messiah spear thrust. There were no living Messiah near, but the black nurse was on her feet, and with a spear, cutting the rope that bound flossy's feet. Next second she ran to the wall of the corral and began to climb over it, an example which the little girl followed. But flossy was evidently very stiff and cramped, and could only go slowly. And as she went, two Messiah flying down the corral caught sight of her and rushed towards her to kill her. The first fellow came up, just as the poor little girl, after a desperate effort to climb the wall, fell back into the corral, upflashed the great spear. And as it did so, a bullet from my rifle found its home in the holder's ribs, and over he went like a shot rabbit. But behind him was the other man, and alas, I had only that one cartridge in the magazine. Flossy had scrambled to her feet and was facing the second man, who was advancing with raised spear. I turned my head aside and felt sick as death. I could not bear to see him stab her. Glancing up again to my surprise, I saw the Messiah spear lying on the ground, while the man himself was staggering about with both hands to his head. Suddenly I saw a puff of smoke proceeding apparently from Flossy, and the man fell down headlong. Then I remembered the Derringer pistol she carried, and saw that she had fired both barrels of it at him, thereby saving her life. In another instant she had made an effort and assisted by the nurse who was lying on the top, and scrambled over the wall, and I knew that she was, comparatively speaking, safe. All this takes time to tell, but I do not suppose that it took more than fifteen seconds to enact. I soon got the magazine of the repeater filled again with cartridges, and once more opened fire, not on the seething black mass which was gathering at the end of the corral, but on fugitives who bethought them to climb the wall. I picked off several of these men, moving down towards the end of the corral as I did so, and arriving at the corner, or rather the bend of the oval, in time to see, and by means of my rifle to assist in, the mighty struggle that took place there. By this time some two hundred Messiah, allowing that we had up to the present accounted for fifty, had gathered together in front of the thorn-stopped entrance, driven thither by the spears of goodsmen whom they doubtless supposed were a large force instead of being but ten strong. For some reason it never occurred to them to try and rush the wall, which they could have scrambled over with comparative ease. They all made for the fence, which was really a strongly interwoven fortification. With a bound the first warrior went at it, and even before he touched the ground on the other side, I saw Sir Henry's great axe swing up and fall with awful force upon his feather-headpiece, and he sank into the middle of the thorns. Then with a yell and a crash they began to break through as they might, and ever as they came the great axe swung, and in Kosikos flashed, and they fell dead, one by one, each man thus helping to build up a barrier against his fellows. Those who escaped the axes of the pair fell at the hands of the Ascari, and the two mission kafirs, and those who passed scatheless from them were brought low by my own and Mackenzie's fire. Faster and more furious grew the fighting, single Maasai would spring upon the dead bodies of their comrades and engage one or the other of the axe men with their long spears. But, thanks chiefly to the male shirts, the result was always the same. Presently there was a great swing of the axe, a crashing sound, and another dead Maasai. That is, if the man was engaged with Sir Henry. If it was him Slopogos that he fought with, the result indeed would be the same. But it would be differently attained. It was but rarely that the Zulu used the crashing double-handed stroke. On the contrary, he did little more than tap continually at his adversary's head, pecking at it with the poleaxe end of the axe as a woodpecker pecks at rotten wood. End note. As I think I have already said, one of whom Slopogos's Zulu names was the woodpecker. I could never make out why he was called so until I saw him in action within Kosikos when I at once recognized the resemblance. Alan Quatermain. Presently a peck would go home and his enemy would drop down with a neat little circular hole in his forehead or skull, exactly similar to that which a cheese scoop makes in a cheese. He never used the broad blade of the axe except when hard-pressed or when striking at a shield. He told me afterwards that he did not consider it sportsmen-like. Good and his men were quite close by now, and our people had to cease firing into the mass for fear of killing some of them. As it was, one of them was slain in this way. Mad and desperate with fear, the Maasai, by a frantic effort, burst through the thorn fence and piled up dead and sweeping Curtis, whom Slopogos and the other three before them into the open. And now it was that we began to lose men fast. Down went our poor Skari, who was armed with the axe, a great spear standing out a foot behind his back, and before long the two spearsmen who had stood with him went down too, dying fighting like tigers. And others of our party shared their fate. For a moment I feared the fight was lost. Certainly it trembled in the balance. I shouted to my men to cast down their rifles and to take spears and throw themselves into the melee. They obeyed, their blood being now thoroughly up, and Mr. McKenzie's people followed their example. This move had a momentary good result, but still the fight hung in the balance. Our people fought magnificently, hurling themselves upon the dark mass of Elmeran, hewing, thrusting, slaying, and being slain. And ever above the din rose Good's awful yell of encouragement as he plunged to wherever the fight was thickest. And ever with an almost machine-like regularity the two axes rose and fell, carrying death and disablement at every stroke. But I could see that the strain was beginning to tell upon Sir Henry, who was bleeding from several flesh wounds. His breath was coming in gasps, and the veins stood out in his forehead like blue and knotted cords. Even Umslopogas, man of iron that he was, was hard-pressed. I noticed that he had given up wood-pecking and was now using the broad blade of Incosikas browning his enemy whenever he could hit him instead of drilling scientific holes in his head. I myself did not go into the melee, but hovered outside like the swift back in a football scrimmage, putting a bullet through a messiah whenever I got a chance. I was more use so. I fired forty-nine cartridges that morning, and I did not miss many shots. Presently, due as we would, the beam of the balance began to rise against us. We had not more than fifteen or sixteen effectives left now, and the messiah had at least fifty. Of course, if they had kept their heads and shaken themselves together, they could soon have made an end of the matter. But that is just what they did not do, not having yet recovered from their start, and some of them having actually fled from their sleeping places without their weapons. Still, by now, many individuals were fighting with their normal courage and discretion, and this alone was sufficient to defeat us. To make matters worse just then, when Mackenzie's rifle was empty, a brawny savage armed with a cime or sword made a rush for him. The clergyman flung down his gun, and drawing his huge carver from his elastic belt, his revolver had dropped out in the fight. They closed in desperate struggle. Presently locked in a close embrace, missionary and messiah rolled on the ground behind the wall. For some time I, being amply occupied with my own affairs, and in keeping my skin from being pricked, remained in ignorance of his fate or how the duel had ended. To and fro surged the fight, slowly turning round like the vortex of a human whirlpool, and the matter began to look very bad for us. Just then, however, a fortunate thing happened. Umslopogos, either by accident or design, broke out of the ring and engaged a warrior at some few paces from it. As he did so, another man ran up and struck him with all his force between his shoulders with his great spear, which, falling on the tough steel shirt, failed to pierce it and rebounded. For a moment the man stared aghast, protective armor being unknown among these tribes, and then he yelled out at the top of his voice, They are devils bewitched, bewitched, and seized by a sudden panic he threw down his spear and began to fly. I cut short his career with a bullet, and Umslopogos brained his man, and then the panic spread to the others. Bewitched, bewitched, they cried, and tried to escape in every direction, utterly demoralized and broken-spirited, for the most part even throwing down their shields and spears. On the last scene of that dreadful fight I need not dwell. It was a slaughter, great and grim, in which no quarter was asked or given. One incident, however, is worth detailing. Just as I was hoping that it was all done with, suddenly from under a heap of slain where he had been hiding, an unwounded warrior sprang up and clearing the piles of dying and dead like an antelope, and like the wind up the corral towards the spot where I was standing at the moment. But he was not alone, for Umslopogos came gliding on his tracks with the peculiar swallow-like motion for which he was noted, and as they neared me I recognized in the messai the herald of the previous night. Finding that run as he would his pursuer was gaining on him, the man halted and turned round to give battle. Umslopogos also pulled up. Ah! he cried in mockery to the Elmeran. It is thou whom I talked with last night. The Lagonani, the herald, the capturer of little girls, he who would kill a little girl. And thou didst hope to stand man to man and face-to-face with Umslopogos, an induna of the tribe of the Maquilicini of the people of the Amazulu. Behold, thy prayer is granted, and I did swear to you the limb from limb, thou insolent dog. Behold, I will do it even now. The messai ground his teeth with fury and charged at the Zulu with his spear. As he came, Umslopogos deftly stepped aside, and swinging in Kosikos high above his head with both hands, brought the broad blade down with such fearful force from behind upon the messai's shoulder, just where the neck is set into the frame, that its razor edge, shore right through bone and flesh and muscle, almost severing the head and one arm from the body. Oh! ejaculated Umslopogos, contemplating the corpse of his foe. I have kept my word. It was a good stroke. End of Chapter 7. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Alan Quatermane by H. Ryder Haggard Chapter 8 Alphonse Explains And so the fight was ended. On returning from the shocking scene, it suddenly struck me that I had seen nothing of Alphonse since the moment some twenty minutes before. For though this fight has taken a long while to describe, it did not take long in reality. When I had been forced to hit him in the wind with the result of nearly getting myself shot. Fearing that the poor little man had perished in the battle, I began to hunt among the dead for his body. But not being able either to see or hear anything of it, I concluded that he must have survived and walked down the side of the corral where we had first taken our stand, calling him by name. Now some fifteen paces back from the corral wall stood a very ancient tree of the banyan species. So ancient was it that all the inside had in the course of ages decayed away, leaving nothing but a shell of bark. Alphonse—I called as I walked down the wall— Alphonse! We, monsieur—answered a voice. Here am I. I looked round, but could see nobody. Where? I cried. Here am I, monsieur, in the tree. I looked, and there peering out of a hole in the trunk of the banyan, about five feet from the ground, I saw a pale face and a pair of large moustachios, one clip short, and the other as lamentably out of curl as the tail of a newly whipped pug. Then, for the first time, I realized what I had suspected before. Namely, that Alphonse was an errant coward. I walked up to him. Come out of that hole, I said. Is it finished, monsieur? he asked anxiously. Quite finished? Are the horrors I have undergone, and the prayers I have uttered? Come out, you little wretch, I said, for I did not feel amiable. It is all over. So, monsieur, then my prayers have prevailed. I emerge, and he did. As we were walking down together to join the others, who were gathered in a group by the wide entrance to the corral, which now resembled a veritable charnel-house, a messai who had escaped so far and been hiding under a bush, suddenly sprang up and charged furiously at us. Off went Alphonse with a howl of terror, and after him flew the messai, bent upon doing some execution before he died. He soon overtook the poor little Frenchman, and would have finished him then and there, had I not, just as Alphonse, made a last agonized double in the vain hope of avoiding the yard of steel that was flashing in his immediate rear, managed to put a bullet between the El Moran's broad shoulders, which brought matters to a satisfactory conclusion so far as the Frenchman was concerned. But just then he tripped and fell flat, and the body of the messai fell right on the top of him, moving convulsively in the death-struggle. Thereupon there arose such a series of piercing howls that I concluded that before he died the savage must have managed to stab poor Alphonse. I ran up in a hurry and pulled the messai off, and there beneath him lay Alphonse covered with blood and jerking himself about like a galvanized frog. Poor fellow thought I he is done for, and kneeling down by him I began to search for his wound as well as his struggles would allow. Oh, the hole in my back! He yelled, I am murdered! I am dead! Oh, Annette! I searched again, but could see no wound. Then the truth dawned on me. The man was frightened, not hurt. Get up! I shouted, Get up! Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You are not touched. Thereupon he rose, not a penny the worse. But, Monsieur, I thought I was, he said apologetically. I did not know that I had conquered. Then, giving the body of the messai a kick, he ejaculated triumphantly, Ah, dog of a black savage, thou art dead! What victory! Thoroughly disgusted I left Alphonse to look after himself, which he did by following me like a shadow, and proceeded to join the others by the large entrance. The first thing that I saw was Mackenzie, seated on a stone with a handkerchief twisted round his thigh, from which he was bleeding freely, having indeed received a spear thrust that passed right through it, and still holding in his hand his favorite carving knife, now bent nearly double, from which I gathered that he had been successful and rough and tumble with the El Moran. Ah, quarter-main he sang out in a trembling, excited voice. So we have conquered, but it is a sorry sight, a sorry sight, and then breaking into broad scotch and glancing at the bent knife in his hand. It fascist me, sir, to have bent my best carver on the breastbone of a savage, and he laughed hysterically. Poor fellow, what between his wound and the killing excitement he had undergone, his nerves were much shaken, and no wonder. It is hard upon a man of peace and kindly heart to be called upon to join in such a gruesome business, but there fate puts us sometimes into very comical positions. At the cruel entrance the scene was a strange one. The slaughter was over by now, and the wounded men had been put out of their pain, for no quarter had been given. The bush-closed entrance was trampled flat, and in place of bushes it was filled with the bodies of dead men. Dead men, everywhere dead men. They lay about in knots. They were flung by ones and twos in every position upon the open spaces. For all the world, like the people on the grass in one of the London parks, on a particularly hot Sunday in August. In front of this entrance, on a space which had been cleared of dead, and of the shields and spears which were scattered in all directions as they had fallen or been thrown from the hands of their owners, stood and lay the survivors of the awful struggle, and at their feet were four wounded men. We had gone into the fight thirty strong, and of the thirty, but fifteen remained alive, and five of them, including Mr. McKenzie, were wounded, two mortally. Of those who held the entrance, Curtis and the Zulu alone remained. Good had lost five men killed, I had lost two killed, and McKenzie no less than five out of the six with him. As for the survivors, they were, with the exception of myself, who had never come to close quarters, red from head to foot. Sir Henry's armor might have been painted that color, and utterly exhausted, except Umslobogas, who as he grimly stood on a little mound above a heap of dead, leaning as usual upon his axe, did not seem particularly distressed, although the skin over the hole in his head palpitated violently. Ah, my kumazan! he said to me as I limped up, feeling very sick. I told thee that it would be a good fight, and it has. Never have I seen a better, or one more bravely fought. As for this iron shirt, surely it is Tagati bewitched. Nothing could pierce it. Had it not been for the garment, I should have been there. And he nodded towards the great pile of dead men beneath him. I give it thee. Thou art a brave man, said Sir Henry briefly. Kus answered the Zulu deeply pleased, both at the gift and the compliment. Thou, too, Incubu, didst bear thyself as a man. But I must give thee some lessons with the axe. Thou dost waste thy strength. Just then Mackenzie asked about Flossy, and we were all greatly relieved when one of the men said he had seen her flying towards the house with the nurse. Then, bearing such a the wounded as could be moved at the moment with us, we slowly made our way towards the mission house, spent with toil and bloodshed, but with the glorious sense of victory against overwhelming odds glowing in our hearts. We had saved the life of the little maid, and taught them a sigh of those parts a lesson that they will not forget for ten years. But at what a cost! Painfully we made our way up the hill, which just a little more than an hour before we had descended under such different circumstances. At the gate of the wall stood Mrs. Mackenzie waiting for us. When her eyes fell upon us, however, she shrieked out and covered her face with her hands, crying, Horrible, Horrible! Nor were her fears allayed when she discovered her worthy husband being born upon an improvised stretcher. But her doubts as to the nature of his injury were soon set at rest. Then, when in a few brief words I had told her the upshot of the struggle of which Flossie, who had arrived in safety, had been able to explain something, she came up to me and solemnly kissed me on the forehead. God bless you all, Mr. Quartermain. You have saved my child's life," she said simply. Then we went in and got our clothes off and doctored our wounds. I am glad to say that I had none, and Sir Henry's and Good's were, thanks to those invaluable chain shirts, of a comparatively harmless nature and to be dealt with by means of a few stitches and sticking plaster. Mackenzie's, however, were serious, though fortunately the spear had not severed any large artery. After that we had a bath and what a luxury it was. And having clad ourselves in ordinary clothes proceeded to the dining room where breakfast was set as usual. It was curious sitting down there drinking tea and eating toast in an ordinary nineteenth-century sort of way just as though we had not employed the early hours in a regular, primitive, hand-to-hand, middle-ages kind of struggle. As Good said, the whole thing seemed more as though one had had a bad nightmare just before being called than as a deed done. When we were finishing our breakfast the door opened and in came little flossy, very pale and tottery, but quite unhurt. She kissed us all and thanked us. I congratulated her on the presence of mind she had shown in shooting them aside with her Derringer pistol and thereby saving her own life. Oh, don't talk of it! she said, beginning to cry hysterically. I shall never forget his face as he went turning round and round. Never! I can see it now. I advised her to go to bed and get some sleep, which she did, and awoke in the evening quite recovered so far as her strength was concerned. It struck me as an odd thing that a girl who could find the nerve to shoot a huge black ruffian rushing to kill her with a spear should have been so affected at the thought of it afterwards. But it is, after all, characteristic of the sex. Poor Flossie! I fear that her nerves will not get over that night in the Maasai camp for many a long year. She told me afterwards that it was the suspense that was so awful. Having to sit there hour after hour through the live-long night, utterly ignorant as to whether or not any attempt was to be made to rescue her. She said that on the whole she did not expect it, but few of us and how many of the Maasai who, by the way, came continually to stare at her, most of them never having seen a white person before, and handled her arms and hair with their filthy paws. She said also that she had made up her mind that if she saw no signs of succor by the time the first rays of the rising sun reached the corral, she would kill herself with the pistol. For the nurse had heard the Laganani say that they were to be tortured to death as soon as the sun was up if one of the white men did not come in their place. It was an awful resolution to have to take, but she meant to act on it, and I have little doubt but what she would have done so. Although she was at an age when in England girls are in the school-room and come down to desert, this child of the wilderness had more courage, discretion, and power of mind than many a woman of mature age nurtured in idleness and luxury, with minds carefully drilled and educated out of any originality or self-resource that nature may have endowed them with. When breakfast was over we all turned in and had a good sleep, only getting up in time for dinner, after which meal we once more churned, together with all the available population, men, women, youths, and girls to the scene of the morning slaughter, our object being to bury our own dead and get rid of the Maasai by flinging them into the Tana River, which ran within fifty yards of the corral. On reaching the spot we disturbed thousands upon thousands of vultures and a sort of brown bush eagle which had been flocking to the feast from miles and miles away. Often have I watched these great and repulsive birds and marveled at the extraordinary speed with which they arrive on a scene of slaughter. A buck falls to your rifle and within a minute high in the blue ether appears a speck that gradually grows into a vulture, then another, and another. I have heard many theories advanced to account for the wonderful power of perception nature has given these birds. My own, founded on a good deal of observation, is that the vultures, gifted as they are with powers of sight greater than those given by the most powerful glass, quarter out the heavens among themselves and hanging in mid-air at a vast height probably from two to three miles above the earth. Keep watch, each of them, over an enormous stretch of country. Presently one of them spies food and instantly begins to sink towards it. Thereon his next neighbor in the airy heights sailing leisurely through the blue gulf at a distance perhaps of some miles follows his example knowing that food has been sited. Down he goes, and all the vultures within sight of him follow after, and so do all those inside of them. In this way the vultures for twenty miles round can be summoned to the feast in a few minutes. We buried our dead in solemn silence, good being selected to read the burial service over them. In the absence of Mr. McKenzie confined to bed. As he was generally allowed to possess the best voice and most impressive manner. It was melancholy in the extreme, but as good said it might have been worse for we might have had to bury ourselves. I pointed out that this would have been a difficult feat, but I knew what he meant. Next we set to work to load an ox wagon which had been brought round from the mission with the dead bodies of the Maasai, having first collected the spears, shields, and other arms. We loaded the wagon five times, about fifty bodies to the load, and emptied it into the tana. From this it was evident that very few of the Maasai could have escaped. The crocodiles must have been well fed that night. One of the last bodies we picked up was that of the sentry at the upper end. I asked Good how he managed to kill him, and he told me that he had crept up much as Umslopogos had done and stabbed him with his sword. He groaned a good deal, but fortunately nobody heard him. As Good said, it was a horrible thing to have to do and most unpleasantly like cold-blooded murder. And so, with the last body that floated away down the current of the tana, ended the incident of our attack on the Maasai camp. The spears, and shields, and other arms, we took up to the mission where they filled an outhouse. One incident, however, I must not forget to mention. As we were returning from performing the obsequies of our Maasai friends, we passed the hollow tree where Alphonse had secreted himself in the morning. It so happened that the little man himself was with us assisting in our unpleasant task with a far better will than he had shown where live Maasai were concerned. Indeed, for each body that he handled he found an appropriate sarcasm. Alphonse throwing Maasai into the tana was a very different creature from Alphonse flying for dear life from the spear of a live Maasai. He was quite merry and gay. He clapped his hands in warbled snatches of French songs as the grim dead warriors went splash into the running waters to carry a message of death and defiance to their kindred a hundred miles below. In short, thinking that he wanted taking down a peg, I suggested holding a court-martial on him for his conduct in the morning. Accordingly we brought him to the tree where he had hidden and proceeded to sit in judgment on him, Sir Henry explaining to him in the very best French the unheard of cowardice and enormity of his conduct, more especially in letting the oiled rag out of his mouth whereby he nearly aroused the Maasai camp with teeth chattering and brought about the failure of our plans, ending up with a request for an explanation. But if we expected to find Alphonse at a loss and put him to open shame, we were destined to be disappointed. He bowed and scraped and smiled and acknowledged that his conduct might at first blush appear strange, but really it was not and as much as his teeth were not chattering from fear, oh dear no, oh certainly not, he marveled how the Monsieur could think of such a thing, but from the chill air of the morning. As for the rag, if Monsieur could have but tasted its evil flavor being compounded indeed of a mixture of stale, paraffin oil, grease, and gunpowder, Monsieur himself would have spat it out. But he did nothing of the sort. He determined to keep it there till alas his stomach revolted and the rag was ejected in an excess of involuntary sickness. And what have you to say about getting into the hollow tree? asks Sir Henry, keeping his countenance with difficulty. But Monsieur, the explanation is easy, almost easy. It was thus I stood there by the corral wall and the little gray Monsieur hit me in the stomach so that my rifle exploded and the battle began. I watched whilst recovering myself from Monsieur's cruel blow. Then, Monsieur, I felt the heroic blood of my grandfather boil up in my veins. The sight made me mad. I ground my teeth. Fire flashed from my eyes. I shot it and avante and longed to slay. Before my eyes there rose a vision of my heroic grandfather. In short, I was mad. I was a warrior indeed. But then in my heart I heard a small voice. Alphonse said the voice. Restrain thyself, Alphonse. Give not way to this evil passion. These men, though black, are brothers. And thou would slay them cruel Alphonse. The voice was right. I knew it. I was about to perpetuate the most horrible cruelties. To wound, to massacre, to tear limb from limb. And how restrain myself, I looked round. I saw the tree. I perceived the hole. Intune thyself, said the voice, and hold on tight. Thou wilt thus overcome temptation by main force. It was bitter. Just when the blood of my heroic grandfather boiled most fiercely. But I obeyed. I dragged my unwilling feet along. I entombed myself. Through the hole I watched the battle. I shouted curses and defiance on the foe. I noted them fall with satisfaction. Why not? I had not robbed them of their lives. Their gore was not upon my head. The blood of my heroic— Oh, get along with you, you little cur! broke out, Sir Henry, with a shout of laughter, and giving Alphonse a good kick which sent him flying off with a rueful face. In the evening I had an interview with Mr. McKenzie, who was suffering a good deal from his wounds, which good, who was a skillful though unqualified doctor, was treating him for. He told me that this occurrence had taught him a lesson, and that if he recovered safely, he meant to hand over the mission to a younger man, who was already on his road to join him in his work, and return to England. You see, quite remain, he said, I made up my mind to it this very morning when we were creeping down those benighted savages. If we lived through this and rescue Flossy alive, I said to myself, I will go home to England. I have had enough of savages. Well, I did not think that we should live through it at the time, but thanks be to God and you for we have lived through it, and I mean to stick to my resolution, lest a worse thing befall us. Another such time would kill my poor wife. And besides, quite remain, between you and me I am well off. It is thirty thousand pounds I am worth today, and every farthing of it made by honest trade and savings in the bank at Zanzibar. For living here costs me next to nothing. So though it will be hard to leave this place, which I have made to blossom like a rose in the wilderness, and harder still to leave the people I have taught, I shall go. I congratulate you on your decision, answered I, for two reasons. The first is that you owe a duty to your wife and daughter, and more especially to the latter. Who should receive some education and mix with girls of her own race? Otherwise she will grow up wild, shunning her kind. The other is, that is sure as I am standing here, sooner or later the Messiah will try to avenge the slaughter inflicted on them today. Two or three men are sure to have escaped the confusion, who will carry the story back to their people. And the result will be that a great expedition will one day be sent against you. It might be delayed for a year, but sooner or later it will come. Therefore, if only for that reason, I should go. When once they have learnt that you are no longer here, they may perhaps leave the place alone. End note. By a sad coincidence, since the above is written by Mr. Quatermain, they must I have, in April 1886, massacred a missionary and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Houghton, on this very Tana River and at the spot described. These are, I believe, the first white people who are known to have fallen victims to this cruel tribe. Editor. You are quite right, answered the clergyman. I will turn my back upon this place in a month. But it will be a wrench. It will be a wrench. End of chapter 8. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Alan Quatermain. By H. Ryder Haggard. Chapter 9. Into the Unknown. A week had passed, and we all sat at supper one night in the mission dining room, feeling very much depressed in spirits for the reason that we were going to say goodbye to our kind friend, the MacKenzie's, and depart upon our way at dawn on the morrow. Nothing more had been seen or heard of the Messiah, and saved for a spear or two which had been overlooked and was rusting in the grass, and a few empty cartridges for we had stood outside the wall. It would have been difficult to tell that the old cattle-crow at the foot of the slope had been the scene of so desperate a struggle. MacKenzie was, thanks chiefly to his being so temperate a man, rapidly recovering from his wound, and could get about on a pair of crutches, and as for the other wounded men, one had died of gangrene, the rest were in a fair way to recovery. Mr. MacKenzie's caravan of men had also returned from the coast, so that the station was now amply garrisoned. Under these circumstances, we concluded, warm and pressing as worthy invitations for us to stay, that it was time to move on, first to Mount Kenya, and thence into the unknown, in search of the mysterious white race which we had set our hearts on discovering. This time we were going to progress by means of the humble but useful donkey, of which we had collected no less than a dozen, to carry our goods and chattels, necessary ourselves. We had now but two aquafes left for servants, and found it quite impossible to get other natives to venture with us into the unknown parts we propose to explore, and small blame to them. After all, as Mr. MacKenzie said, it was odd that three men, each of whom possessed many of those things that are supposed to make life worth living, health, sufficient means, and position, etc., should, from their own pleasure, start out upon a wild goose chase from which the chances were they would never return. But then that is what Englishmen are, adventurers to the backbone, in all our magnificent muster-roll of colonies, each of which will in time become a great nation, testify to the extraordinary value of the spirit of adventure, which at first sight looks like a mild form of lunacy. Adventurer, he that goes out to meet whatever may come. Well, that is what we all do in the world one way or another. And speaking for myself, I am proud of the title, because it implies a brave heart and a trust in providence. Besides, when many and many a noted creases, at whose feet the people worship, and many and many a time serving in word-coining politician, are forgotten, the names of those grand-hearted old adventurers who have made England what she is will be remembered and taught with love and pride to little children whose unshaped spirits yet slumber in the womb of centuries to be. Not that we three can expect to be numbered with such as these, yet have we done something, enough, perhaps, to throw a garment over the nakedness of our folly. That evening, whilst we were sitting on the veranda smoking a pipe before turning in, who should come up to us but alfants, and with a magnificent bow announced his wish for an interview. Being requested to fire away, he explained at some length that he was anxious to attach himself to our party, a statement that astonished me not a little, knowing what a coward the little man was. The reason, however, soon appeared. Mr. McKenzie was going down to the coast, and thence on to England. Now, if he went down-country, alfants was persuaded that he would be seized, extradited, sent to France, and to penal servitude. This was the idea that haunted him. As King Charles' head haunted Mr. Dick, and he brooded over it till his imagination exaggerated the danger ten times. As a matter of fact, the probability is that his offense against the laws of his country had long ago been forgotten, and that he would have been allowed to pass unmolested anywhere except in France. But he could not be got to see this. Constitutional coward as the little man was, he infinitely preferred to face the certain hardships and great risks and dangers of such an expedition as ours than to expose himself, notwithstanding his intense longing for his native land, to the possible scrutiny of a police officer. Which is, after all, only another exemplification of the truth that to the majority of men a far-off foreseen danger, however shadowy, is much more terrible than the most serious present emergency. After listening to what he had to say, we consulted among ourselves, and finally agreed, with Mr. McKenzie's knowledge and consent, to accept his offer. To begin with, we were very shorthanded, and Alphonse was a quick, active fellow who could turn his hand to anything. And cook! Ah, he could cook! I believe that he would have made a palatable dish of those gators of his heroic grandfather which he was so fond of talking about. Then he was a good-tempered little man, and merry as a monkey, while his pompous, vain glorious talk was a source of infinite amusement to us. And what is more, he never bore malice. Of course his being so pronounced to coward was a great drawback to him. But now that we knew his weakness we could more or less guard against it. So after warning him of the undoubted risks he was exposing himself to, we told him that we would accept his offer on condition that he would promise implicit obedience to our orders. We also promised to give him wages at the rate of ten pounds a month should he ever return to a civilized country to receive them. To all of this he agreed with alacrity, and retired to write a letter to his Annette, which Mr. McKenzie promised to post when he got down country. He read it to us afterwards, Sir Henry translating, and a wonderful composition it was. I am sure the depth of his devotion and the narration of his sufferings in a barbarous country, far, far from the Annette, for whose adored sake I endure such sorrow ought to have touched the feelings of the stoniest-hearted chambermaid. Well, the morrow came, and by seven o'clock the donkeys were all loaded, and the time of parting was at hand. It was a melancholy business, especially saying good-bye to dear little Flossy. She and I were great friends, and often used to have talks together. But her nerves had never got over the shock of that awful night when she lay in the power of those bloodthirsty Maasai. "'Oh, Mr. Quatermain,' she cried, throwing her arms around my neck and bursting into tears. "'I can't bear to say good-bye to you. "'I wonder when we shall meet again?' "'I don't know, my dear little girl,' I said. "'I am at one end of life, and you are at the other. "'I have but a short time before me at best, "'and most things lie in the past. "'But I hope that for you there are many long and happy years, "'and everything lies in the future. "'By and by you will grow into a beautiful woman, Flossy, "'and all this wild life will be like a far-off dream to you. "'But I hope, even if we never do meet again, "'that you will think of your old friend "'and remember what I say to you now. "'Always try to be good, my dear, "'and to do what is right rather than what happens to be pleasant. "'For in the end, whatever sneering people may say, "'what is good and what is happy are the same. "'Be unselfish, and whenever you can, "'give a helping hand to others. "'For the world is full of suffering, my dear, "'and to alleviate it is the noblest end that we can set before us. "'If you do that, you will become a sweet and God-fearing woman "'and make many people's lives a little brighter, "'and then you will not have lived as so many of your sex do in vain. "'And now I have given you a lot of old-fashioned advice, "'and so I'm going to give you something to sweeten it with. "'You see, this little piece of paper, it is what is called a check. "'When we are gone, give it to your father with this note, "'not before our mind. "'You will marry one day, my dear little Flossie, "'and it is to buy you a wedding present which you are to wear, "'and your daughter after you, if you have one, "'in remembrance of Hunter Quatermain. "'Poor little Flossie cried very much "'and gave me a lock of her bright hair in return, "'which I still have. "'The check I gave her was for a thousand pounds, "'which being now well off and having no calls upon me, "'except those of charity, I could well afford. "'And in the note I directed her father to invest it for her "'in government security, "'and when she married or came of age "'to buy her the best diamond necklace he could get "'for the money in accumulated interest. "'I chose diamonds because I think "'that now that King Solomon's minds are lost to the world, "'their price will never be much lower than it is at present, "'so that if in afterlife she should ever be "'in pecuniary difficulties, "'she will be able to turn them into money.' "'Well, at last we got off "'after much handshaking, hat-waving, "'and also farewell saluting from the natives. "'Weeping copiously, for he has a warm heart, "'at parting with his master and mistress. "'And I was not sorry for it at all, "'for I hate those goodbyes. "'Perhaps the most affecting thing of all "'was to witness Umslopogas's distress "'at parting with Flossie, "'for whom the grim old warrior "'had conceived a strong affection. "'He used to say that she was as sweet to see "'or on a dark night, "'and was never tired of loudly congratulating himself "'on having killed the Laganani "'who had threatened to murder her. "'And that was the last we saw of the Pleasant Mission House, "'a true oasis in the desert, "'and of European civilization. "'But I often think of the MacKenzie's "'and wonder how they got down country, "'and if they are now safe and well in England, "'and we'll ever see these words. "'Dear little Flossie, "'I wonder how she fares there "'where there are no black folk to do her imperious bidding, "'and no sky-piercing snow-clad Kenya "'for her to look at when she gets up in the morning. "'And so good-bye to Flossie. "'After leaving the Mission House "'we made our way comparatively unmolested "'pass the base of Mount Kenya, "'which the Messiah called Daniel Eger, "'or the Speckled Mountain, "'on account of the black patches of rock "'that appear upon its mighty spire "'where the sides are too precipitous "'to allow of the snow-lying on them. "'Then on past the lonely Lake Beringo, "'for one of our two remaining a scurry, "'having unfortunately trodden on a puff-adder, "'died of snake-bite, "'in spite of all our efforts to save him. "'Thence we proceeded a distance of about "'a hundred and fifty miles "'to another magnificent snow-clad mountain "'called Lukakasera, "'which is never to the best of my belief "'been visited before by a European, "'but which I cannot now stop to describe. "'There we rested a fortnight, "'and then started out into the trackless "'and uninhabited forest "'of a vast district called Elcumi. "'In this forest alone there are more elephants "'than I ever met with or heard of before. "'The mighty mammals literally swarmed there, "'entirely unmolested by man, "'and only kept down by the natural law "'that prevents any animals increasing "'beyond the capacity of the country "'they inhabit to support them. "'Needless to say, however, we did not shoot many of them. "'First, because we could not afford "'to waste ammunition, "'of which our stock was getting perilously low, "'a donkey loaded with it having been swept away "'in fording a flooded river. "'And secondly, because we could not carry away the ivory "'and did not wish to kill for the mere sake of slaughter. "'So we let the great beasts be, "'only shooting one or two in self-protection. "'In this district the elephants, "'being unacquainted with the hunter "'and his tender mercies, "'would allow one to walk up "'to within twenty yards of them in the open, "'while they stood with their great ears "'cocked for all the world "'like puzzled and gigantic puppy dogs "'and stared at that new "'and extraordinary phenomenon, man. "'Occasionally, when the inspection did not prove satisfactory, "'the staring ended in a trumpet and a charge. "'But this did not often happen. "'When it did, we had to use our rifles. "'Nor were elephants the only wild beasts "'in the great alchemy forest. "'All sorts of large game abounded, "'including lions, confound them. "'I have always hated the sight of a lion "'since one bit my leg and blamed me for life. "'As a consequence, another thing that abounded "'was the dreadful Setzi fly, "'whose bite is death to domestic animals. "'Donkeys have, together with man, "'hitherto been supposed to enjoy "'a peculiar immunity from its attacks. "'But all I have to say, "'whether it was on account of their poor condition, "'or because the Setzi in those parts "'is more poisonous than usual, "'I do not know, "'but ours succumb to its onslaught. "'Fortunately, however, "'that was not till two months or so, "'after the bites had been inflicted, "'when suddenly, after a two-days cold rain, "'they all died. "'And on removing the skins of several of them, "'I found the long yellow streaks upon the flesh, "'to characteristic of death from bites from the Setzi, "'marking the spot where the insect "'had inserted his probiscus. "'On emerging from the great Alcumie forest, "'we, still steering northwards, "'in accordance with the information Mr. Mackenzie "'had collected from the unfortunate wanderer "'who reached him only to die so tragically, "'struck the base in due course "'of the large lake called Laga by the natives, "'which is about fifty miles long by twenty broad, "'and of which it may be remembered he made mention. "'Thence we pushed on nearly a month's journey "'over great rolling uplands, "'something like those in the Transvaal, "'but diversified by patches of bush-country. "'All this time we were continually ascending "'at the rate of about one hundred feet every ten miles. "'Our country was on a slope which appeared to terminate "'at a mass of snow-tipped mountains "'for which we were steering, "'and where we learned the second lake "'of which the wanderer had spoken "'as the lake without a bottom was situated. "'At length we arrived there, "'and having ascertained that there was a large lake "'on top of the mountains, "'ascended three thousand feet more "'till we came to a precipitous cliff or edge "'and a great sheet of water some twenty miles square "'lying fifteen hundred feet below us, "'and evidently occupying an extinct volcanic crater "'or craters of vast extent. "'Perceiving villages on the border of this lake, "'we descended with great difficulty "'through forests of pine trees "'which now closed the precipitous sides of the crater "'and were well received by the people, "'a simple, unwarlike folk "'who had never seen or even heard of a white man before "'and treated us with great reverence and kindness, "'supplying us with as much food and milk "'as we could eat and drink. "'This wonderful and beautiful lake lay, "'according to our aneroid, "'at a height of no less than eleven thousand four hundred "'and fifty feet above sea level, "'and its climate was quite cold "'and not at all unlike that of England. "'Indeed, for the first three days of our stay there "'we saw little or nothing of the scenery "'on account of an unmistakable scotch mist "'which prevailed. "'It was this rain that set the Seetsey poison "'working in our remaining donkeys, "'so that they all died. "'This disaster left us in a very awkward position. "'As we had now no means of transport whatever, "'though on the other hand we had not much to carry. "'Ammunition, too, was very short, "'amounting to but one hundred and fifty rounds "'of rifle cartridges "'and some fifty shotgun cartridges. "'How to get on? We did not know. "'Indeed, it seemed to us "'that we had about reached the end of our tether. "'Even if we had been inclined to abandon the object of our search, "'which, shout-out as it was, was by no means the case, "'it was ridiculous to think of forcing our way back "'some several hundred miles to the coast in our present plight. "'So we came to the conclusion that the only thing to be done "'was to stop where we were, "'the natives being so well-disposed "'and food plentiful, "'for the present, "'and abide events, "'and try to collect information as to the countries beyond. "'Accordingly, having purchased a capital-log canoe, "'large enough to hold us all in our baggage "'from the headmen of the village we were staying in, "'presenting him with three empty cold-drawn brass cartridges "'by way of payment, "'with which he was perfectly delighted, "'we set out to make a tour of the lake in order to find "'the most favorable place to make a camp. "'As we did not know if we should return to this village, "'we put all our gear into the canoe, "'and also a quarter of cooked water-buck, "'which when young is delicious-eating, "'and off we sat, natives having already gone before us "'in light canoes, "'to warn the inhabitants of the other villages of our approach. "'As we were puddling leisurely along, "'good remarked upon the extraordinary deep-blue color of the water, "'and said that he understood from the natives, "'who were great fishermen, fish, indeed, "'being their principal food, "'that the lake was supposed to be wonderfully deep "'and to have a hole at the bottom "'through which the water escaped "'and put out some great fire that was raging below. "'I pointed out to him that what he had heard "'was probably a legend arising from a tradition among the people, "'which dated back to the time "'when one of the extinct parasitic volcanic cones "'was inactivity. "'We saw several round the borders of the lake, "'which had no doubt been working at a period long subsequent "'to the volcanic death of the central crater, "'which now formed the bed of the lake itself. "'When it finally became extinct, "'people would imagine that the water from the lake "'had run down and put out the big fire below. "'More especially as, though it was constantly fed "'by streams running from the snow-tipped peaks about, "'there was no visible exit to it. "'The farther shore of the lake we found, "'on approaching it, to consist of a vast "'perpendicular wall of rock, "'which held the water without any intermediate sloping bank, "'is elsewhere. "'Accordingly, we paddled parallel with this precipice "'at a distance of about a hundred paces from it, "'shaping our course for the end of the lake "'where we knew there was a large village. "'As we went, we began to pass a considerable accumulation "'of floating rushes, weeds, boughs of trees, "'and other rubbish, brought, good supposed, "'to this spot by some current, "'which he was much puzzled to account for. "'While we were speculating about this, "'Sir Henry pointed out a flock of large white swans "'which were feeding on the drift some little way ahead of us. "'Now I had already noticed swans flying about this lake, "'and having never come across them before in Africa "'was exceedingly anxious to obtain a specimen. "'I had questioned the natives about them, "'and learned that they came from over the mountain, "'always arriving at certain periods of the year "'in the early morning, "'when it was very easy to catch them "'on account of their exhausted condition. "'I also asked them what country they came from "'when they shrugged their shoulders "'and said that on top of the great black precipice "'was stony, inhospitable land, "'and beyond that were mountains with snow "'and full of wild beasts where no people lived, "'and beyond the mountains were hundreds of miles "'of dense thorn forest so thick "'that even the elephants could not get through it, "'much less men. "'Next I asked them if they had ever heard of white people "'like ourselves, living on the farther side of the mountains "'and the thorn forest, whereat they laughed. "'But afterwards a very old woman came "'and told me that when she was a little girl "'her grandfather had told her "'that in his youth his grandfather "'had crossed the desert and the mountains "'and pierced the thorn forest "'and seen a white people who lived in stone corrals beyond. "'Of course, as this took the tale back some two hundred and fifty years "'the information was very indefinite, "'but still there it was again. "'And on thinking it over I grew firmly convinced "'that there was some truth in all these rumors "'and equally firmly determined to solve the mystery. "'Little did I guess in what an almost miraculous way "'my desire was to be gratified. "'Well, we set to work to stalk the swans, "'which kept drawing, as they fed, "'nearer and nearer to the precipice. "'And at last we pushed the canoe under shelter "'of a patch of drift within forty yards of them. "'Sir Henry had the shotgun loaded with number one "'and waiting for a chance got two in a line "'and firing at their necks killed them both. "'Up rose the rest, thirty or more of them, "'with a mighty splashing. "'And as they did so he gave them the other barrel. "'Down came one fellow with a broken wing "'and I saw the leg of another drop "'and a few feathers start out of his back, "'but he went on quite strong. "'Up went the swans, circling ever higher "'till at last they were mere specks, "'level with the top of the frowning precipice, "'when I saw them form into a triangle "'and head off for the unknown northeast. "'Meanwhile we had picked up our two dead ones "'and beautiful birds they were, "'weighing not less than about thirty pounds each, "'and were chasing the winged one, "'and had scrambled over a mass of driftweed "'into a pool of clear water beyond. "'Finding a difficulty in forcing the canoe through the rubble, "'I told our only remaining Waquafee servant, "'whom I knew to be an excellent swimmer, "'to jump over, dive under the drift, and catch him. "'Knowing that as there were no crocodiles in this lake "'he could come to no harm. "'Entering into the fun of the thing, "'he obeyed, and was soon dodging about after the winged swan "'in fine style, getting gradually nearer to the rock wall "'against which the water washed as he did so. "'Presently he gave up swimming after the swan, "'and began to cry out that he was being carried away. "'And indeed we saw that, though he was swimming "'with all his strength towards us, "'he was being drawn slowly to the precipice. "'With the few desperate strokes of our paddles "'we pushed the canoe through the crust of drift "'and rode towards the man as hard as we could, "'but fast as we went he was drawn faster to the rock. "'Suddenly I saw that before us, "'just rising eighteen inches or so above the surface of the lake, "'was what looked like the top of the arch "'of a submerged cave or railway tunnel. "'Evidently, from the water mark on the rock "'feet above it, it was generally entirely submerged. "'But there had been a dry season, "'and the cold had prevented the snow "'from melting as freely as usual, "'so the lake was low and the arch showed. "'Towards this arch our poor servant "'was being sucked with frightful rapidity. "'He was not more than ten fathoms from it, "'and we were about twenty when I saw it, "'and with little help from us the canoe flew along after him. "'He struggled bravely, "'and I thought that we should have saved him, "'when suddenly I perceived an expression of despair "'come upon his face, "'and there before our eyes he was sucked down "'into the cruel swirling blue depths and vanished. "'At the same moment I felt our canoe seized "'as with a mighty hand, "'and with resistless force towards the rock. "'We realized our danger now, "'and road our rather paddled furiously "'in our attempt to get out of the vortex, "'in vain. "'In another second we were flying straight for the arch "'like an arrow, and I thought that we were lost. "'Luckily I retained sufficient presence of mind "'to shout out, "'instantly setting the example "'into the bottom of the canoe. "'Down on your faces, down! "'And the others had the sense to take the hint. "'In another instant there was a grinding noise, "'and the boat was pushed down "'till the water began to trickle over the sides, "'and I thought that we were gone. "'But no, suddenly the grinding ceased, "'and we could again feel the canoe flying along. "'I turned my head a little, I dare not lift it, "'and looked up. "'By the feeble light that yet reached the canoe "'I could make out that a dense arch of rock "'hung just over our heads, and that was all. "'In another minute I could not even see as much as that, "'for the faint light had merged into shadow, "'and the shadows had been swallowed up in darkness, "'utter and complete. "'For an hour or so we lay there, "'daring to lift our heads, "'for fear lest the brains should be dashed out of them, "'and scarcely able to speak even, "'on account of the noise of the rushing water "'which drowned at our voices. "'Not indeed that we had much inclination to speak, "'seeing that we were overwhelmed "'by the awfulness of our position "'in the imminent fear of instant death, "'either by being dashed against the sides of the cavern, "'or on a rock, or being sucked down in the raging waters, "'or perhaps asphyxiated by want of air. "'All of these and many other modes of death "'presented themselves to my imagination "'as I lay at the bottom of the canoe, "'listening to the swirl of the hurrying waters "'which ran whither we knew not. "'One only other sound could I hear, "'and that was Alphonse's intermittent howl of terror "'coming from the center of the canoe. "'And even that seemed faint and unnatural. "'Indeed, the whole thing overpowered my brain, "'and I began to believe that I was the victim "'of some ghastly, spirit-shaking nightmare. "'And,