HOKOSA IS LIFTED UP
“What would you?” asked Hokosa of the herald as he halted a short
spear-cast from the wall.
“My master, the Prince Hafela, desires to treat with your master,
Nodwengo. Many men have fallen on either side, and if this war goes on,
though victory must be his at last, many more will fall. Therefore, if
any plan can be found, he desires to spare their lives.”
Now Hokosa spoke with the king, and answered:--
“Then let Hafela come beneath the wall and we will talk with him.”
“Not so,” answered the herald. “Does a buck walk into an open pit? Were
the prince to come here it might chance that your spears would talk with
him. Let Nodwengo follow me to the camp yonder, where we promise him
safe conduct.”
“Not so,” answered Hokosa. “‘Does a buck walk into an open pit?’ Set out
your message, and we will consider it.”
“Nay, I am but a common man without authority; but I am charged to make
you another offer, and if you will not hear it then there is an end.
Let Hokosa advance alone to that flat rock you see yonder, and there he
shall be met, also alone, by one having power to talk with him, namely,
by the Lady Noma, who was once his wife. Thus they can confer together
midway between the camps and in full sight of both of them, nor, no man
being near, can he find cause to be afraid of an unarmed girl. What say
you?”
Hokosa turned and talked with the king.
“I think it well that you should not go,” said Nodwengo. “The offer
seems fair, and the stone is out of reach of their spears; still,
behind it may lurk a scheme to kill or capture you, for Hafela is very
cunning.”
“It may be so, King,” answered Hokosa; “still, my heart tells me it is
wisest that I should do this thing, for our case is desperate, and if I
do it not, that may be the cause of the death of all of us to-morrow.
At the worst, I am but one man, and it matters little what may chance to
me; nor shall I come to any harm unless it is the will of Heaven that it
should be so; and be sure of this, that out of the harm will arise good,
for where I go there the spirit of the Messenger goes with me. Remember
that he bade you listen to my counsel while I remain with you, seeing
that I do not speak of my own wisdom. Therefore let me go, and if it
should chance that I am taken, trouble not about the matter, for thus it
will be fated to some great end. Above all, though often enough I have
been a traitor in the past, do not dream that I betray you, keeping in
mind that so to do would be to betray my own soul, which very soon must
render its account on high.”
“As you will, Hokosa,” answered the king. “And now tell those rebel dogs
that on these terms only will I make peace with them--that they withdraw
across the mountains by the path which their women and children have
taken, leaving this land for ever without lifting another spear against
us. If they will do this, notwithstanding all the wickedness and
slaughter that they have worked, I will send command to my _impi_ to let
them go unharmed. If they will not do this, I put my trust in the God I
worship and will fight this fray out to the end, knowing that if I and
my people perish, they shall perish also.”
Now Nodwengo himself spoke to the herald who was waiting beyond the
wall.
“Go back to him you serve,” he said, “and say that Hokosa will meet her
who was his wife upon the flat stone and talk with her in the sight of
both armies, bearing my word with him. At the sound of the blowing of a
horn shall each of them advance unarmed and alone from either camp. Say
to my brother also that it will indeed be ill for him if he attempts
treachery upon Hokosa, for the man who causes his blood to flow will
surely die, and after death shall be accursed for ever.”
The herald went, and presently a horn was blown.
“Now it comes into my mind that we part for the last time,” said
Nodwengo in a troubled voice as he took the hand of Hokosa.
“It may be so, King; in my heart I think that it is so; yet I do not
altogether grieve thereat, for the burden of my past sins crushes me,
and I am weary and seek for rest. Yet we do not part for the last time,
because whatever chances, in the end I shall make my report to you
yonder”--and he pointed upwards. “Reign on for long years, King--reign
well and wisely, clinging to the Faith, for thus at the last shall you
reap your reward. Farewell!”
Now again the horn blew, and in the bright moonlight the slight figure
of Noma could be seen advancing towards the stone.
Then Hokosa sprang from the wall and advanced also, till at the same
moment they climbed upon the stone.
“Greeting, Hokosa,” said Noma, and she stretched out her hand to him.
By way of answer he placed his own behind his back, saying: “To your
business, woman.” Yet his eyes searched her face--the face which in his
folly he still loved; and thus it came about that he never saw sundry of
the dead bodies, which lay in the shadow of the stone, begin to quicken
into life, and inch by inch to arise, first to their knees and next to
their feet. He never saw or heard them, yet, as the words left his lips,
they sprang upon him from every side, holding him so that he could not
move.
“Away with him!” cried Noma with a laugh of triumph; and at her command
he was half-dragged and half-carried across the open space and thrust
violently over a stone wall into the camp of Hafela.
Now Nodwengo and his soldiers saw what had happened, and with a shout of
“Treachery!” some hundreds of them leapt into the plain and began to run
towards the koppie to rescue their envoy.
Hokosa heard the shout, and wrenching himself round, beheld them.
“Back!” he cried in a clear, shrill voice. “Back! children of Nodwengo,
and leave me to my fate, for the foe waits for you by thousands behind
the wall!”
A soldier struck him across the mouth, bidding him be silent; but his
warning had come to the ears of Nodwengo, causing him and his warriors
to halt and begin a retreat. It was well that they did so, for seeing
that they would not come on, from under the shelter of the wall and
of every rock and stone soldiers jumped up by companies and charged,
driving them back to their own schanse. But the king’s men had the start
of them, and had taken shelter behind it, whence they greeted them with
a volley of spears, killing ten and wounding twice as many more.
Now it was Hokosa’s turn to laugh, and laugh he did, saying:--
“My taking is well paid for already, Prince. A score of your best
warriors is a heavy price to give for the carcase of one weary and aging
man. But since I am here among you, captured with so much pain and loss,
tell me of your courtesy why I have been brought.”
Then the prince shook his spear at him and cursed him.
“Would you learn, wizard and traitor?” he cried. “We have caught you
because we know well that while you stay yonder your magic counsel will
prevail against our might; whereas, when once we hold you fast, Nodwengo
will wander to his ruin like a blind and moonstruck man, for you were to
him both eyes and brain.”
“I understand,” said Hokosa calmly. “But, Prince, how if I left my
wisdom behind me?”
“That may not be,” answered Hafela, “since even a wizard cannot throw
his thoughts into the heart of another from afar.”
“Ah! you think so, Prince. Well, ask Noma yonder if I cannot throw my
thoughts into her heart from afar: though of late I have not chosen
to do so, having put aside such spells. But let it pass, and tell me,
having taken me, what is it you propose to do with me? First, however,
I will give you for nothing some of that wisdom which you grudge to
Nodwengo the king. Be advised by me, Prince, and take the terms that he
offers to you--namely, to turn this very night and begone from the land
without harm or hindrance. Will you receive my gift, Hafela?”
“What will happen if I refuse it?” asked the prince slowly.
Now Hokosa looked at the dust at his feet, then he gazed upwards
searching the heavens, and answered:--
“Did not I tell you yesterday? I think that this will happen. I
think--but who can be quite sure of the future, Hafela?--that you and
the most of your army by this hour to-morrow night will be lying fast
asleep about this place, with jackals for your bedfellows.”
The prince heard and trembled at his words, for he believed that if he
willed it, Hokosa could prophesy the truth.
“Accursed dog!” he said. “I am minded to be guided by your saying; but
be sure of this, that if I follow it, you shall stay here to sleep with
jackals, yes, this very night.”
Then Noma broke in.
“Be not mad, Hafela!” she said. “Will you listen to the lies that this
renegade tells to work upon your fears? Will you abandon victory when it
lies within your grasp, and in place of a great king become a fugitive
whom all men mock at, an outcast to be hunted down at leisure by that
brother against whom you dared to rebel, but on whom you did not dare
to shut your hand when he lay in its hollow? Silence the tongue of this
captive rogue for ever and become a man again, with the heart of a man.”
“Now,” said Hokosa gently; “many would find it hard to believe that I
reared this woman from childhood, nursing her with my own hands when
she was sick and giving her of the best I had; that afterwards, when
you stole her from me, Prince, I sinned deeply to win her back. That
I married her and sinned yet more deeply to give her the greatness she
desired; and at last, of my own will, I loosed the bonds by which I held
her, although I could not thrust her memory from my heart. Yet I have
earned it all, for I made her the tool of my witchcraft, and therefore
it is just that she should turn and rend me. Well, if you like it, take
her counsel, Prince, and let mine go, for I care nothing which you take;
only, forgive me if I prophesy once more and for the last time--I am
sure that Nodwengo yonder spoke truth when he bade your herald tell
me that he who causes my blood to flow shall surely die and for it be
called to a strict account. Prince, I am a Christian now, and believe
me, whatever you may do, I seek no revenge upon you; having been myself
forgiven so much, in my turn I have learned to forgive. Yet it may be
ill for that man who causes my blood to flow.”
“Let him be strangled,” said a captain who stood near by, “and then
there will be no blood in the matter.”
“Friend,” answered Hokosa, “you should have been not a soldier but a
pleader of causes. True it is then that the prince will only cause my
life to fly, but whether that is a smaller sin I leave you to judge.”
“Keep him prisoner,” said another, “till we learn how these matters
end.”
“Nay,” answered Hafela, “for then he will surely outwit us and escape.
Noma, what shall we do with this man who was your husband? Tell us, for
you should know best how to deal with him.”
“Let me think,” she answered, and she looked first at the ground beneath
her, next around her, then upwards toward the skies.
Now they stood at the foot of the koppie, on the flat top of which grew
the great Tree of Doom, that for generations had served the People of
Fire as a place of execution of their criminals, or of those who fell
under the ban of the king or of the witch-doctors. Among and above the
finger-like fronds of this strange and dreadful-looking tree towered
that white dead limb shaped like a cross, which Owen had pointed out
to his disciple John, taking it to be a sign and a promise. This cross
stood out clear against the sinking moon. It caught Noma’s eye, and a
devilish thought entered into her heart.
“You would keep this fellow alive?” she said, “and yet you would
not suffer him to escape. See, there above you is a cross such as he
worships. Bind him to it as he says the Man whom he worships was bound,
and let that dead Man help him if he may.”
The prince and those about Noma shrank back a little in horror. They
were cruel men rendered more cruel by their superstitious fear of one
whom they believed to be uncanny; one to whom they attributed inhuman
powers which he was exercising to their destruction, but still this
doom seemed dreadful to them. Noma read their minds and went on
passionately:--
“You deem me unmerciful, but you do not know what I have suffered at
this wizard’s hands. For his sake and because of him I am haunted. For
his own purposes he opened the gates of Distance, he sent me down among
the dwellers in Death, causing me to interpret their words for him. I
did so, but the dwellers came back out of Death with me, and from that
hour they have not left me, nor will they ever leave me; for night by
night they sojourn at my side, tormenting me with terrors. He has
told me that through my mouth that spirit whom he drew into my body
prophesied that he should be ‘lifted up above the people.’ Let the
prophecy be fulfilled, let him be lifted up, for then perchance the
ghosts will depart from me and I shall win peace and sleep. Also, thus
alone can you hold him safe and yet shed no blood.”
“Be it so,” said the prince. “When we plotted together of the death of
the king, and as your price, Hokosa, you bargained for the girl whom I
had chosen to wife, did I not warn you that this witch of many spells,
who holds both our hearts in her little hands, should yet hound you to
death and mock you while you perished by an end of shame? What did I
tell you, Hokosa?”
Now when he heard his fate, Hokosa bowed his head and trembled a little.
Then he lifted it, and exclaimed in a clear voice:--
“It is true, Prince, but I will add to your words. She shall bring
_both_ of us to death. For me, I am honoured indeed in that there has
been allotted to me that same end which my Master chose. To that cross
let my sins be fastened and with them my body.”
Now the moon sank, but in the darkness men were found who dared to climb
the tree, taking with them strips of raw hide. They reached the top of
it, four of them, and seating themselves upon the arms of the cross,
they let down a rope, the noose of which was placed about the body of
Hokosa. As it tightened upon him, he turned his calm and dreadful eyes
on to the eyes of Noma and said to her:--
“Woman, I do not reproach you; but I lay this fate upon you, that you
shall watch me die. Thereafter, let God deal with you as He may choose.”
Now, when she heard these words Noma shrieked aloud, for of a sudden she
felt that the power of the will of Hokosa, from which she had been freed
by him, had once more fallen upon her, and that come what might she was
doomed to obey his last commands.
Little by little the soldiers drew him up and in the darkness they bound
him fast there upon the lofty cross. Then they descended and left him,
and would have led Noma with them from the tree. But this they could
not do, for always she broke from them screaming, and fled back to its
shadow.
Then, seeing that she was bewitched, Hafela commanded that they should
bind a cloth about her mouth and leave her there till her senses
returned to her in the sunlight--for none of them dared to stop with
her in the shadow of that tree, since the odours of it were poisonous to
man. Also they believed the place to be haunted by evil spirits.