For long I stood there thinking. I looked at the ground, all red and
splashed with blood. I looked at the distorted body of the dead slave
and the great gaping wound which had let out the life--the sure and
certain mark of the dreaded Red Death--always dealt as it was, in the
same part of the body--and for all my thought I could think out no
method of finding and slaying this evil thing. Then I thought of the
_muti_--the amulet which Lalusini had hung around my neck. Should I
look within it? Her words came back to me. "Seek not to look within
until such time as thy wit _and the wit of others_ fail thee." Yet, had
not that time come? I could think of no plan. The monster was not of
this world. No weapon ever forged could slay it; still there must be a
way. Ha! "_the wit of others_!" Old Masuka had departed to the land of
spirits himself. He might have helped me. Who could those "others" be,
of whom my sorceress-wife had spoken while her spirit was away among the
spirits of those unseen?
"Remain here," I said suddenly, to Jambula and the other slave. "Remain
here, and watch, and stir not from this spot until I return."
They made no murmur against this--yet I could see they liked not the
order. But I gave no thought to them as I moved forward with my eyes
fixed upon the tracks of the retreating monster.
The bloody imprint of the huge hoofs was plain enough, and to follow
these was a work of no difficulty. Soon, however, as the hoofs had
become dry, it was not so easy. Remembering the crashing noise I had
heard as the thing rushed on its course, I examined the bushes and
trees. No leaves or twigs were broken off such as could not but have
happened with such a heavy body plunging through them. Then the
hoof-marks themselves suddenly ceased, and with that, _Nkose_, the blood
once more seemed to tingle within me, for if the thing had come no
further was it not lying close at hand--those fiery eyes perhaps at that
very moment watching me--those awful horns even now advancing silent and
stealthy to rip and tear through my being? Ha! It seemed to me that
this hunting of a terrible ghost was a thing to turn the bravest man
into a coward.
Then as I stood, my hearing strained to its uttermost, my hand gripping
my broad spear ready at any rate to fight valiantly for life, and all
that life involved, something happened which well-nigh completed the
transformation into a coward of a man who had never known fear.
For now a voice fell upon my ears--a voice low and quavering, yet
clear--a voice with a strange and distant sound as though spoken afar
off.
"Ho! fearless one who art now afraid! Ho! valiant leader of armies!
Ho! mighty induna of the Great King! Thou art as frightened as a little
child. Ha, ha, ha!"
This last was very nearly true, _Nkose_--but hearing it said, and the
hideous mocking laugh that followed, very nearly turned it into a lie.
"I know not who speaks," I growled, "save that by the voice it is a very
old man. Were it not so he should learn what it means to name me a
coward."
"Ha, ha, ha!" screamed the voice again. "Brave words, O holder of the
King's assegai. Why, thy voice shakes almost as much as mine. Come
hither--if thou art not afraid."
From where the bush grew darkest and thickest the voice seemed to come.
I moved cautiously forward, prepared at every step to fall into some
trap--to meet with some manifestation of abominable witchcraft. For
long did I force my way through the thick growth, but cautiously ever,
and at last stood once more in the open. Then astonishment was my lot.
Right before me rose a great rock wall. I had reached the base of one
of the heights which shut in the hollow.
"Welcome, Untuswa," cackled the voice again. "Art thou still afraid?"
Now, _Nkose_, I could see nobody; but remembering the Song of the
Shield, and how Lalusini had caused it to sound forth from the cliff to
hearten us during the battle--she herself being some way off--I was not
so much amazed as I might have been, for the voice came right out of the
cliff.
"If thou art not afraid, Untuswa," it went on, "advance straight, and
touch the rock with thy right hand."
I liked not this order, but, _Nkose_, I had ever had to do with
magicians, and had dipped somewhat into their art, as I have already
shown. Here, I thought, was more sorcery to be looked into, and how
should I root out the sorcery of the Red Magic save by the aid of other
sorcery? So I advanced boldly, yet warily. And then, indeed, amazement
was my lot.
For, as my right hand touched it, the hard rock moved, shivered. Then a
portion of this smooth, unbroken wall seemed to fall inward, leaving a
black gaping hole like a doorway, through which a man might enter
upright.
"Ho, ho! Untuswa!" cackled the voice again, now from within the hole.
"Welcome, valiant fighter. Enter. Yet, wilt thou not leave thy weapons
outside?"
"Not until I stand once more in the presence of him who sent me do I
disarm, O Unknown One. And now, where art thou? for I like better to
talk to a man with a voice than to a voice without the man."
"And how knowest thou that I am a man, O Fearless One? Yet, enter,
weapons and all. Ha! Knowest thou not _this_ voice?"
_Whau_! It seemed to me then that my flesh crept indeed, for I did know
that voice. Ah, yes, well indeed; and it was the voice of one who had
long since sat down in the sleep of death--the voice of old Masuka, the
mightiest magician our nation had ever seen.
Then, indeed, did I enter, for, even though dead, the voice was that of
one who had done naught but well by me during life, and I feared not a
change the other way now. I entered, and, as I did so, I stood in
darkness once more. The rock wall had closed up behind me.
Now my misgivings returned, for, _Nkose_, no living man, be he never so
brave, can find himself suddenly entombed within the heart of the earth
alone, the voice of one who has long been dead talking with him in the
black, moist darkness, and not feel some alarm. Again the voice spoke,
and this time it was not that of Masuka, but the mocking cackle which
had at first startled me.
"Ho, ho! Untuswa, the valiant, the fearless. Dost thou not tremble--
thou who art even now within the portal of the Great Unknown? Did ever
peril of spear, or of the wrath of kings, make thy face cold as it now
is? Ha, ha!"
True indeed were the words, for the position was fearful; but then so
was that which had been the means of driving me into it. But I
answered:
"I have seen strange and mysterious and terrifying things before, my
father, else would I fear greatly now. Yet let us talk face to face."
For a moment there was no reply, then with startling suddenness a light
flashed forth. On the floor just in front of me burned a small fore--
throwing a ball of green misty light upon the tomb-like blackness.
Within this I could make out the figure of a man--a very old man.
A man, did I say? _Whau_! It was more like that of a monkey, or a
great crouching spider. The limbs were thin as the shaft of a spear--
too withered and dried even to show the wrinkles of age; the face, too,
was like a dry piece of skin spread over the skull; and on the head a
wisp or two of white hair. If it was a man, in truth he must have lived
nearly as long as the world itself. His hands, which were like the
claws of a bird, were spread over the fire, which burned not upon the
floor, but in a large clay bowl. Into this he seemed to be sprinkling
some kind of powder which caused the green flame to leap and hiss.
But now another sound stopped my ears; an awesome and terrible sound--a
sound full of fear and agony indescribable--for it was again the
death-yell, such as I had heard in the darkness of the night when the
slave, Suru, looked upon the Red Terror and parted with life. And now
it was not night, but broad, clear, golden day--outside the cavern at
least--and the other slave had parted with life by the same dread means;
and I--while this thing of horror was abroad--this monster I had come to
slay--here was I imprisoned within the heart of the earth--held there at
the will of a being who seemed less a man than the ghost of one who had
died while the world was yet young. I leaped to my feet.
"Ha, ha, ha! Sit again, induna of the King, who knows not fear,"
cackled the shrivelled old monkey before me. "Ha, ha, ha! But now I
think thou art afraid."
"Afraid or not, thou evil scorpion--thou creeping wizard--if I stand not
in the light of day before I strike the ground with my foot three times,
this spear shall see if there be any blood to run from thy dried-up old
heart." And, raising the blade aloft, I struck the ground once with my
foot.
"Ha, ha, ha!" cackled the wizard again, still scattering his magic
powder into the fire. "Look again, Untuswa; look again."
I did look again, I could not do otherwise, and then I stood as one
turned into stone--with the spear still uplifted--unable to move hand or
foot, as I glared in front of me. For the whole vault was filled with a
vivid green flash, and in it the wizard seemed to dissolve.
His shrivelled limbs seemed to turn into black, horrible snakes, which
glided away hissing into the darkness beyond; then the light sank
somewhat, and before me there started up faces dim and shadowy, and
their aspect turned my heart into water indeed, for I was gazing upon
the faces of those I knew had long been dead.
Dim and shadowy as they were, I knew them all, knew them at first sight.
There was Hlatusa, who had been sent to "feed the alligators" by reason
of this very magic I was here to destroy. There was Tyuyumane, who had
conspired with the Amabuna to overthrow our nation; and Notalwa, the
chief of our _izanusi_, who had aided him, both faces wreathed with hate
and torture as I had last beheld them, writhing on the stake of
impalement. There were many others who had died for the conspiracy of
Ncwelo's Pool. There was the face of my brother, Sekweni--he who had
been slain for sleeping at his post--and that of Gungana, the induna
whom I myself slew, and to whose command I had succeeded. All these
were glowering upon me with a very whirlwind of hate and vengeance, and
I--_whau_!--I was as a man who had died ten deaths. Then I saw the face
of Tauane, the chief of the People of the Blue Cattle, and--Ha! what was
that? The face of Lalusini, beautiful, but sad and agonised? Yet no.
But as a flash I had seen it, and lo! it became that of Nangeza, my
erstwhile _inkosikazi_, even as when she had failed in her attempt upon
the life of the song. And then indeed did I know what hate and
vengeance could look like. For long it seemed I stood there face to
face with that terrible countenance--with it alone--and my lungs now
seemed to fill with choking fiery air. I beheld a vast array defiling
before me--of warriors I had met in battle, of all races, but chiefly
those of our parent nation. On, ever, they passed, silent grim
spectres, with broad spear and tufted shield, even as in life. Others
followed densely in rank, company upon company. _Hau_! Once more the
battle! I heard the clash of shields, the shiver of assegai hafts, the
flash and flame as of fire weapons. I saw the red blood spout and flow;
I heard the roaring of an army of warriors in the full career of their
victorious charge; my ears were dulled by the screams of the vanquished,
for mercy, for pity; the wild hiss and whistle of the conquerors as they
stabbed and stabbed; and lo! blood swirled around my feet in rivers, and
still the screaming and wailing of those beneath the spear went on.
Then I could no longer breathe. The earth itself seemed to be heaping
on high to fall on me and crush me to dust. I sank down, as it seemed,
in death.