CHAPTER V.

THE MESSAGE OF MAIWA

On the following evening we once more dined together, and Quatermain,

after some pressure, was persuaded to continue his story—for Good’s

remark still rankled in his breast.

“At last,” he went on, “a few minutes before sunset, the task was

finished. We had laboured at it all day, stopping only once for dinner,

for it is no easy matter to hew out five such tusks as those which now

lay before me in a white and gleaming line. It was a dinner worth

eating, too, I can tell you, for we dined off the heart of the great

one-tusked bull, which was so big that the man whom I sent inside the

elephant to look for his heart was forced to remove it in two pieces.

We cut it into slices and fried it with fat, and I never tasted heart

to equal it, for the meat seemed to melt in one’s mouth. By the way, I

examined the jaw of the elephant; it never grew but one tusk; the other

had not been broken off, nor was it present in a rudimentary form.

“Well, there lay the five beauties, or rather four of them, for Gobo

and another man were engaged in sawing the grand one in two. At last

with many sighs I ordered them to do this, but not until by practical

experiment I had proved that it was impossible to carry it in any other

way. One hundred and sixty pounds of solid ivory, or rather more in its

green state, is too great a weight for two men to bear for long across

a broken country. I sat watching the job and smoking the pipe of

contentment, when suddenly the bush opened, and a very handsome and

dignified native girl, apparently about twenty years of age, stood

before me, carrying a basket of green mealies upon her head.

“Although I was rather surprised to see a native girl in such a wild

spot, and, so far as I knew, a long way from any kraal, the matter did

not attract my particular notice; I merely called to one of the men,

and told him to bargain with the woman for the mealies, and ask her if

there were any more to be bought in the neighbourhood. Then I turned my

head and continued to superintend the cutting of the tusk. Presently a

shadow fell upon me. I looked up, and saw that the girl was standing

before me, the basket of mealies still on her head.

“‘Marême, Marême,’ she said, gently clapping her hands together. The

word Marême among these Matuku (though she was no Matuku) answers to

the Zulu ‘Koos,’ and the clapping of hands is a form of salutation very

common among the tribes of the Basutu race.

“‘What is it, girl?’ I asked her in Sisutu. ‘Are those mealies for

sale?’

“‘No, great white hunter,’ she answered in Zulu, ‘I bring them as a

gift.’

“‘Good,’ I replied; ‘set them down.’

“‘A gift for a gift, white man.’

“‘Ah,’ I grumbled, ‘the old story—nothing for nothing in this wicked

world. What do you want—beads?’

“She nodded, and I was about to tell one of the men to go and fetch

some from one of the packs, when she checked me.

“‘A gift from the giver’s own hand is twice a gift,’ she said, and I

thought that she spoke meaningly.

“‘You mean that you want me to give them to you myself?’

“‘Surely.’

“I rose to go with her. ‘How is it that, being of the Matuku, you speak

in the Zulu tongue?’ I asked suspiciously.

“‘I am not of the Matuku,’ she answered as soon as we were out of

hearing of the men. ‘I am of the people of Nala, whose tribe is the

Butiana tribe, and who lives there,’ and she pointed over the mountain.

‘Also I am one of the wives of Wambe,’ and her eyes flashed as she said

the name.

“‘And how did you come here?’

“‘On my feet,’ she answered laconically.

“We reached the packs, and undoing one of them, I extracted a handful

of beads. ‘Now,’ I said, ‘a gift for a gift. Hand over the mealies.’

“She took the beads without even looking at them, which struck me as

curious, and setting the basket of mealies on the ground, emptied it.

“At the bottom of the basket were some curiously-shaped green leaves,

rather like the leaves of the gutta-percha tree in shape, only somewhat

thicker and of a more fleshy substance. As though by hazard, the girl

picked one of these leaves out of the basket and smelt it. Then she

handed it to me. I took the leaf, and supposing that she wished me to

smell it also, was about to oblige her by doing so, when my eye fell

upon some curious red scratches on the green surface of the leaf.

“‘Ah,’ said the girl (whose name, by the way, was Maiwa), speaking

beneath her breath, ‘read the signs, white man.’

“Without answering her I continued to stare at the leaf. It had been

scratched or rather written upon with a sharp tool, such as a nail, and

wherever this instrument had touched it, the acid juice oozing through

the outer skin had turned a rusty blood colour. Presently I found the

beginning of the scrawl, and read this in English, and covering the

surface of the leaf and of two others that were in the basket.

“‘I hear that a white man is hunting in the Matuku country. This is to

warn him to fly over the mountain to Nala. Wambe sends an impi at

daybreak to eat him up, because he has hunted before bringing hongo.

For God’s sake, whoever you are, try to help me. I have been the slave

of this devil Wambe for nearly seven years, and am beaten and tortured

continually. He murdered all the rest of us, but kept me because I

could work iron. Maiwa, his wife, takes this; she is flying to Nala her

father because Wambe killed her child. Try to get Nala to attack Wambe;

Maiwa can guide them over the mountain. You won’t come for nothing, for

the stockade of Wambe’s private kraal is made of elephants’ tusks. For

God’s sake, don’t desert me, or I shall kill myself. I can bear this no

longer.

“‘John Every.’

“‘Great heavens!’ I gasped. ‘Every!—why, it must be my old friend.’ The

girl, or rather the woman Maiwa, pointed to the other side of the leaf,

where there was more writing. It ran thus—‘I have just heard that the

white man is called Macumazahn. If so, it must be my friend Quatermain.

Pray Heaven it is, for I know he won’t desert an old chum in such a fix

as I am. It isn’t that I’m afraid of dying, I don’t care if I die, but

I want to get a chance at Wambe first.’

“‘No, old boy,’ thought I to myself, ‘it isn’t likely that I am going

to leave you there while there is a chance of getting you out. I have

played fox before now—there’s still a double or two left in me. I must

make a plan, that’s all. And then there’s that stockade of tusks. I am

not going to leave that either.’ Then I spoke to the woman.

“‘You are called Maiwa?’

“‘It is so.’

“‘You are the daughter of Nala and the wife of Wambe?’

“‘It is so.’

“‘You fly from Wambe to Nala?’

“‘I do.’

“‘Why do you fly? Stay, I would give an order,’—and calling to Gobo, I

ordered him to get the men ready for instant departure. The woman, who,

as I have said, was quite young and very handsome, put her hand into a

little pouch made of antelope hide which she wore fastened round the

waist, and to my horror drew from it the withered hand of a child,

which evidently had been carefully dried in the smoke.

“‘I fly for this cause,’ she answered, holding the poor little hand

towards me. ‘See now, I bore a child. Wambe was its father, and for

eighteen months the child lived and I loved it. But Wambe loves not his

children; he kills them all. He fears lest they should grow up to slay

one so wicked, and he would have killed this child also, but I begged

its life. One day, some soldiers passing the hut saw the child and

saluted him, calling him the “chief who soon shall be.” Wambe heard,

and was mad. He smote the babe, and it wept. Then he said that it

should weep for good cause. Among the things that he had stolen from

the white men whom he slew is a trap that will hold lions. So strong is

the trap that four men must stand on it, two on either side, before it

can be opened.’”

Here old Quatermain broke off suddenly.

“Look here, you fellows,” he said, “I can’t bear to go on with this

part of the story, because I never could stand either seeing or talking

of the sufferings of children. You can guess what that devil did, and

what the poor mother was forced to witness. Would you believe it, she

told me the tale without a tremor, in the most matter-of-fact way. Only

I noticed that her eyelid quivered all the time.

“‘Well,’ I said, as unconcernedly as though I had been talking of the

death of a lamb, though inwardly I was sick with horror and boiling

with rage, ‘and what do you mean to do about the matter, Maiwa, wife of

Wambe?’

“‘I mean to do this, white man,’ she answered, drawing herself up to

her full height, and speaking in tones as hard as steel and cold as

ice—‘I mean to work, and work, and work, to bring this to pass, and to

bring that to pass, until at length it comes to pass that with these

living eyes I behold Wambe dying the death that he gave to his child

and my child.’

“‘Well said,’ I answered.

“‘Ay, well said, Macumazahn, well said, and not easily forgotten. Who

could forget, oh, who could forget? See where this dead hand rests

against my side; so once it rested when alive. And now, though it is

dead, now every night it creeps from its nest and strokes my hair and

clasps my fingers in its tiny palm. Every night it does this, fearing

lest I should forget. Oh, my child! my child! ten days ago I held thee

to my breast, and now this alone remains of thee,’ and she kissed the

dead hand and shivered, but never a tear did she weep.

“‘See now,’ she went on, ‘the white man, the prisoner at Wambe’s kraal,

he was kind to me. He loved the child that is dead, yes, he wept when

its father slew it, and at the risk of his life told Wambe, my

husband—ah, yes, my husband!—that which he is! He too it was who made a

plan. He said to me, “Go, Maiwa, after the custom of thy people, go

purify thyself in the bush alone, having touched a dead one. Say to

Wambe thou goest to purify thyself alone for fifteen days, according to

the custom of thy people. Then fly to thy father, Nala, and stir him up

to war against Wambe for the sake of the child that is dead.” This then

he said, and his words seemed good to me, and that same night ere I

left to purify myself came news that a white man hunted in the country,

and Wambe, being mad with drink, grew very wrath, and gave orders that

an impi should be gathered to slay the white man and his people and

seize his goods. Then did the “Smiter of Iron” (Every) write the

message on the green leaves, and bid me seek thee out, and show forth

the matter, that thou mightest save thyself by flight; and behold, this

thing have I done, Macumazahn, the hunter, the Slayer of Elephants.’

“‘Ah,’ I said, ‘I thank you. And how many men be there in the impi of

Wambe?’

“‘A hundred of men and half a hundred.’

“‘And where is the impi?’

“‘There to the north. It follows on thy spoor. I saw it pass yesterday,

but myself I guessed that thou wouldst be nigher to the mountain, and

came this way, and found thee. To-morrow at the daybreak the slayers

will be here.’

“‘Very possibly,’ I thought to myself; ‘but they won’t find Macumazahn.

I have half a mind to put some strychnine into the carcases of those

elephants for their especial benefit though.’ I knew that they would

stop to eat the elephants, as indeed they did, to our great gain, but I

abandoned the idea of poisoning them, because I was rather short of

strychnine.”

“Or because you did not like to play the trick, Quatermain?” I

suggested with a laugh.

“I said because I had not enough strychnine. It would take a great deal

of strychnine to poison three elephants effectually,” answered the old

gentleman testily.

I said nothing further, but I smiled, knowing that old Allan could

never have resorted to such an artifice, however severe his strait. But

that was his way; he always made himself out to be a most unmerciful

person.

“Well,” he went on, “at that moment Gobo came up and announced that we

were ready to march. ‘I am glad that you are ready,’ I said, ‘because

if you don’t march, and march quick, you will never march again, that

is all. Wambe has an impi out to kill us, and it will be here

presently.’

“Gobo turned positively green, and his knees knocked together. ‘Ah,

what did I say?’ he exclaimed. ‘Fate walks about loose in Wambe’s

country.’

“‘Very good; now all you have to do is to walk a little quicker than he

does. No, no, you don’t leave those elephant tusks behind—I am not

going to part with them I can tell you.’

“Gobo said no more, but hastily directed the men to take up their

loads, and then asked which way we were to run.

“‘Ah,’ I said to Maiwa, ‘which way?’

“‘There,’ she answered, pointing towards the great mountain spur which

towered up into the sky some forty miles away, separating the

territories of Nala and Wambe—‘there, below that small peak, is one

place where men may pass, and one only. Also it can easily be blocked

from above. If men pass not there, then they must go round the great

peak of the mountain, two days’ journey and half a day.’

“‘And how far is the peak from us?’

“‘All to-night shall you walk and all to-morrow, and if you walk fast,

at sunset you shall stand on the peak.’

“I whistled, for that meant a five-and-forty miles trudge without

sleep. Then I called to the men to take each of them as much cooked

elephant’s meat as he could carry conveniently. I did the same myself,

and forced the woman Maiwa to eat some as we went. This I did with

difficulty, for at that time she seemed neither to sleep nor eat nor

rest, so fiercely was she set on vengeance.

“Then we started, Maiwa guiding us. After going for a half-hour over

gradually rising ground, we found ourselves on the further edge of a

great bush-clad depression something like the bottom of a lake. This

depression, through which we had been travelling, was covered with bush

to a very great extent, indeed almost altogether so, except where it

was pitted with glades such as that wherein I had shot the elephants.

“At the top of this slope Maiwa halted, and putting her hand over her

eyes looked back. Presently she touched me on the arm and pointed

across the sea of forest towards a comparatively vacant space of

country some six or seven miles away. I looked, and suddenly I saw

something flash in the red rays of the setting sun. A pause, and then

another quick flash.

“‘What is it?’ I asked.

“‘It is the spears of Wambe’s impi, and they travel fast,’ she answered

coolly.

“I suppose that my face showed how little I liked the news, for she

went on—

“‘Fear not; they will stay to feast upon the elephants, and while they

feast we shall journey. We may yet escape.’

“After that we turned and pushed on again, till at length it grew so

dark that we had to wait for the rising of the moon, which lost us

time, though it gave us rest. Fortunately none of the men had seen that

ominous flashing of the spears; if they had, I doubt if even I could

have kept control of them. As it was, they travelled faster than I had

ever known loaded natives to go before, so thorough-paced was their

desire to see the last of Wambe’s country. I, however, took the

precaution to march last of all, fearing lest they should throw away

their loads to lighten themselves, or, worse still, the tusks; for

these kind of fellows would be capable of throwing anything away if

their own skins were at stake. If the pious Æneas, whose story you were

reading to me the other night, had been a mongrel Delagoa Bay native,

Anchises would have had a poor chance of getting out of Troy, that is,

if he was known to have made a satisfactory will.

“At moonrise we set out again, and with short occasional halts

travelled till dawn, when we were forced to rest and eat. Starting once

more, about half-past five, we crossed the river at noon. Then began

the long toilsome ascent through thick bush, the same in which I shot

the bull buffalo, only some twenty miles to the west of that spot, and

not more than twenty-five miles on the hither side of Wambe’s kraal.

There were six or seven miles of this dense bush, and hard work it was

to get through it. Next came a belt of scattered forest which was

easier to pass, though, in revenge, the ground was steeper. This was

about two miles wide, and we passed it by about four in the afternoon.

Above this scattered bush lay a long steep slope of boulder-strewn

ground, which ran up to the foot of the little peak some three miles

away. As we emerged, footsore and weary, on to this inhospitable plain,

some of the men looking round caught sight of the spears of Wambe’s

impi advancing rapidly not more than a mile behind us.

“At first there was a panic, and the bearers tried to throw off their

loads and run, but I harangued them, calling out to them that certainly

I would shoot the first man who did so and that if they would but trust

in me I would bring them through the mess. Now, ever since I had killed

those three elephants single-handed, I had gained great influence over

these men, and they listened to me. So off we went as hard as ever we

could go—the members of the Alpine Club would not have been in it with

us. We made the boulders burn, as a Frenchman would say.

“When we had done about a mile the spears began to emerge from the belt

of scattered bush, and the whoop of their bearers as they viewed us

broke upon our ears. Quick as our pace had been before, it grew much

quicker now, for terror lent wings to my gallant crew. But they were

sorely tired, and the loads were heavy, so that run, or rather climb,

as we would, Wambe’s soldiers, a scrubby-looking lot of men armed with

big spears and small shields, but without plumes, climbed considerably

faster. The last mile of that pleasing chase was like a fox hunt, we

being the fox, and always in view. What astonished me was the

extraordinary endurance and activity shown by Maiwa. She never even

flagged. I think that girl’s muscles must have been made of iron, or

perhaps it was the strength of her will that supported her. At any rate

she reached the foot of the peak second, poor Gobo, who was an

excellent hand at running away, being first.

“Presently I came up panting, and glanced at the ascent. Before us was

a wall of rock about one hundred and fifty feet in height, upon which

the strata were laid so as to form a series of projections sufficiently

resembling steps to make the ascent easy, comparatively speaking,

except at one spot, where it was necessary to climb over a projecting

angle of cliff and bear a little to the left. It was not a really

difficult place, but what made it awkward was, that immediately beneath

this projection gaped a deep fissure or donga, on the brink of which we

now stood, originally dug out, no doubt, by the rush of water from the

peak and cliff. This gulf beneath would be trying to the nerves of a

weak-headed climber at the critical point, and so it proved in the

result. The projecting angle once passed, the remainder of the ascent

was very simple. At the summit, however, the brow of the cliff hung

over and was pierced by a single narrow path cut through it by water,

in such fashion that a single boulder rolled into it at the top would

make the cliff quite impassable to men without ropes.

“At this moment Wambe’s soldiers were about a thousand yards from us,

so it was evident that we had no time to lose. I at once ordered the

men to commence the ascent, the girl Maiwa, who was familiar with the

pass, going first to show them the way. Accordingly they began to mount

with alacrity, pushing and lifting their loads in front of them. When

the first of them, led by Maiwa, reached the projecting angle, they put

down their loads upon a ledge of rock and clambered over. Once there,

by lying on their stomachs upon a boulder, they could reach the loads

which were held to them by the men beneath, and in this way drag them

over the awkward place, whence they were carried easily to the top.

“But all of this took time, and meanwhile the soldiers were coming up

fast, screaming and brandishing their big spears. They were now within

about four hundred yards, and several loads, together with all the

tusks, had yet to be got over the rock. I was still standing at the

bottom of the cliff, shouting directions to the men above, but it

occurred to me that it would soon be time to move. Before doing so,

however, I thought that it might be well to try and produce a moral

effect upon the advancing enemy. In my hand I held a Winchester

repeating carbine, but the distance was too great for me to use it with

effect, so I turned to Gobo, who was shivering with terror at my side,

and handing him the carbine, took my express from him.

“The enemy was now about three hundred and fifty yards away, and the

express was only sighted to three hundred. Still I knew that it could

be trusted for the extra fifty yards. Running in front of Wambe’s

soldiers were two men—captains, I suppose—one of them very tall. I put

up the three hundred yard flap, and sitting down with my back against

the rock, I drew a long breath to steady myself, and covered the tall

man, giving him a full sight. Feeling that I was on him, I pulled, and

before the sound of the striking bullet could reach my ears, I saw the

man throw up his arms and pitch forward on to his head. His companion

stopped dead, giving me a fair chance. I rapidly covered him, and fired

the left barrel. He turned round once, and then sank down in a heap.

This caused the enemy to hesitate—they had never seen men killed at

such a distance before, and thought that there was something uncanny

about the performance. Taking advantage of the lull, I gave the express

back to Gobo, and slinging the Winchester repeater over my back I began

to climb the cliff.

“When we reached the projecting angle all the loads were over, but the

tusks still had to be passed up, and owing to their weight and the

smoothness of their surface, this was a very difficult task. Of course

I ought to have abandoned the tusks; often and often have I since

reproached myself for not doing so. Indeed, I think that my obstinacy

about them was downright sinful, but I was always obstinate about such

things, and I could not bear the idea of leaving those splendid tusks

which had cost me so much pains and danger to come by. Well, it nearly

cost me my life also, and did cost poor Gobo his, as will be seen

shortly, to say nothing of the loss inflicted by my rifle on the enemy.

When I reached the projection I found that the men, with their usual

stupidity, were trying to hand up the tusks point first. Now the result

of this was that those above had nothing to grip except the round

polished surface of the ivory, and in the position in which they were,

this did not give them sufficient hold to enable them to lift the

weight. I told them to reverse the tusks and push them up, so that the

rough and hollow ends came to the hands of the men above. This they

did, and the first two were dragged up in safety.

“At this point, looking behind me, I saw the Matukus streaming up the

slope in a rough extended order, and not more than a hundred yards

away. Cocking the Winchester I turned and opened fire on them. I don’t

quite know how many I missed, but I do know that I never shot better in

my life. I had to keep shifting myself from one enemy to the other,

firing almost without getting a sight, that is, by the eye alone, after

the fashion of the experts who break glass balls. But quick as the work

was, men fell thick, and by the time that I had emptied the carbine of

its twelve cartridges, for the moment the advance was checked. I

rapidly pushed in some more cartridges, and hardly had I done so when

the enemy, seeing that we were about to escape them altogether, came on

once more with a tremendous yell. By this time the two halves of the

single tusk of the great bull alone remained to be passed up. I fired

and fired as effectively as before, but notwithstanding all that I

could do, some men escaped my hail of bullets and began to ascend the

cliff. Presently my rifle was again empty. I slung it over my back,

and, drawing my revolver, turned to run for it, the attackers being now

quite close. As I did so, a spear struck the cliff close to my head.

“The last half of the tusk was now vanishing over the rock, and I sung

out to Gobo and the other man who had been pushing it up to vanish

after it. Gobo, poor fellow, required no second invitation; indeed, his

haste was his undoing. He went at the projecting rock with a bound. The

end of the tusk was still hanging over, and instead of grasping the

rock he caught at it. It twisted in his hand—he slipped—he fell; with

one wild shriek he vanished into the abyss beneath, his falling body

brushing me as it passed. For a moment we stood aghast, and presently

the dull thud of his fall smote heavily upon our ears. Poor fellow, he

had met the Fate which, as he declared, walked about loose in Wambe’s

country. Then with an oath the remaining man sprung at the rock and

clambered over it in safety. Aghast at the awfulness of what had

happened, I stood still, till I saw the great blade of a Matuku spear

pass up between my feet. That brought me to my senses, and I began to

clamber up the rock like a cat. I was half way round it. Already I had

clasped the hand of that brave girl Maiwa, who came down to help me,

the men having scrambled forward with the ivory, when I felt some one

seize my ankle.

“‘Pull, Maiwa, pull,’ I gasped, and she certainly did pull. Maiwa was a

very muscular woman, and never before did I appreciate the advantages

of the physical development of females so keenly. She tugged at my left

arm, the savage below tugged at my right leg, till I began to realize

that something must give way ere long. Luckily I retained my presence

of mind, like the man who threw his mother-in-law out of the window,

and carried the mattress down-stairs, when a fire broke out in his

house. My right hand was still free, and in it I held my revolver,

which was secured to my wrist by a leather thong. The pistol was

cocked, and I simply pointed it downwards and fired. The result was

instantaneous—and so far as I am concerned, most satisfactory. The

bullet hit the man beneath me somewhere, I am sure I don’t know where;

at any rate, he let go of my leg and plunged headlong into the gulf

beneath to join Gobo. In another moment I was on the top of the rock,

and going up the remaining steps like a lamplighter. A single other

soldier appeared in pursuit, but one of my boys at the top fired my

elephant gun at him. I don’t know if he hit him or only frightened him;

at any rate, he vanished whence he came. I do know, however, that he

very nearly hit _me_, for I felt the wind of the bullet.

“Another thirty seconds, and I and the woman Maiwa were at the top of

the cliff panting, but safe.

“My men, being directed thereto by Maiwa, had most fortunately rolled

up some big boulders which lay about, and with these we soon managed to

block the passage through the overhanging ridge of rock in such fashion

that the soldiers below could not possibly climb over it. Indeed, so

far as I could see, they did not even try to do so—their heart was

turned to fat, as the Zulus say.

“Then having rested a few moments we took up the loads, including the

tusks of ivory that had cost us so dear, and in silence marched on for

a couple of miles or more, till we reached a patch of dense bush. And

here, being utterly exhausted, we camped for the night, taking the

precaution, however, of setting a guard to watch against any attempt at

surprise.”

Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little Hand · 第 5 / 8 章