RACE FOR LIFE
Now, like a Scotch parson, I have come to “lastly”—that
inspiring word at which the sleepiest congregation awakes. The morning
following this strange midnight meeting, Hans and I spent in our room,
for it appeared to be the ancient Walloo etiquette that, save by
special permission, the prospective bridegroom should not go out for
several days before the marriage, I suppose because of some primitive
idea that his affections might be diverted by the sight of alien
beauty.
At midday we ate, or, so far as I was concerned, pretended to eat, for
anxiety took away my appetite. A little while afterwards, to my intense
relief, the captain of our prison-warders, for that is what they were,
appeared and said that he was commanded to conduct us to the canoe
which was to paddle us to inspect what remained of the island, I
replied that we would graciously consent to go. So taking all our small
possessions with us, including a bundle containing our spare clothes
and the twigs from the Tree of Illusions, we departed and were escorted
to the quay by our guards, of whose faces I was heartily tired. Here we
found a small canoe awaiting us, manned by four secret-faced men,
strong fellows all of them, who raised their paddles in salute.
Apparently the place had been cleared of loiterers, since there was
only one other person present, a woman wrapped in a long cloak that hid
her face.
As we were about to enter the canoe this woman approached us and lifted
her hood. She was Dramana.
“Lord,” she said, “I have been sent by my sister, the new
Walloo, to tell you that you will find the iron tubes which spit out
fire and all that belongs to them under a mat in the prow of the canoe.
Also she bids me wish you a prosperous journey to the island that
aforetime was named Holy, which island she wishes never to see again.”
I thanked her and bade her convey my greeting to the Walloo, my bride
to be, adding in a loud voice, that I hoped ere long to be able to do
this in person when her “veil fell down.”
Then I turned to enter the canoe.
“Lord,” said Dramana with a convulsive movement of her hands,
“I make a prayer to you. It is that you will take me with you to look
my last upon that isle where I dwelt so long a slave, which I desire to
see once more—now that I am free.”
Instinctively I felt that a crisis had arisen which demanded firm and
even brutal treatment.
“Nay, Dramana,” I answered, “it is always unlucky for an
escaped slave to revisit his prison, lest once more its bars should
close about that slave.”
“Lord,” she said, “the loosed prisoner is sometimes dazed by
freedom, so that the heart cries again for its captivity. Lord, I am a
good slave and a loving. Will you not take me with you?”
“Nay, Dramana,” I answered as I sprang into the canoe. “This
boat is fully loaded. It would not be for your welfare or for mine.
Farewell!”
She gazed at me earnestly with a pitiful countenance that grew wrathful
by degrees, as might well happen in the case of a woman scorned; then,
muttering something about being “cast off,” burst into angry tears
and turned away. For my part I motioned to the oarsmen to loose the
craft and departed, feeling like a thief and a traitor. Yet I was not
to blame, for what else could I do? Dramana, it is true, had been a
good friend to us, and I liked her. But we had repaid her help by
saving her from Heu-Heu, and for the rest, one must draw the line
somewhere. If once she had entered that canoe, metaphorically speaking,
she would never have got out of it again.
Presently we were out on the open lake where the wavelets danced and
the sun shone brightly, and glad I was to be clear of all those painful
complications and once more in the company of pure and natural things.
We paddled away to the island and made the land, or rather drew near to
it, at the spot where the ancient city had stood in which we had found
the petrified men and animals. But we did not set foot on it, for
everywhere little streams of glowing lava trickled down into the lake
and the ruins had vanished beneath a sea of ashes. I do not think that
any one will ever again behold those strange relics of a past I know
not how remote.
Turning, we paddled on slowly round the island till we came to the
place where the Rock of Offering had been, upon which I had experienced
so terrible an adventure. It had vanished, and with it the cave mouth,
the garden of Heu-Heu, its Tree of Illusions, and all the rich
cultivated land. The waters of the lake, turbid and steaming, now beat
against the face of a stony hillock which was all that remained of the
Holy Isle. The catastrophe was complete; the volcano was but a lump of
lava from the dying heart of which its life-blood of flame still
palpitated in red and ebbing streams. I wonder whether its smothered
fires will ever break out again elsewhere. For aught I know they may
have done so already somewhere on the mainland.
By the time that we had completed our journey round the place on which
no living creature now was left, though once or twice we saw the
bloated body of a Heuheua savage bobbing about in the water, the sun
was setting, and it was dark before we were again off the town of the
Walloos. While any light remained by which we could be seen, we headed
straight for the landing place, that which we had left when we started
for the island.
The moment that its last rays faded, however, there was a whispered
conference between our four paddlemen, the ex-neophytes of Heu-Heu.
Then the direction of the canoe was altered, and instead of making for
the main land, we rowed on parallel with it till we came to the mouth
of the Black River. It was so dark that I could not discern the exact
time at which we left the lake and entered the stream; indeed, I did
not know that we were in it until the increased current told me so.
This current was now running very strongly after the great flood and
bore us along at a good pace. My fear was lest in the gloom we should
be dashed against rocks on the banks, or caught by the overhanging
branches of trees or strike a snag, but those four men seemed to know
every yard of the river and managed to keep us in its centre, probably
by following the current where it ran most swiftly.
So we went on, not paddling very fast for fear of accidents, until the
moon rose, which, as she was only a few days past her full, gave us
considerable light even in that dark place. So soon as her rays reached
us our paddlers gave way with a will, and we shot down the flooded
stream at a great speed.
“I think we are all right now, Baas,” said Hans, “for with so
good a start those Walloos could scarcely catch us, even if they try.
We are lucky, too, for you have left behind you two ladies who between
them would have torn you into pieces, and I have left a place where the
fools who live in it wearied me so much that I should soon have died.”
He paused for a moment, then added in a horrified voice:
“_Allemagter!_ we are not so lucky after all; we have forgotten
something.”
“What?” I asked anxiously.
“Why, Baas, those red and white stones we came to fetch, of which,
before Heu-Heu dropped a red-hot rock upon his head, that old
_kraansick_” (that is, mad) “Walloo, promised us as many as we
wished. Sabeela would have filled the boat with them if we had only
asked her, and we should never have had to work any more, but could
have sat in fine houses and drunk the best gin from morning to night.”
At these words I felt positively sick. It was too true. Amongst other
pressing matters, concerning life, death, marriage, and liberty, I had
forgotten utterly all about the diamonds and gold. Still when I came to
think of it, although perhaps Hans might have done so, in view of the
manner of our parting, I did not quite see how I could have asked
Sabeela for them. It would have been an anticlimax and might have left
a nasty taste in her mouth. How could she continue to look upon a man
as—well, something quite out of the ordinary, who called her back to
remind her that there was a little pecuniary matter to be settled and a
fee to be paid for services rendered? Further, the sight of us bearing
sacks of treasure might have excited suspicion; unless, indeed, Sabeela
had caused them to be placed in the boat as she did in the case of the
guns. Also they would have been heavy and inconvenient to carry, as I
explained to Hans. Yet I did feel sick, for once more my hopes of
wealth, or, at any rate, of a solid competence for the rest of my days,
had vanished into thin air.
“Life is more than gold,” I said sententiously to Hans, “and
great honour is better than both.”
It sounded like something out of the Book of Proverbs, but somehow I
had not got it quite right though I reflected that fortunately Hans
would not know the difference. However, he knew more than I thought,
for he answered,
“Yes, Baas, your Reverend Father used to talk like that. Also he said
that it was better to live on watercresses with an easy mind, however
angry they might make your stomach, than to dwell in a big hut with a
couple of cross women, which is what would have happened to you, Baas,
if you had stopped at Walloo. Besides, we are quite safe now, even if
we haven’t got the gold and diamonds, which, as you say, are heavy
things, so safe that I think I shall go to sleep, Baas. _Allemagter!_
Baas, _what’s that?_”
“Only those poor hairy women howling over their dead in the
forest,” I answered rather carelessly, for their cries, which were very
distressing in the silence of the river, still echoed in my ears. Also
I was still thinking of the lost diamonds.
“I wish it were, Baas. They might howl till their heads fell off for
all I care. But it isn’t. It’s paddles. _The Walloos are hunting
us, Baas._ Listen!”
I did listen, and to my horror heard the regular stroke of paddles
striking the water at a distance behind us, a great number of them,
fifty I should say. One of the big canoes must be on our track.
“Oh, Baas!” said Hans, “it is your fault again. Without doubt
that lady Dramana loves you so much that she can’t make up her mind to
part with you and has ordered out a big canoe to fetch you back.
Unless, indeed,” he added with an access of hopefulness, “it is the
Lady Sabeela sending a farewell gift of jewels after us, having
remembered that we should like some to make us think of her
afterwards.”
“It is those confounded Walloos sending a gift of spears,” I
answered gloomily, adding, “Get the rifles ready, Hans, for I’m not
going to be taken alive.”
Whatever the cause, it was clear that we were being pursued, and in my
heart I did wonder whether Dramana had anything to do with it. No doubt
I had treated her rudely because I could not help it, and savage women
are sometimes very revengeful, also Dramana had been badly trained
among those rascally priests. But I hoped, and still hope, that she was
innocent of this treachery. The truth of the matter I never learned.
Our crew of escaping priestly spies had also heard the paddles, for I
saw the frightened look they gave to each other and the fierce energy
with which they bent themselves to their work. Good heavens! how they
paddled, who knew that their lives hung upon the issue. For hour after
hour away we flew down that flooded, rushing river, while behind us,
drawing nearer minute by minute, sounded the beat of those insistent
paddles. Our canoe was swift, but how could we hope to escape from one
driven by fifty men when we had but four?
It was just as we passed the place where we had slept on our inward
journey—for now we had left the forest behind and were between the
cliffs, travelling quite twice as fast as we had done up stream—that I
caught sight of the pursuing boat, perhaps half a mile behind us, and
saw that it was one of the largest of the Walloo fleet. After this,
owing to the position of the moon, that in this narrow place left the
surface of the water quite dark, I saw it no more for several hours.
But I heard it drawing nearer, ever nearer, like some sure and deadly
bloodhound following on the spoor of a fleeing slave.
Our men began to tire. Hans and I took the paddles of two of them to
give the pair a rest and time to eat; then for a spell the paddles of
the other two, while they did likewise. This, however, caused us to
lose way, since we were not experts at the game, though here after the
flood the river rushed so fast that our lack of skill made little
difference.
At length the daylight came and gathered till at last the glimmer of it
reached us in our cleft, and by that faint, uncertain light I saw the
pursuing canoe not a hundred yards behind. In its way it was a very
weird and impressive spectacle. There were the precipitous, towering
cliffs, between or rather above which appeared a line of blue sky.
There was the darksome, flood-filled, foaming river, and there on its
surface was our tiny boat propelled by four weary and perspiring men,
while behind came the great war canoe whose presence could just be
detected in a dim outline and by the white of the water where its
oarsmen smote it into froth.
“They are coming up fast, Baas, and we still have a long way to go.
Soon they will catch us, Baas,” said Hans.
“Then we must try to stop them for a while,” I answered grimly.
“Give me the Express rifle, Hans, and do you take the Winchester.”
Then, lying down in the canoe and resting the rifles on its stern, we
waited our opportunity. Presently we came to a place where at some time
there had been a cliff-slide, for here the débris of it narrowed
the river, turning it, now that it was so full, into something like a
torrent. At this spot, also, because of the enlargement of the cleft,
more light reached us, so that we could see our pursuers, who were
about fifty yards away, not clearly indeed, but well enough for our
purpose.
“Aim low and pump it into them, Hans,” I said, and next instant
discharged both barrels of the Express at the foremost rowers.
Hans followed suit, but, as the Winchester held five cartridges, went
on firing after I had ceased.
The result was instantaneous. Some men sank down, some paddles fell
into the water—I could not tell how many—and a great cry arose from
the smitten or their companions. He who steered or captained the canoe
from the prow apparently was among the hit. She veered round and for a
while was broadside on to the current, exposing her bottom and
threatening to turn over. Into this, having loaded, I sent two
expanding bullets, hoping to spring a leak in her, though I was not
certain if I should succeed, as the wood of these canoes is thick. I
think I did, however, since even when she had got on her course again
she came more slowly, and I thought that once I saw a man bailing.
On we went, making the most of the advantage that this check gave to
us. But by now our men were very tired and their hands were raw from
blisters, so that only the terror of death forced them to continue
paddling. Indeed, at the last our progress grew very slow, and in fact
was due more to the current than to our own efforts. Therefore the
following canoe, which as was customary in Walloo boats of that size,
probably carried spare paddle men, once more gained upon us.
Hereabouts the river wound between its cliffs so that we only got sight
of it from time to time. Whenever we did so I took the Winchester and
fired, no doubt inflicting some damage and checking its advance.
At length the winding ceased and we reached the last stretch, a clear
run of a mile or so before the river ended in the swamp that I have
described.
By this time pursuers and pursued, both of us, were going but slowly,
drifting rather than paddling, since all were exhausted. Whenever I
could get a sight I fired away, but still with a sullen determination
and in utter silence our assailants came up, till now they were
scarcely twenty paces from us, and some of them threw spears, one of
which stuck in the bottom of our canoe, just missing my foot. At this
spot the cliffs drew so near together at the top that I ceased
shooting, as I could not see to aim, and, having no cartridges to
waste, decided to keep those that remained for the emergency of the
last attack.
Now we were in the ultimate reach of the river, and now at last we
grounded upon the first mudbank of the swamp. Those who remained unhurt
of the following Walloos made a final effort to overtake us; by the
strong light that flowed from the open land beyond us I could see their
glaring eyeballs and their tongues hanging from their jaws with
exhaustion. I yelled an order.
“Seize everything we have and run for it!” I cried, grabbing at my
rifle and such other articles as were within reach, including the
remaining cartridges.
The others did likewise—I do not think that anything was left in that
canoe except the paddles. Then I leapt on to the shore and ran to the
right, following the edge of the swamp, the rest coming after me.
Fifty yards or more away I sank down upon a little ridge from sheer
exhaustion and because my cramped legs would no longer carry me, and
watched to see what would happen. Indeed, I was so worn out that I felt
I would rather die where I was than try to flee farther.
We grouped ourselves together, awaiting the crisis, for I thought that
surely we should be attacked. But we were not. At the mudbank the
pursuing Walloos ceased from their efforts. Fora little while they sat
dejectedly in their craft till they had recovered breath.
Then for the first time those mute hunting-hounds gave tongue, for they
shouted maledictions on us, and especially on our four paddlers, the
neophytes of Heu-Heu, telling these that although to follow them
farther was not lawful, they would die, as Issicore died who left the
land. One of our men, stung into repartee, retaliated in words to the
effect that some of them had died in attempting to keep us in the land,
as they would find if they counted their oarsmen.
To this obvious truth the pursuers made no answer, nor did they inform
us who sent them on the chase. Securing our small canoe, they laid in
it certain dead men who had fallen beneath the bullets of Hans and
myself, and departed slowly up stream, towing it after them. This was
the last that I saw of their handsome, fanatical faces and of their
confounded country in which I went so near to death, or to becoming a
prisoner for life, that might have been worse.
“Baas,” said Hans, lighting his pipe, “that was a great
journey and one which it will be nice to think about, now that it is
over, though I wish that we had killed more of those Walloo
men-stealers.”
“I don’t, Hans; I hated being obliged to shoot them,” I
answered; “nor do I wish to think any more of that race for our lives,
unless it comes back in a nightmare when I can’t help doing so.”
“Don’t you, Baas? I find such thoughts pleasant when the danger is
past and we who might have been dead are alive, and the others who were
alive are dead and telling the tale to Heu-Heu.”
“Each to his taste; yours isn’t mine,” I muttered.
Hans puffed at his pipe for a while, and went on,
“It’s funny, Baas, that those _carles_ did not get out of
their canoe and come to kill us with their spears. I suppose they were
afraid of the rifles.”
“No, Hans,” I answered, “they are brave men who would not
have stopped because of the bullets. They were afraid of more than
these: they feared the Curse which says that those who leave their land
will die and go to hell. Heu-Heu has done us a good turn there, Hans.”
“Yes, Baas, no doubt he has become Christian in the Place of Fires and
is repaying good for evil, turning the other cheek, Baas. Bad people
often grow holy when they are dying, Baas. I felt like that myself when
I thought those Walloos were going to catch us, but now I feel quite
different. Baas, you remember how your Reverend Father used to say that
if you love Heaven, Heaven looks after you and pulls you out of every
kind of mudhole. That’s why I’m sitting here smoking, Baas, instead
of making meat for crocodiles. If it wasn’t for our forgetting about
those jewels, it has looked after us very well, but there are so many
up there that perhaps Heaven forgot them also.”
“No, Hans,” I said, “Heaven remembered that if we had tried
to carry bags of stones out of that boat, as well as Zikali’s medicine
and the rest, the Walloos would have caught us before we got away. They
were quite close, Hans.”
“Yes, Baas, I see, and that was very nice of Heaven. And now, Baas, I
think we had better be moving. Those Walloos might forget about the
curse for a little while and come back to look for us. Heaven is a
queer thing, Baas. Sometimes it changes its face all of a sudden and
grows angry—just like the lady Dramana did when you said that you
wouldn’t take her with you in the canoe yesterday.”
Allan paused to help himself to a little weak whisky and water, then
said in his jerky fashion,
“Well, that’s the end of the story, of which I am glad, whatever
you may be, for my throat is dry with talking. We got back to the wagon
all right after sundry difficulties and a tiring march across the
desert, and it was time we did so, for when we arrived we had only
three rifle cartridges left between us. You see we were obliged to fire
such a lot at the Heuheua when they attacked us on the lake, and
afterwards at those Walloos to prevent them from catching us that
night. However, there were more in the wagon, and I shot four elephants
with them going home. They had very large tusks, which afterwards I
sold for about enough to cover the expenses of the journey.”
“Did old Zikali make you pay for those oxen?” I asked.
“No, he did not, because I told him that if he tried it on I would not
give him his bundle of _mouti_ that we cut from the Tree of Illusions
and carried safely all that way. So as he was very keen on the
medicine, he made me a present of the oxen. Also I found my own there
grown fat and strong again. It was a curious thing, but the old
scoundrel seemed to know most of what had happened to us before ever I
told him a word. Perhaps he learned it all from one of those acolytes
of Heu-Heu who fled with us because they feared that they would be
murdered if they stayed in their own land. I forgot to tell you that
these men—most uncommunicative persons—melted away upon our
homeward journey. Suddenly they were missing. I presume that they
departed to set up as witch doctors on their own account. If so, very
possibly one or more of them may have come into touch with Zikali, the
head of the craft in that part of Africa, and before I reached the
Black Kloof.
“The first thing he asked me was: ‘Why did you not bring any gold
and diamonds away with you? Had you done so, you might have become rich
who now remain poor, Macumazahn.’
“‘Because I forgot to ask for them,’ I said.
“‘Yes, I know you forgot to ask for them. You were thinking so much
of the pain of saying good-bye to that beautiful lady whose name I have
not learned that you forgot to ask for them. It is just like you,
Macumazahn. _Oho!_ _Oho!_ it is just like you.’
“Then he stared at his fire for a while, in front of which, as usual,
he was sitting, and added: ‘Yet somehow I think that diamonds will make
you rich one day, when there is no woman left to say good-bye to,
Macumazahn.’
“It was a good shot of his, for, as you fellows know, that came about
at King Solomon’s mines, didn’t it? when there was ‘no woman
left to say good-bye to.’”
Here Good turned his head away, and Allan went on hurriedly, I think
because he remembered Foulata, and saw that his thoughtless remark had
given pain.
“Zikali was very interested in all our story and made me stop at the
Black Kloof for some days to tell him every detail.
“‘_I_ knew that Heu-Heu was an idol,’ he said,
‘though I wanted you to find it out for yourself, and therefore told
you nothing about it, just as I knew that handsome man, Issicore, would
die. But I didn’t tell him anything about that either, because, if I
had, you see he might have died before he had shown you the way to his
country, and then I shouldn’t have got my _mouti_, which is
necessary to me, for without it how should I paint more pictures on my
fire? Well, you brought me a good bundle of leaves which will last my
time, and as the Tree of Illusions is burned and there is no other left
in the world, there will be no more of it. I am glad that it is burned,
for I do not wish that any wizard should arise in the land who will be
as great as was Zikali, Opener-of-Roads. While that tree grew the high
priest of Heu-Heu was almost as great, but now he is dead and his tree
is burned, and I, Zikali, reign alone. That is what I desired,
Macumazahn, and that is why I sent you to Heuheua Land.’
“‘You cunning old villain!’ I exclaimed.
“‘Yes, Macumazahn, I am cunning just as you are simple, and my
heart is black like my skin, just as yours is white like your skin.
That is why I am great, Macumazahn, and wield power over thousands and
accomplish my desires, whereas you are small and have no power and will
die with all your desires unaccomplished. Yet, in the end, who knows,
who knows? Perhaps in the land beyond it may be otherwise. Heu-Heu was
great also and where is Heu-Heu to-day?’
“‘There never was a Heu-Heu,’ I said.
“‘No, Macumazahn, there never was a Heu-Heu, but there were priests
of Heu-Heu. Is it not so with many of the gods men set up? They are not
and never were, but their priests _are_ and shake the spear of power
and pierce the hearts of men with terrors. What, then, does it matter
about the gods whom no man sees, when the priest is there shaking the
spear of power and piercing the hearts of their worshippers? The god is
the priest or the priest is the god—have it which way you like,
Macumazahn.’
“‘Not always, Zikali.’ Then, as I did not wish to enter into
argument with him on such a subject, I asked, ‘Who carved the statue of
Heu-Heu in the Cave of Illusions? The Walloos did not know.’
“‘Nor do I, Macumazahn,’ he answered. ‘The world is
very old and there have been peoples in it of whom we have heard
nothing, or so my Spirit tells me. Without doubt one of those peoples
carved it thousands of years ago, an invading people, the last of their
race, who had been driven out elsewhere and coming south, those who
were left of them, hid themselves away from their enemies in this
secret place amid a horde of savages so hideous that it was reported to
be haunted by demons. There, in a cave in the midst of a lake where
they could not be come at, they carved an image of their god, or
perhaps of the god of the savages, whom it seems that it resembled.
“‘Mayhap the savages took their name from Heu-Heu, or mayhap
Heu-Heu took his name from them. Who can tell? At any rate, when men
seek a god, Macumazahn, they make one like themselves, only larger,
uglier, and more evil, at least in this land, for what they do
elsewhere I know not. Also, often they say that this god was once their
king, since at the bottom all worship their ancestors who gave them
life, if they worship anything at all, and often, too, because they
gave them life, they think that they must have been devils. Great
ancestors were the first gods, Macumazahn, and if they had not been
evil they would never have been great. Look at Chaka, the Lion of the
Zulus. He is called great because he was so wicked and cruel, and so it
was and is with others if they succeed, though, if they fail, men speak
otherwise of them.’
“That is not a pretty faith, Zikali,” I said.
“‘No, Macumazahn, but then little in the world is pretty, except
the world itself. The Heuheua are not pretty, or rather were not, for I
think that you killed most of them when you blew up the mountain, which
is a good thing. Heu-Heu was not pretty, nor were his priests. Only the
Walloos, and especially their women, remain pretty because of the old
blood that runs in them, the high old blood that Heu-Heu sucked from
their veins.’
“Well, Heu-Heu has gone, Zikali, and now what will become of the
Walloos?”
“‘I cannot say, Macumazahn, but I expect they will follow Heu-Heu,
who has taken hold of their souls and will drag them after him. If so,
it does not matter, since they are but the rotting stump of a tree that
once was tall and fair. The dust of Time hides many such stumps,
Macumazahn. But what of that? Other fine trees are growing which also
will become stumps in their season, and so on for ever.’
“Thus Zikali held forth, though of what he said I forget much. I
daresay that he spoke truth, but I remember that his melancholy and
pessimistic talk depressed me, and that I cut it as short as I could.
Also it did not really explain anything, since he could not tell me who
the Walloos or the Hairy Folk were, or why they worshipped Heu-Heu, or
what was their beginning, or what would be their end.
“All these things remained and remain lost in mystery, since I have
never heard anything more of them, and if any subsequent travellers
have visited the district where they live, which is not probable, they
did not succeed in ascending the river, or if they did, they never
descended it again. So if you want to know more of the story, you must
go and find it out for yourselves. Only, as I think I said, I won’t go
with you.”
“Well,” said Captain Good, “it is a wonderful yarn. Hang me,
if I could have told it better myself!”
“No, Good,” answered Allan, as he lit a hand candle, “I am
quite sure that you could not, because, you see, facts are one thing
and what you call ‘yarns’ are another. Good-night to you all,
good-night.”
Then he went off to bed.
THE END