I had completed my purchase of the farm, and was well satisfied with my
bargain. It was a nice place, and the homestead was in good repair and
very picturesquely situated, commanding a beautiful view. Aida would
revel in it. The veldt was good, and so were the faculties for stocking
water. Game too was plentiful, though the dark bushy kloofs
intersecting a high _rand_ on one side of the place gave promise of the
more undesirable kind from the stock-raiser's point of view--such as
leopards and wild dogs and baboons. However it would be hard if I
couldn't manage to keep the numbers of these down, and if they took toll
of a calf or two now and then, why one could take toll of them in the
way of sport--so that the thing was as broad as it was long.
Yes, I was well satisfied, and as I rode homeward I fell castle
building. The place would be a Paradise when I should take Aida there.
It was too marvellous. How could such a wealth of happiness come my
way? There was no cloud to mar it. Even as the vivid, unbroken blue of
the sky overhead so was this marvel of bliss which had come in upon my
life. There was no cloud to mar it.
I was not rich but I had enough. I had done myself exceedingly well in
the course of my ventures, and was beyond any anxiety or care for the
future from a pecuniary point of view. I had always lived simply and
had no expensive tastes. Now I was beginning to reap the benefit of
that fortunate condition of things. I could afford the luxury of castle
building as I cantered along mile after mile in the glorious sunlight.
I had not seen Aida for three whole days, it was that time since the
uncanny episode of the waterhole. Now I was treasuring up the
anticipation of our meeting, the light of glad welcome that would come
into her eyes, only a few hours hence, for I would call in at my own
place to see that things were all right, and get a bit of dinner, and
ride on immediately afterwards. So, mile upon mile went by and at last
shortly after mid-day I walked my horse up the long acclivity that led
to my trading store.
As I gained the latter I descried a horseman approaching from the other
direction, and he was riding too--riding as if he didn't want to use his
horse again for at least a week. By Jove! it was Kendrew, I made out as
he came nearer, but--what the devil was Kendrew in such a cast-iron,
splitting hurry about?
My boy Tom came out as I dismounted. I hardly noticed that he hadn't
got on the usual broad grin of welcome.
"Where is Jan Boom?" I asked.
"He is out after the cattle, _Nkose_," answered Tom, rather glumly I
thought. But I paid no attention to this, because Tom had taken it into
his head to be rather jealous of Jan Boom of late, as a newcomer and an
alien who seemed to be rather more in his master's confidence than he
had any right to be--from Tom's point of view.
"Well, wait a bit," I said. "Here comes another _Nkose_, Nyamaki's
nephew. You can take his horse at the same time."
Kendrew came racing up as if he were riding for his life.
"You back, Glanton?" he cried, as he flung himself off his panting,
dripping steed. "Well, that's a devilish good job. I say. What does
this mean?"
"What does what mean?"
"Man! Haven't you heard? They sent for me post-haste this morning.
Knew you were away."
"Quit jaw, Kendrew, and tell me what the devil's the row," I said
roughly, for some horrible fear had suddenly beset me.
"Miss Sewin. She's disappeared," he jerked forth.
"What?"
I have an idea that I articulated the word, though speech stuck in my
throat I felt myself go white and cold, and strong healthy man that I
was, the surroundings danced before my eyes as though I were about to
swoon. I remember too, that Kendrew ground his teeth with pain under
the grip that I had fastened upon his shoulder.
"What do you say? Disappeared?" I gasped forth again. "How? When?"
I heard him as through a mist as he told me how the afternoon before she
had gone for a walk alone with her dog. It was towards sundown. She
had not returned, and a search had been instituted, with the result that
her dog had been found dead not very far from the waterhole, but of her
no trace remained. "My God, Glanton," he ended up. "Buck up, man.
Pull yourself together or you'll go clean off your chump. Buck up,
d'you hear!"
I daresay I had a look that way, for I noticed Tom staring at me as if
he contemplated taking to his heels.
"I'm on my way down there now," said Kendrew.
I nodded. I couldn't speak just then somehow. I went into the house,
slung on a heavy revolver, and crammed a handful of cartridges into my
pocket. Then I remounted, Kendrew doing likewise, and so we took our
way down that rocky bush path at a pace that was neither wise nor safe.
"Is that all they have to go upon?" I said presently, as soon as I had
recovered my voice.
"That's all--I gather from the old man's note. I say, Glanton, what can
be behind it all? It seems on all fours with my old uncle taking
himself off. I'm beginning to think now there's some infernal foul play
going on among the niggers round us."
I was thinking the same. At first a thought of Dolf Norbury had crossed
my mind, but I dismissed it. Ukozi was behind this, somewhere. The
proximity to the waterhole associated him in my mind with the outrage.
His beastly performance with the snake!--was he training it to seize
human beings, in the furtherance of some devilish form of native
superstition? Oh, good Heavens no! That wouldn't bear thinking about.
But Aida--my love--had disappeared--had disappeared even as Hensley had.
He had never been found; the mystery of his disappearance had never
been solved. And she! Had she been hideously and secretly done to
death? Oh God! I shall go mad!
When we arrived, the Major and Falkner had just returned, and their
horses were simply reeking. They had scoured the whole farm, but
utterly without result. As for Mrs Sewin and Edith their grief was
pitiable--would have been only it was nothing by the side of mine.
"How was the dog killed?" was my first question, ignoring all greeting.
I had resolved to waste no time in grief. I had now pulled myself
together, and was going to do all that man was capable of to find my
loved one again.
"That's the strange part of it," said Falkner gruffly. "There's no
wound of any kind about the beast, and he hasn't even been hit on the
head, for his skull is quite smooth and unbroken. But, there he is--as
dead as the traditional herring."
"You didn't move him, did you?"
"No. He's there still."
"Well let's go there. I may light on a clue."
"You'd better not come, uncle," said Falkner. "You're played out, for
one thing, and there ought to be one man on the place with all this
devilish mystery going about."
"Played out be damned, sir," retorted the Major fiercely. "I'd tire you
any day. I'm going."
The dead dog was lying right in the path, just beyond where we had found
the lost coin on that memorable day. The first thing I looked for were
traces of a struggle, but if there had been any they were now completely
obliterated by hoof marks and footmarks made by Falkner and the Major
when they first made the discovery.
"The dog died before sundown," I said, after a momentary examination.
"How do you know that?" asked Falkner.
"Because the ground underneath him is perfectly dry. If he had been
killed or died later it wouldn't have been. It would have been damp
with dew. Look--Ah!"
The last exclamation was evoked by a curious circumstance as I moved the
body of the dead animal. A strange odour greeted my nostrils. It was
as the odour of death, and yet not altogether, and--it was the same that
poisoned the air on the occasion of my horse refusing to go forward on
that night at Kendrew's, and again here, almost on this very spot three
nights ago when we had come away from witnessing Ukozi's uncanny
performance at the pool. Some dark villainy underlay this, and that the
witch doctor was connected with it was borne in upon my mind without a
doubt.
I examined the dead dog long and carefully, but could read no clue as to
the manner of his death, unless he had been poisoned, but this I thought
unlikely. One thing was certain. Never in life would he have allowed
harm or violence to reach his mistress. Poor Arlo! At any other time I
should have been moved to genuine grief for his loss; now that loss was
not even felt.
Quickly, eagerly, I cast around for spoor, beyond the radius of the
disturbed part of the ground. All in vain. No trace. No trampled
grass or broken twig, or displaced leaf, absolutely nothing to afford a
clue. The thing was incomprehensible. It was as if she had been caught
up bodily into the air.
The ground here was a gentle declivity, moderately studded with bush.
It was not rocky nor rugged, and was entirely devoid of holes or caves
into which anyone might fall.
Suddenly every drop of blood within me was set tingling. I had found a
trace. Where the ground was stony, just above the path I discovered an
abrasion, as though a boot, with nail heads in the soles, had scraped
it.
It was very faint, but still--there was no mistaking it. It was a
genuine spoor. And it led on and on, utterly undiscernible to the Major
or Falkner, hardly visible to Kendrew at times, but plain enough to me.
And now hope beat high. We would find her. We had only to follow on
this spoor which we had struck, and we would find her. Heaven knew how,
but still! we would find her. She might have met with an accident and
be sorely in need of help, but--still we would find her, and this--even
this--after the blank, awful realisation of her loss, akin, as it was,
to the disappearance of Hensley--contained relative comfort.
The others were watching me with mingled anxiety and curiosity as, bent
low over the ground, I followed these faint indications. The latter
were tolerably perceptible now to a practised eye, though to no other,
and I kept upon them steadily. Then a ghastly fear smote me again upon
the heart. The spoor was leading straight for the waterhole.
What did it mean? She would not have gone there--voluntarily. After
the spectacle we had witnessed that night nothing on earth would have
induced her to revisit the uncanny place alone, even by daylight. Yet
the dreadful thought had already forced itself upon my mind, that there,
if anywhere, would the mystery be solved.
In silence, eager, intensified, we pursued our way; for the others would
not speak lest they should distract my mind from its concentration.
Thus we came out upon the waterhole.
The spoor had led us straight to the high brow of cliff overhanging the
pool--the spot upon which we had all stood that afternoon when we had
first seen the mysterious monster which had disturbed the water. And--
what was this?
All the soil here, where it was not solid rock, had been swept with
branches. There was the pattern in the dust, even if stray leaves and
twigs scattered about had not gone towards showing that, beyond a doubt.
The object was manifest--to efface all traces of a struggle.
Heavens! my brain seemed to be turning to mud with the drear despair of
each fresh discovery. The witch doctor's promise to show the old man
the mystery of the waterhole came back to my mind. I put together the
words of _sibongo_ to the snake I had heard him chanting. Ukozi had
been preparing a way towards a sacrifice to his demon. He had
accustomed the great python to seizing its victim as he brought it--and
he had always brought it, so small, so insufficient, in the shape of the
kid we had seen him give it, as to excite the appetite of the monster
rather than to gratify it. He had been practising on Major Sewin's
curiosity, so that when the time should be ripe he would bring him to
the edge of the pool, where all unsuspecting he would be seized by the
monster and never be seen or heard of again. And now, and now--this
unspeakably horrible and revolting fate, instead of overtaking the old
man, had overtaken Aida, my love, the sun and Paradise of my life,
instead. She had been substituted for him, as the easier, possibly the
more acceptable victim.
But, Ukozi! Whatever might happen to me I would capture and revenge
myself upon him in a manner which should out-do the vengeance of the
most vindictive and cruel of his own countrymen. I would spend days and
nights gloating over his agony, and afterwards it should be talked about
with fear and shuddering among the whole population of the border--ay,
and beyond it I would do it; how I knew not, but, I would do it. All
hell was seething in my brain just then--all hell, as I thought of my
love, in her daintiness and grace; the very embodiment of a refinement
and an elevating influence that was almost--no, entirely--divine,
sacrificed horribly to the revolting superstitions of these savages,
whom I had hitherto regarded as equalling in manly virtues those who
could boast of centuries of so-called civilisation at their backs. And
yet--revenge--could it bring back to me my love--my sweet lost love?