CHARGE!
Ten minutes later the truth was known and every man in the camp was up
and armed. At first there were some signs of panic, but these with the
help of Babemba we managed to control, setting the men to make the best
preparations for defence that circumstances would allow, and thus
occupying their minds. For from the first we saw that, except for the
three of us who had horses, escape was impossible. That great camel
corps could catch us within a mile.
Leaving old Babemba in charge of his soldiers, we three white men and
Hans held a council at which I repeated every word that had passed
between Harût and Marût and myself, including their absolute denial of
their having had anything to do with the disappearance of Lady Ragnall
on the Nile.
“Now,” I asked, “what is to be done? My fate is sealed, since for
purposes of their own, of which probably we know nothing, these people
intend to take me with them to their country, as indeed they are
justified in doing, since I have been fool enough to keep a kind of
assignation with them here. But they don’t want anybody else. Therefore
there is nothing to prevent you Ragnall, and you Savage, and you Hans,
from returning with the Mazitu.”
“Oh! Baas,” said Hans, who could understand English well enough
although he seldom spoke it, “why are you always bothering me with such
_praatjes_?”—(that is, chatter). “Whatever you do I will do, and I
don’t care what you do, except for your own sake, Baas. If I am going
to die, let me die; it doesn’t at all matter how, since I must go soon
and make report to your reverend father, the Predikant. And now, Baas,
I have been awake all night, for I heard those camels coming a long
while before the two spook men appeared, and as I have never heard
camels before, could not make out what they were, for they don’t walk
like giraffes. So I am going to sleep, Baas, there in the sun. When you
have settled things, you can wake me up and give me your orders,” and
he suited the action to the word, for when I glanced at him again he
was, or appeared to be, slumbering, just like a dog at its master’s
feet.
I looked at Ragnall in interrogation.
“I am going on,” he said briefly.
“Despite the denial of these men of any complicity in your wife’s
fate?” I asked. “If their words are true, what have you to gain by this
journey, Ragnall?”
“An interesting experience while it lasts; that is all. Like Hans
there, if what they say _is_ true, my future is a matter of complete
indifference to me. But I do not believe a word of what they say.
Something tells me that they know a great deal which they do not choose
to repeat—about my wife I mean. That is why they are so anxious that I
should not accompany you.”
“You must judge for yourself,” I answered doubtfully, “and I hope to
Heaven that you are judging right. Now, Savage, what have you decided?
Remember before you reply that these uncanny fellows declare that if we
four go, two of us will never return. It seems impossible that they can
read the future, still, without doubt, they _are_ most uncanny.”
“Sir,” said Savage, “I will take my chance. Before I left England his
lordship made a provision for my old mother and my widowed sister and
her children, and I have none other dependent upon me. Moreover, I
won’t return alone with those Mazitu to become a barbarian, for how
could I find my way back to the coast without anyone to guide me? So
I’ll go on and leave the rest to God.”
“Which is just what we have all got to do,” I remarked. “Well, as that
is settled, let us send for Babemba and tell him.”
This we did accordingly. The old fellow received the news with more
resignation than I had anticipated. Fixing his one eye upon me, he
said:
“Macumazana, these words are what I expected from you. Had any other
man spoken them I should have declared that he was quite mad. But I
remember that I said this when you determined to visit the Pongo, and
that you came back from their country safe and sound, having done
wonderful things there, and that it was the Pongo who suffered, not
you. So I believe it will be again, so far as you are concerned,
Macumazana, for I think that some devil goes with you who looks after
his own. For the others I do not know. They must settle the matter with
their own devils, or with those of the Kendah people. Now farewell,
Macumazana, for it comes to me that we shall meet no more. Well, that
happens to all at last, and it is good to have known you who are so
great in your own way. Often I shall think of you as you will think of
me, and hope that in a country beyond that of the Kendah I may hear
from your lips all that has befallen you on this and other journeys.
Now I go to withdraw my men before these white-robed Arabs come on
their strange beasts to seize you, lest they should take us also and
there should be a fight in which we, being the fewer, must die. The
loads are all in order ready to be laden on their strange beasts. If
they declare that the horses cannot cross the desert, leave them loose
and we will catch them and take them home with us, and since they are
male and female, breed young ones from them which shall be yours when
you send for them, or Bausi the king’s if you never send. Nay, I want
no more presents who have the gun and the powder and the bullets you
gave me, and the tusks of ivory for Bausi the king, and what is best of
all, the memory of you and of your courage and wisdom. May these and
the gods you worship befriend you. From yonder hill we will watch till
we see that you have gone. Farewell,” and waiting for no answer, he
departed with the tears running from his solitary eye.
Ten minutes later the Mazitu bearers had also saluted us and gone,
leaving us seated in that deserted camp surrounded by our baggage, and
so far as I was concerned, feeling most lonely. Another ten minutes
went by which we occupied in packing our personal belongings. Then
Hans, who was now washing out the coffee kettle at a little distance,
looked up and said:
“Here come the spook-men, Baas, the whole regiment of them.” We ran and
looked. It was true. Marshalled in orderly squadrons, the camels with
their riders were sweeping towards us, and a fine sight the beasts made
with their swaying necks and long, lurching gait. About fifty yards
away they halted just where the stream from our spring entered the
desert, and there proceeded to water the camels, twenty of them at a
time. Two men, however, in whom I recognized Harût and Marût, walked
forward and presently were standing before us, bowing obsequiously.
“Good morning, Lord,” said Harût to Ragnall in his broken English. “So
you come with Macumazana to call at our poor house, as we call at your
fine one in England. You think we got the beautiful lady you marry, she
we give old necklace. That is not so. No white lady ever in Kendahland.
We hear story from Macumazana and believe that lady drowned in Nile,
for you ‘member she walk much in her sleep. We very sorry for you, but
gods know their business. They leave when they will leave, and take
when they will take. You find her again some day more beautiful still
and with her soul come back.”
Here I looked at him sharply. I had told him nothing about Lady Ragnall
having lost her wits. How then did he know of the matter? Still I
thought it best to hold my peace. I think that Harût saw he had made
some mistake, for leaving the subject of Lady Ragnall, he went on:
“You very welcome, O Lord, but it right tell you this most dangerous
journey, since elephant Jana not like strangers, and,” he continued
slowly, “think no elephant like your blood, and all elephants brothers.
What one hate rest hate everywhere in world. See it in your face that
you already suffer great hurt from elephant, you or someone near you.
Also some of Kendah very fierce people and love fighting, and p’raps
there war in the land while you there, and in war people get killed.”
“Very good, my friend,” said Ragnall, “I am prepared to take my chance
of these things. Either we all go to your country together, as
Macumazana has explained to you, or none of us go.”
“We understand. That is our bargain and we no break word,” replied
Harût.
Then he turned his benevolent gaze upon Savage, and said: “So you come
too, Mr. Bena. That your name here, eh? Well, you learn lot things in
Kendahland, about snakes and all rest.”
Here the jovial-looking Marût whispered something into the ear of his
companion, smiling all over his face and showing his white teeth as he
did so. “Oh!” went on Harût, “my brother tells me you meet one snake
already, down in country called Natal, but sit on him so hard, that he
grow quite flat and no bite.”
“Who told him that?” gasped Savage.
“Oh! forget. Think Macumazana. No? Then p’raps you tell him in sleep,
for people talk much in sleep, you know, and some other people got good
ears and hear long way. Or p’raps little joke Harût. You ‘member, he
first-rate conjurer. P’raps he send that snake. No trouble if know how.
Well, we show you much better snake Kendahland. But you no sit on
_him_, Mr. Bena.”
To me, I know not why, there was something horrible in all this
jocosity, something that gave me the creeps as always does the sight of
a cat playing with a mouse. I felt even then that it foreshadowed
terrible things. How _could_ these men know the details of occurrences
at which they were not present and of which no one had told them? Did
that strange “tobacco” of theirs really give them some clairvoyant
power, I wondered, or had they other secret methods of obtaining news?
I glanced at poor Savage and perceived that he too felt as I did, for
he had turned quite pale beneath his tan. Even Hans was affected, for
he whispered to me in Dutch: “These are not men; these are devils,
Baas, and this journey of ours is one into hell.”
Only Ragnall sat stern, silent, and apparently quite unmoved. Indeed
there was something almost sphinx-like about the set and expression of
his handsome face. Moreover, I felt sure that Harût and Marût
recognized the man’s strength and determination and that he was one
with whom they must reckon seriously. Beneath all their smiles and
courtesies I could read this knowledge in their eyes; also that it was
causing them grave anxiety. It was as though they knew that here was
one against whom their power had no avail, whose fate was the master of
their fate. In a sense Harût admitted this to me, for suddenly he
looked up and said in a changed voice and in Bantu:
“You are a good reader of hearts, O Macumazana, almost as good as I am.
But remember that there is One Who writes upon the book of the heart,
Who is the Lord of us who do but read, and that what He writes, that
will befall, strive as we may, for in His hands is the future.”
“Quite so,” I replied coolly, “and that is why I am going with you to
Kendahland and fear you not at all.”
“So it is and so let it be,” he answered. “And now, Lords, are you
ready to start? For long is the road and who knows what awaits us ere
we see its end?”
“Yes,” I replied, “long is the road of life and who knows what awaits
us ere we see its end—and after?”
Three hours later I halted the splendid white riding-camel upon which I
was mounted, and looked back from the crest of a wave of the desert.
There far behind us on the horizon, by the help of my glasses, I could
make out the site of the camp we had left and even the tall ant-hill
whence I had gazed in the moonlight at our mysterious escort which
seemed to have sprung from the desert as though by magic.
This was the manner of our march: A mile or so ahead of us went a
picket of eight or ten men mounted on the swiftest beasts, doubtless to
give warning of any danger. Next, three or four hundred yards away,
followed a body of about fifty Kendah, travelling in a double line, and
behind these the baggage men, mounted like everyone else, and leading
behind them strings of camels laden with water, provisions, tents of
skin and all our goods, including the fifty rifles and the ammunition
that Ragnall had brought from England. Then came we three white men and
Hans, each of us riding as swift and fine a camel as Africa can breed.
On our right at a distance of about half a mile, and also on our left,
travelled other bodies of the Kendah of the same numerical strength as
that ahead, while the rear was brought up by the remainder of the
company who drove a number of spare camels.
Thus we journeyed in the centre of a square whence any escape would
have been impossible, for I forgot to say that our keepers Harût and
Marût rode exactly behind us, at such a distance that we could call to
them if we wished.
At first I found this method of travelling very tiring, as does
everyone who is quite unaccustomed to camel-back. Indeed the swing and
the jolt of the swift creature beneath me seemed to wrench my bones
asunder to such an extent that at the beginning I had once or twice to
be lifted from the saddle when, after hours of torture, at length we
camped for the night. Poor Savage suffered even more than I did, for
the motion reduced him to a kind of jelly. Ragnall, however, who I
think had ridden camels before, felt little inconvenience, and the same
may be said of Hans, who rode in all sorts of positions, sometimes
sideways like a lady, and at others kneeling on the saddle like a
monkey on a barrel-organ. Also, being very light and tough as rimpis,
the swaying motion did not seem to affect him.
By degrees all these troubles left us to such an extent that I could
cover my fifty miles a day, more or less, without even feeling tired.
Indeed I grew to like the life in that pure and sparkling desert air,
perhaps because it was so restful. Day after day we journeyed on across
the endless, sandy plain, watching the sun rise, watching it grow high,
watching it sink again. Night after night we ate our simple food with
appetite and slept beneath the glittering stars till the new dawn broke
in glory from the bosom of the immeasurable East.
We spoke but little during all this time. It was as though the silence
of the wilderness had got hold of us and sealed our lips. Or perhaps
each of us was occupied with his own thoughts. At any rate I know that
for my part I seemed to live in a kind of dreamland, thinking of the
past, reflecting much upon the innumerable problems of this passing
show called life, but not paying much heed to the future. What did the
future matter to me, who did not know whether I should have a share of
it even for another month, or week, or day, surrounded as I was by the
shadow of death? No, I troubled little as to any earthly future,
although I admit that in this oasis of calm I reflected upon that state
where past, present and future will all be one; also that those
reflections, which were in their essence a kind of unshaped prayer,
brought much calm to my spirit.
With the regiment of escort we had practically no communication; I
think that they had been forbidden to talk to us. They were a very
silent set of men, finely-made, capable persons, of an Arab type, light
rather than dark in colour, who seemed for the most part to communicate
with each other by signs or in low-muttered words. Evidently they
looked upon Harût and Marût with great veneration, for any order which
either of these brethren gave, if they were brethren, was obeyed
without dispute or delay. Thus, when I happened to mention that I had
lost a pocket-knife at one of our camping-places two days’ journey
back, three of them, much against my wish, were ordered to return to
look for it, and did so, making no question. Eight days later they
rejoined us much exhausted and having lost a camel, but with the knife,
which they handed to me with a low bow; and I confess that I felt
ashamed to take the thing.
Nor did we exchange many further confidences with Harût and Marût. Up
to the time of our arrival at the boundaries of the Kendah country, our
only talk with them was of the incidents of travel, of where we should
camp, of how far it might be to the next water, for water-holes or old
wells existed in this desert, of such birds as we saw, and so forth. As
to other and more important matters a kind of truce seemed to prevail.
Still, I observed that they were always studying us, and especially
Lord Ragnall, who rode on day after day, self-absorbed and staring
straight in front of him as though he looked at something we could not
see.
Thus we covered hundreds of miles, not less than five hundred at the
least, reckoning our progress at only thirty miles a day, including
stoppages. For occasionally we stopped at the water-holes or small
oases, where the camels drank and rested. Indeed, these were so
conveniently arranged that I came to the conclusion that once there
must have been some established route running across these wastelands
to the south, of which the traditional knowledge remained with the
Kendah people. If so, it had not been used for generations, for save
those of one or two that had died on the outward march, we saw no
skeletons of camels or other beasts, or indeed any sign of man. The
place was an absolute wilderness where nothing lived except a few small
mammals at the oases and the birds that passed over it in the air on
their way to more fertile regions. Of these, by the way, I saw many
that are known both to Europe and Africa, especially ducks and cranes;
also storks that, for aught I can say, may have come from far-off,
homely Holland.
At last the character of the country began to change. Grass appeared on
its lower-lying stretches, then bushes, then occasional trees and among
the trees a few buck. Halting the caravan I crept out and shot two of
these buck with a right and left, a feat that caused our grave escort
to stare in a fashion which showed me that they had never seen anything
of the sort done before.
That night, while we were eating the venison with relish, since it was
the first fresh meat that we had tasted for many a day, I observed that
the disposition of our camp was different from its common form. Thus it
was smaller and placed on an eminence. Also the camels were not allowed
to graze where they would as usual, but were kept within a limited area
while their riders were arranged in groups outside of them. Further,
the stores were piled near our tents, in the centre, with guards set
over them. I asked Harût and Marût, who were sharing our meal, the
reason of these alterations.
“It is because we are on the borders of the Kendah country,” answered
old Harût. “Four days’ more march will bring us there, Macumazana.”
“Then why should you take precautions against your own people? Surely
they will welcome you.”
“With spears perhaps. Macumazana, learn that the Kendah are not one but
two people. As you may have heard before, we are the White Kendah, but
there are also Black Kendah who outnumber us many times over, though in
the beginning we from the north conquered them, or so says our history.
The White Kendah have their own territory; but as there is no other
road, to reach it we must pass through that of the Black Kendah, where
it is always possible that we may be attacked, especially as we bring
strangers into the land.”
“How is it then that the Black Kendah allow you to live at all, Harût,
if they are so much the more numerous?”
“Because of fear, Macumazana. They fear our wisdom and the decrees of
the Heavenly Child spoken through the mouth of its oracle, which, if it
is offended, can bring a curse upon them. Still, if they find us
outside our borders they may kill us, if they can, as we may kill them
if we find them within our borders.”
“Indeed, Harût. Then it looks to me as though there were a war breeding
between you.”
“A war is breeding, Macumazana, the last great war in which either the
White Kendah or the Black Kendah must perish. Or perhaps both will die
together. Maybe that is the real reason why we have asked you to be our
guest, Macumazana,” and with their usual courteous bows, both of them
rose and departed before I could reply.
“You see how it stands,” I said to Ragnall. “We have been brought here
to fight for our friends, Harût, Marût and Co., against their
rebellious subjects, or rather the king who reigns jointly with them.”
“It looks like it,” he replied quietly, “but doubtless we shall find
out the truth in time and meanwhile speculation is no good. Do you go
to bed, Quatermain, I will watch till midnight and then wake you.”
That night passed in safety. Next day we marched before the dawn,
passing through country that grew continually better watered and more
fertile, though it was still open plain but sloping upwards ever more
steeply. On this plain I saw herds of antelopes and what in the
distance looked like cattle, but no human being. Before evening we
camped where there was good water and plenty of food for the camels.
While the camp was being set Harût came and invited us to follow him to
the outposts, whence he said we should see a view. We walked with him,
a matter of not more than a quarter of a mile to the head of that rise
up which we had been travelling all day, and thence perceived one of
the most glorious prospects on which my eyes have fallen in all great
Africa. From where we stood the land sloped steeply for a matter of ten
or fifteen miles, till finally the fall ended in a vast plain like to
the bottom of a gigantic saucer, that I presume in some far time of the
world’s history was once an enormous lake. A river ran east and west
across this plain and into it fell tributaries. Far beyond this river
the contours of the country rose again till, many, many miles away,
there appeared a solitary hill, tumulus-shaped, which seemed to be
covered with bush.
Beyond and surrounding this hill was more plain which with the aid of
my powerful glasses was, we could see, bordered at last by a range of
great mountains, looking like a blue line pencilled across the northern
distance. To the east and west the plain seemed to be illimitable.
Obviously its soil was of a most fertile character and supported
numbers of inhabitants, for everywhere we could see their kraals or
villages. Much of it to the west, however, was covered with dense
forest with, to all appearance, a clearing in its midst.
“Behold the land of the Kendah,” said Harût. “On this side of the River
Tava live the Black Kendah, on the farther side, the White Kendah.”
“And what is that hill?”
“That is the Holy Mount, the Home of the Heavenly Child, where no man
may set foot”—here he looked at us meaningly—“save the priests of the
Child.”
“What happens to him if he does?” I asked.
“He dies, my Lord Macumazana.”
“Then it is guarded, Harût?”
“It is guarded, not with mortal weapons, Macumazana, but by the spirits
that watch over the Child.”
As he would say no more on this interesting matter, I asked him as to
the numbers of the Kendah people, to which he replied that the Black
Kendah might number twenty thousand men of arm-bearing age, but the
White Kendah not more than two thousand.
“Then no wonder you want spirits to guard your Heavenly Child,” I
remarked, “since the Black Kendah are your foes and with you warriors
are few.”
At this moment our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a
picket on a camel, who reported something to Harût which appeared to
disturb him. I asked him what was the matter.
“That is the matter,” he said, pointing to a man mounted on a rough
pony who just then appeared from behind some bushes about half a mile
away, galloping down the slope towards the plain. “He is one of the
scouts of Simba, King of the Black Kendah, and he goes to Simba’s town
in yonder forest to make report of our arrival. Return to camp,
Macumazana, and eat, for we must march with the rising of the moon.”
As soon as the moon rose we marched accordingly, although the camels,
many of which were much worn with the long journey, scarcely had been
given time to fill themselves and none to rest. All night we marched
down the long slope, only halting for half an hour before daylight to
eat something and rearrange the loads on the baggage beasts, which now,
I noticed, were guarded with extra care. When we were starting again
Marût came to us and remarked with his usual smile, on behalf of his
brother Harût, who was otherwise engaged, that it might be well if we
had our guns ready, since we were entering the land of the elephant
Jana and “who knew but that we might meet him?”
“Or his worshippers on two legs,” I suggested, to which his only reply
was a nod.
So we got our repeating rifles, some of the first that were ever made,
serviceable but rather complicated weapons that fired five cartridges.
Hans, however, with my permission, armed himself with the little Purdey
piece that was named “Intombi,” the singe-barrelled, muzzle-loading gun
which had done me so much service in earlier days, and even on my last
journey to Pongoland. He said that he was accustomed to it and did not
understand these new-fangled breechloaders, also that it was “lucky.” I
consented as I did not think that it made much difference with what
kind of rifle Hans was provided. As a marksman he had this peculiarity:
up to a hundred yards or so he was an excellent shot, but beyond that
distance no good at all.
A quarter of an hour later, as the dawn was breaking, we passed through
a kind of _nek_ of rough stones bordering the flat land, and emerged
into a compact body on to the edge of the grassy plain. Here the word
was given to halt for a reason that became clear to me so soon as I was
out of the rocks. For there, marching rapidly, not half a mile away,
were some five hundred white-robed men. A large proportion of these
were mounted, the best being foot-soldiers, of whom more were running
up every minute, appearing out of bush that grew upon the hill-side,
apparently to dispute our passage. These people, who were black-faced
with fuzzy hair upon which they wore no head-dress, all seemed to be
armed with spears.
Presently from out of the mass of them two horsemen dashed forward, one
of whom bore a white flag in token that they came to parley. Our
advance guard allowed them to pass and they galloped on, dodging in and
out between the camels with wonderful skill till at length they came to
where we were with Harût and Marût, and pulling up their horses so
sharply that the animals almost sat down on their haunches, saluted by
raising their spears. They were very fine-looking fellows, perfectly
black in colour with a negroid cast of countenance and long frizzled
hair which hung down on to their shoulders. Their clothing was light,
consisting of hide riding breeches that resembled bathing drawers,
sandals, and an arrangement of triple chains which seemed to be made of
some silvery metal that hung from their necks across the breast and
back. Their arms consisted of a long lance similar to that carried by
the White Kendah, and a straight, cross-handled sword suspended from a
belt. This, as I ascertained afterwards, was the regulation cavalry
equipment among these people. The footmen carried a shorter spear, a
round leather shield, two throwing javelins or assegais, and a curved
knife with a horn handle.
“Greeting, Prophets of the Child!” cried one of them. “We are
messengers from the god Jana who speaks through the mouth of Simba the
King.”
“Say on, worshippers of the devil Jana. What word has Simba the King
for us?” answered Harût.
“The word of war, Prophet. What do you beyond your southern boundary of
the Tava river in the territory of the Black Kendah, that was sealed to
them by pact after the battle of a hundred years ago? Is not all the
land to the north as far as the mountains and beyond the mountains
enough for you? Simba the King let you go out, hoping that the desert
would swallow you, but return you shall not.”
“That we shall know presently,” replied Harût in a suave voice. “It
depends upon whether the Heavenly Child or the devil Jana is the more
powerful in the land. Still, as we would avoid bloodshed if we may, we
desire to explain to you, messengers of King Simba, that we are here
upon a peaceful errand. It was necessary that we should convey the
white lords to make an offering to the Child, and this was the only
road by which we could lead them to the Holy Mount, since they come
from the south. Through the forests and the swamps that lie to the east
and west camels cannot travel.”
“And what is the offering that the white men would make to the Child,
Prophet? Oh! we know well, for like you we have our magic. The offering
that they must make is the blood of Jana our god, which you have
brought them here to kill with their strange weapons, as though any
weapon could prevail against Jana the god. Now, give to us these white
men that we may offer them to the god, and perchance Simba the King
will let you go through.”
“Why?” asked Harût, “seeing that you declare that the white men cannot
harm Jana, to whom indeed they wish no harm. To surrender them to you
that they may be torn to pieces by the devil Jana would be to break the
law of hospitality, for they are our guests. Now return to Simba the
King, and say to Simba that if he lifts a spear against us the
threefold curse of the Child shall fall upon him and upon you his
people: The curse of Heaven by storm or by drought. The curse of
famine. The curse of war. I the prophet have spoken. Depart.”
Watching, I could see that this ultimatum delivered by Harût in a most
impressive voice, and seconded as it was by the sudden and simultaneous
lifting of the spears of all our escort that were within hearing,
produced a considerable effect upon the messengers. Their faces grew
afraid and they shrank a little. Evidently the “threefold curse of the
Child” suggested calamities which they dreaded. Making no answer, they
wheeled their horses about and galloped back to the force that was
gathering below as swiftly as they had come.
“We must fight, my Lord Macumazana,” said Harût, “and if we would live,
conquer, as I know that we shall do.”
Then he issued some orders, of which the result was that the caravan
adopted a wedge-shaped formation like to that of a great flock of
wildfowl on the wing. Harût stationed himself almost at the apex of the
triangle. I with Hans and Marût were about the centre of the line,
while Ragnall and Savage were placed opposite to us in the right line,
the whole width of the wedge being between us. The baggage camels and
their leaders occupied the middle space between the lines and were
followed by a small rear-guard.
At first we white men were inclined to protest at this separation, but
when Marût explained to us that its object was to give confidence to
the two divisions of the force and also to minimize the risk of
destruction or capture of all three of us, of course we had nothing
more to say. So we just shook hands, and with as much assurance as we
could command wished each other well through the job.
Then we parted, poor Savage looking very limp indeed, for this was his
first experience of war. Ragnall, however, who came of an old fighting
stock, seemed to be happy as a king. I who had known so many battles,
was the reverse of happy, for inconveniently enough there flashed into
my mind at this juncture the dying words of the Zulu captain and seer,
Mavovo, which foretold that I too should fall far away in war; and I
wondered whether this were the occasion that had been present to his
foreseeing mind.
Only Hans seemed quite unconcerned. Indeed I noted that he took the
opportunity of the halt to fill and light his large corn-cob pipe, a
bit of bravado in the face of Providence for which I could have kicked
him had he not been perched in his usual monkey fashion on the top of a
very tall camel. The act, however, excited the admiration of the
Kendah, for I heard one of them call to the others:
“Look! He is not a monkey after all, but a man—more of a man than his
master.”
The arrangements were soon made. Within a quarter of an hour of the
departure of the messengers Harût, after bowing thrice towards the Holy
Mountain, rose in his stirrups and shaking a long spear above his head,
shouted a single word:
“Charge!”