THE DWELLER IN THE CAVE
After this it seemed to me that I dreamed a long and very troubled
dream concerning all sorts of curious things which I cannot remember.
At last I opened my eyes and observed that I lay on a low bed raised
about three inches above the floor, in an Eastern-looking room, large
and cool. It had window-places in it but no windows, only grass mats
hung upon a rod which, I noted inconsequently, worked on a rough,
wooden hinge, or rather pin, that enabled the curtain to be turned back
against the wall.
Through one of these window-places I saw at a little distance the slope
of the forest-covered hill, which reminded me of something to do with a
child—for the life of me I could not remember what. As I lay wondering
over the matter I heard a shuffling step which I recognized, and,
turning, saw Hans twiddling a new hat made of straw in his fingers.
“Hans,” I said, “where did you get that new hat?”
“They gave it me here, Baas,” he answered. “The Baas will remember that
the devil Jana ate the other.”
Then I did remember more or less, while Hans continued to twiddle the
hat. I begged him to put it on his head because it fidgeted me, and
then inquired where we were.
“In the Town of the Child, Baas, where they carried you after you had
seemed to die down yonder. A very nice town, where there is plenty to
eat, though, having been asleep for three days, you have had nothing
except a little milk and soup, which was poured down your throat with a
spoon whenever you seemed to half wake up for a while.”
“I was tired and wanted a long rest, Hans, and now I feel hungry. Tell
me, are the lord and Bena here also, or were they killed after all?”
“Yes, Baas, they are safe enough, and so are all our goods. They were
both with Harût when he saved us down by the village yonder, but you
went to sleep and did not see them. They have been nursing you ever
since, Baas.”
Just then Savage himself entered, carrying some soup upon a wooden tray
and looking almost as smart as he used to do at Ragnall Castle.
“Good day, sir,” he said in his best professional manner. “Very glad to
see you back with us, sir, and getting well, I trust, especially after
we had given you and Mr. Hans up as dead.”
I thanked him and drank the soup, asking him to cook me something more
substantial as I was starving, which he departed to do. Then I sent
Hans to find Lord Ragnall, who it appeared was out walking in the town.
No sooner had they gone than Harût entered looking more dignified than
ever and, bowing gravely, seated himself upon the mat in the Eastern
fashion.
“Some strong spirit must go with you, Lord Macumazana,” he said, “that
you should live today, after we were sure that you had been slain.”
“That’s where you made a mistake. Your magic was not of much service to
you there, friend Harût.”
“Yet my magic, as you call it, though I have none, was of some service
after all, Macumazana. As it chanced I had no opportunity of breathing
in the wisdom of the Child for two days from the hour of our arrival
here, because I was hurt on the knee in the fight and so weary that I
could not travel up the mountain and seek light from the eyes of the
Child. On the third day, however, I went and the Oracle told me all.
Then I descended swiftly, gathered men and reached those fools in time
to keep you from harm. They have paid for what they did, Lord.”
“I am sorry, Harût, for they knew no better; and, Harût, although I
saved myself, or rather Hans saved me, we have left your brother
behind, and with him the others.”
“I know. Jana was too strong for them; you and your servant alone could
prevail against him.”
“Not so, Harût. He prevailed against us; all we could do was to injure
his eye and the tip of his trunk and escape from him.”
“Which is more than any others have done for many generations, Lord.
But doubtless as the beginning was, so shall the end be. Jana, I think,
is near his death and through you.”
“I don’t know,” I repeated. “Who and what is Jana?”
“Have I not told you that he is an evil spirit who inhabits the body of
a huge elephant?”
“Yes, and so did Marût; but I think that he is just a huge elephant
with a very bad temper of his own. Still, whatever he is, he will take
some killing, and I don’t want to meet him again by that horrible
lake.”
“Then you will meet him elsewhere, Lord. For if you do not go to look
for Jana, Jana will come to look for you who have hurt him so sorely.
Remember that henceforth, wherever you go in all this land, it may
happen that you will meet Jana.”
“Do you mean to say that the brute comes into the territory of the
White Kendah?”
“Yes, Macumazana, at times he comes, or a spirit wearing his shape
comes; I know not which. What I do know is that twice in my life I
myself have seen him upon the Holy Mount, though how he came or how he
went none can tell.”
“Why was he wandering there, Harût?”
“Who can say, Lord? Tell me why evil wanders through the world and I
will answer your question. Only I repeat—let those who have harmed Jana
beware of Jana.”
“And let Jana beware of me if I can meet him with a decent gun in my
hand, for I have a score to settle with the beast. Now, Harût, there is
another matter. Just before he was killed Marût, your brother, began to
tell me something about the wife of the Lord Ragnall. I had no time to
listen to the end of his words, though I thought he said that she was
upon yonder Holy Mount. Did I hear aright?”
Instantly Harût’s face became like that of a stone idol, impenetrable,
impassive.
“Either you misunderstood, Lord,” he answered, “or my brother raved in
his fear. Wherever she may be, that beautiful lady is not upon the Holy
Mount, unless there is another Holy Mount in the Land of Death.
Moreover, Lord, as we are speaking of this matter, let me tell you the
forest upon that Mount must be trodden by none save the priest of the
Child. If others set foot there they die, for it is watched by a
guardian more terrible even than Jana, nor is he the only one. Ask me
nothing of that guardian, for I will not answer, and, above all, if you
or your comrades value life, let them not seek to look upon him.”
Understanding that it was quite useless to pursue this subject farther
at the moment, I turned to another, remarking that the hailstorm which
had smitten the country of the Black Kendah was the worst that I had
ever experienced.
“Yes,” answered Harût, “so I have learned. That was the first of the
curses which the Child, through my mouth, promised to Simba and his
people if they molested us upon our road. The second, you will
remember, was famine, which for them is near at hand, seeing that they
have little corn in store and none left to gather, and that most of
their cattle are dead of the hail.”
“If they have no corn while, as I noted, you have plenty which the
storm spared, will not they, who are many in number but near to
starving, attack you and take your corn, Harût?”
“Certainly they will do so, Lord, and then will fall the third curse,
the curse of war. All this was foreseen long ago, Macumazana, and you
are here to help us in that war. Among your goods you have many guns
and much powder and lead. You shall teach our people how to use those
guns, that with them we may destroy the Black Kendah.”
“I think not,” I replied quietly. “I came here to kill a certain
elephant, and to receive payment for my service in ivory, not to fight
the Black Kendah, of whom I have already seen enough. Moreover, the
guns are not my property but that of the Lord Ragnall, who perhaps will
ask his own price for the use of them.”
“And the Lord Ragnall, who came here against our will, is, as it
chances, our property and we may ask your own price for his life. Now,
farewell for a while, since you, who are still sick and weak, have
talked enough. Only before I go, as your friend and that of those with
you, I will add one word. If you would continue to look upon the sun,
let none of you try to set foot in the forest upon the Holy Mount.
Wander where you will upon its southern slopes, but strive not to pass
the wall of rock which rings the forest round.”
Then he rose, bowed gravely and departed, leaving me full of
reflections.
Shortly afterwards Savage and Hans returned, bringing me some meat
which the former had cooked in an admirable fashion. I ate of it
heartily, and just as they were carrying off the remains of the meal
Ragnall himself arrived. Our greeting was very warm, as might be
expected in the case of two comrades who never thought to speak to each
other again on this side of the grave. As I had supposed, he was
certain that Hans and I had been cut off and killed by the Black
Kendah, as, after we were missed, some of the camelmen asserted that
they had actually seen us fall. So he went on, or rather was carried on
by the rush of the camels, grieving, since, it being impossible to
attempt to recover our bodies or even to return, that was the only
thing to do, and in due course reached the Town of the Child without
further accident. Here they rested and mourned for us, till some days
later Harût suddenly announced that we still lived, though how he knew
this they could not ascertain. Then they sallied out and found us, as
has been told, in great danger from the ignorant villagers who, until
we appeared, had not even heard of our existence.
I asked what they had done and what information they had obtained since
their arrival at this place. His answer was: Nothing and none worth
mentioning. The town appeared to be a small one of not much over two
thousand inhabitants, all of whom were engaged in agricultural pursuits
and in camel-breeding. The herds of camels, however, they gathered, for
the most part were kept at outlying settlements on the farther side of
the cone-shaped mountain. As they were unable to talk the language the
only person from whom they could gain knowledge was Harût, who spoke to
them in his broken English and told them much what he had told me,
namely that the upper mountain was a sacred place that might only be
visited by the priests, since any uninitiated person who set foot there
came to a bad end. They had not seen any of these priests in the town,
where no form of worship appeared to be practised, but they had
observed men driving small numbers of sheep or goats up the flanks of
the mountain towards the forest.
Of what went on upon this mountain and who lived there they remained in
complete ignorance. It was a case of stalemate. Harût would not tell
them anything nor could they learn anything for themselves. He added in
a depressed way that the whole business seemed very hopeless, and that
he had begun to doubt whether there was any tidings of his lost wife to
be gained among the Kendah, White or Black.
Now I repeated to him Marût’s dying words, of which most unhappily I
had never heard the end. These seemed to give him new life since they
showed that tidings there was of some sort, if only it could be
extracted. But how might this be done? How? How?
For a whole week things went on thus. During this time I recovered my
strength completely, except in one particular which reduced me to
helplessness. The place on my thigh where Jana had pinched out a bit of
the skin healed up well enough, but the inflammation struck inwards to
the nerve of my left leg, where once I had been injured by a lion, with
the result that whenever I tried to move I was tortured by pains of a
sciatic nature. So I was obliged to lie still and to content myself
with being carried on the bed into a little garden which surrounded the
mud-built and white-washed house that had been allotted to us as a
dwelling-place.
There I lay hour after hour, staring at the Holy Mount which began to
spring from the plain within a few hundred yards of the scattered
township. For a mile or so its slopes were bare except for grass on
which sheep and goats were grazed, and a few scattered trees. Studying
the place through glasses I observed that these slopes were crowned by
a vertical precipice of what looked like lava rock, which seemed to
surround the whole mountain and must have been quite a hundred feet
high. Beyond this precipice, which to all appearance was of an
unclimbable nature, began a dense forest of large trees, cedars I
thought, clothing it to the very top, that is so far as I could see.
One day when I was considering the place, Harût entered the garden
suddenly and caught me in the act.
“The House of the god is beautiful,” he said, “is it not?”
“Very,” I answered, “and of a strange formation. But how do those who
dwell on it climb that precipice?”
“It cannot be climbed,” he answered, “but there is a road which I am
about to travel who go to worship the Child. Yet I have told you,
Macumazana, that any strangers who seek to walk that road find death.
If they do not believe me, let them try,” he added meaningly.
Then, after many inquiries about my health, he informed me that news
had reached him to the effect that the Black Kendah were mad at the
loss of their crops which the hail had destroyed and because of the
near prospect of starvation.
“Then soon they will be wishing to reap yours with spears,” I said.
“That is so. Therefore, my Lord Macumazana, get well quickly that you
may be able to scare away these crows with guns, for in fourteen days
the harvest should begin upon our uplands. Farewell and have no fears,
for during my absence my people will feed and watch you and on the
third night I shall return again.”
After Harût’s departure a deep depression fell upon all of us. Even
Hans was depressed, while Savage became like a man under sentence of
execution at a near but uncertain date. I tried to cheer him up and
asked him what was the matter.
“I don’t know, Mr. Quatermain,” he answered, “but the fact is this is a
‘ateful and un’oly ‘ole” (in his agitation he quite lost grip of his
h’s, which was always weak), “and I am sure that it is the last I shall
ever see, except one.”
“Well, Savage,” I said jokingly, “at any rate there don’t seem to be
any snakes here.”
“No, Mr. Quatermain. That is, I haven’t met any, but they crawl about
me all night, and whenever I see that prophet man he talks of them to
me. Yes, he talks of them and nothing else with a sort of cold look in
his eyes that makes my back creep. I wish it was over, I do, who shall
never see old England again,” and he went away, I think to hide his
very painful and evident emotion.
That evening Hans returned from an expedition on which I had sent him
with instructions to try to get round the mountain and report what was
on its other side. It had been a complete failure, as after he had gone
a few miles men appeared who ordered him back. They were so threatening
in their demeanour that had it not been for the little rifle, Intombi,
which he carried under pretence of shooting buck, a weapon that they
regarded with great awe, they would, he thought, have killed him. He
added that he had been quite unsuccessful in his efforts to collect any
news of value from man, woman or child, all of whom, although very
polite, appeared to have orders to tell him nothing, concluding with
the remark that he considered the White Kendah bigger devils than the
Black Kendah, inasmuch as they were more clever.
Shortly after this abortive attempt we debated our position with
earnestness and came to a certain conclusion, of which I will speak in
its place.
If I remember right it was on this same night of our debate, after
Harût’s return from the mountain, that the first incident of interest
happened. There were two rooms in our house divided by a partition
which ran almost up to the roof. In the left-hand room slept Ragnall
and Savage, and in that to the right Hans and I. Just at the breaking
of dawn I was awakened by hearing some agitated conversation between
Savage and his master. A minute later they both entered my sleeping
place, and I saw in the faint light that Ragnall looked very disturbed
and Savage very frightened.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“We have seen my wife,” answered Ragnall.
I stared at him and he went on:
“Savage woke me by saying that there was someone in the room. I sat up
and looked and, as I live, Quatermain, standing gazing at me in such a
position that the light of dawn from the window-place fell upon her,
was my wife.”
“How was she dressed?” I asked at once.
“In a kind of white robe cut rather low, with her hair loose hanging to
her waist, but carefully combed and held outspread by what appeared to
be a bent piece of ivory about a foot and a half long, to which it was
fastened by a thread of gold.”
“Is that all?”
“No. Upon her breast was that necklace of red stones with the little
image hanging from its centre which those rascals gave her and she
always wore.”
“Anything more?”
“Yes. In her arms she carried what looked like a veiled child. It was
so still that I think it must have been dead.”
“Well. What happened?”
“I was so overcome I could not speak, and she stood gazing at me with
wide-opened eyes, looking more beautiful than I can tell you. She never
stirred, and her lips never moved—that I will swear. And yet both of us
heard her say, very low but quite clearly: ‘The mountain, George! Don’t
desert me. Seek me on the mountain, my dear, my husband.’”
“Well, what next?”
“I sprang up and she was gone. That’s all.”
“Now tell me what _you_ saw and heard, Savage.”
“What his lordship saw and heard, Mr. Quatermain, neither more nor
less. Except that I was awake, having had one of my bad dreams about
snakes, and saw her come through the door.”
“Through the door! Was it open then?”
“No, sir, it was shut and bolted. She just came through it as if it
wasn’t there. Then I called to his lordship after she had been looking
at him for half a minute or so, for I couldn’t speak at first. There’s
one more thing, or rather two. On her head was a little cap that looked
as though it had been made from the skin of a bird, with a gold snake
rising up in front, which snake was the first thing I caught sight of,
as of course it would be, sir. Also the dress she wore was so thin that
through it I could see her shape and the sandals on her feet, which
were fastened at the instep with studs of gold.”
“I saw no feather cap or snake,” said Ragnall.
“Then that’s the oddest part of the whole business,” I remarked. “Go
back to your room, both of you, and if you see anything more, call me.
I want to think things over.”
They went, in a bewildered sort of fashion, and I called Hans and spoke
with him in a whisper, repeating to him the little that he had not
understood of our talk, for as I have said, although he never spoke it,
Hans knew a great deal of English.
“Now, Hans,” I said to him, “what is the use of you? You are no better
than a fraud. You pretend to be the best watchdog in Africa, and yet a
woman comes into this house under your nose and in the grey of the
morning, and you do not see her. Where is your reputation, Hans?”
The old fellow grew almost speechless with indignation, then he
spluttered his answer:
“It was not a woman, Baas, but a spook. Who am I that I should be
expected to catch spooks as though they were thieves or rats? As it
happens I was wide awake half an hour before the dawn and lay with my
eyes fixed upon that door, which I bolted myself last night. It never
opened, Baas; moreover, since this talk began I have been to look at
it. During the night a spider has made its web from door-post to
door-post, and that web is unbroken. If you do not believe me, come and
see for yourself. Yet they say the woman came through the doorway and
therefore through the spider’s web. Oh! Baas, what is the use of
wasting thought upon the ways of spooks which, like the wind, come and
go as they will, especially in this haunted land from which, as we have
all agreed, we should do well to get away.”
I went and examined the door for myself, for by now my sciatica, or
whatever it may have been, was so much better that I could walk a
little. What Hans said was true. There was the spider’s web with the
spider sitting in the middle. Also some of the threads of the web were
fixed from post to post, so that it was impossible that the door could
have been opened or, if opened, that anyone could have passed through
the doorway without breaking them. Therefore, unless the woman came
through one of the little window-places, which was almost incredible as
they were high above the ground, or dropped from the smoke-hole in the
roof, or had been shut into the place when the door was closed on the
previous night, I could not see how she had arrived there. And if any
one of these incredible suppositions was correct, then how did she get
out again with two men watching her?
There were only two solutions to the problem—namely, that the whole
occurrence was hallucination, or that, in fact, Ragnall and Savage had
seen something unnatural and uncanny. If the latter were correct I only
wished that I had shared the experience, as I have always longed to see
a ghost. A real, indisputable ghost would be a great support to our
doubting minds, that is if we _knew_ its owner to be dead.
But—this was another thought—if by any chance Lady Ragnall were still
alive and a prisoner upon that mountain, what they had seen was no
ghost, but a shadow or _simulacrum_ of a living person projected
consciously or unconsciously by that person for some unknown purpose.
What could the purpose be? As it chanced the answer was not difficult,
and to it the words she was reported to have uttered gave a cue. Only a
few hours ago, just before we turned in indeed, as I have said, we had
been discussing matters. What I have not said is that in the end we
arrived at the conclusion that our quest here was wild and useless and
that we should do well to try to escape from the place before we became
involved in a war of extermination between two branches of an obscure
tribe, one of which was quite and the other semi-savage.
Indeed, although Ragnall still hung back a little, it had been arranged
that I should try to purchase camels in exchange for guns, unless I
could get them for nothing which might be less suspicious, and that we
should attempt such an escape under cover of an expedition to kill the
elephant Jana.
Supposing such a vision to be possible, then might it not have come, or
been sent to deter us from this plan? It would seem so.
Thus reflecting I went to sleep worn out with useless wonderment, and
did not wake again till breakfast time. That morning, when we were
alone together, Ragnall said to me:
“I have been thinking over what happened, or seemed to happen last
night. I am not at all a superstitious man, or one given to vain
imaginings, but I am sure that Savage and I really did see and hear the
spirit or the shadow of my wife. Her body it could not have been as you
will admit, though how she could utter, or seem to utter, audible
speech without one is more than I can tell. Also I am sure that she is
captive upon yonder mountain and came to call me to rescue her. Under
these circumstances I feel that it is my duty, as well as my desire, to
give up any idea of leaving the country and try to find out the truth.”
“And how will you do that,” I asked, “seeing that no one will tell us
anything?”
“By going to see for myself.”
“It is impossible, Ragnall. I am too lame at present to walk half a
mile, much less to climb precipices.”
“I know, and that is one of the reasons why I did not suggest that you
should accompany me. The other is that there is no object in all of us
risking our lives. I wished to face the thing alone, but that good
fellow Savage says that he will go where I go, leaving you and Hans
here to make further attempts if we do not return. Our plan is to slip
out of the town during the night, wearing white dresses like the
Kendah, of which I have bought some for tobacco, and make the best of
our way up the slope by starlight that is very bright now. When dawn
comes we will try to find the road through that precipice, or over it,
and for the rest trust to Providence.”
Dismayed at this intelligence, I did all I could to dissuade him from
such a mad venture, but quite without avail, for never did I know a
more determined or more fearless man than Lord Ragnall. He had made up
his mind and there was an end of the matter. Afterwards I talked with
Savage, pointing out to him all the perils involved in the attempt, but
likewise without avail. He was more depressed than usual, apparently on
the ground that “having seen the ghost of her ladyship” he was sure he
had not long to live. Still, he declared that where his master went he
would go, as he preferred to die with him rather than alone.
So I was obliged to give in and with a melancholy heart to do what I
could to help in the simple preparations for this crazy undertaking,
realizing all the while that the only real help must come from above,
since in such a case man was powerless. I should add that after
consultation, Ragnall gave up the idea of adopting a Kendah disguise
which was certain to be discovered, also of starting at night when the
town was guarded.
That very afternoon they went, going out of the town quite openly on
the pretext of shooting partridges and small buck on the lower slopes
of the mountain, where both were numerous, as Harût had informed us we
were quite at liberty to do. The farewell was somewhat sad, especially
with Savage, who gave me a letter he had written for his old mother in
England, requesting me to post it if ever again I came to a civilized
land.
I did my best to put a better spirit in him but without avail. He only
wrung my hand warmly, said that it was a pleasure to have known such a
“real gentleman” as myself, and expressed a hope that I might get out
of this hell and live to a green old age amongst Christians. Then he
wiped away a tear with the cuff of his coat, touched his hat in the
orthodox fashion and departed. Their outfit, I should add, was very
simple: some food in bags, a flask of spirits, two double-barrelled
guns that would shoot either shot or ball, a bull’s-eye lantern,
matches and their pistols.
Hans walked with them a little way and, leaving them outside the town,
returned.
“Why do you look so gloomy, Hans?” I asked.
“Because, Baas,” he answered, twiddling his hat, “I had grown to be
fond of the white man, Bena, who was always very kind to me and did not
treat me like dirt as low-born whites are apt to do. Also he cooked
well, and now I shall have to do that work which I do not like.”
“What do you mean, Hans? The man isn’t dead, is he?”
“No, Baas, but soon he will be, for the shadow of death is in his
eyes.”
“Then how about Lord Ragnall?”
“I saw no shadow in his eyes; I think that he will live, Baas.”
I tried to get some explanation of these dark sayings out of the
Hottentot, but he would add nothing to his words.
All the following night I lay awake filled with heavy fears which
deepened as the hours went on. Just before dawn we heard a knocking on
our door and Ragnall’s voice whispering to us to open. Hans did so
while I lit a candle, of which we had a good supply. As it burned up
Ragnall entered, and from his face I saw at once that something
terrible had happened. He went to the jar where we kept our water and
drank three pannikin-fuls, one after the other. Then without waiting to
be asked, he said:
“Savage is dead,” and paused a while as though some awful recollection
overcame him. “Listen,” he went on presently. “We worked up the
hill-side without firing, although we saw plenty of partridges and one
buck, till just as twilight was closing in, we came to the cliff face.
Here we perceived a track that ran to the mouth of a narrow cave or
tunnel in the lava rock of the precipice, which looked quite
unclimbable. While we were wondering what to do, eight or ten
white-robed men appeared out of the shadows and seized us before we
could make any resistance. After talking together for a little they
took away our guns and pistols, with which some of them disappeared.
Then their leader, with many bows, indicated that we were at liberty to
proceed by pointing first to the mouth of the cave, and next to the top
of the precipice, saying something about ‘_ingane_,’ which I believe
means a little child, does it not?”
I nodded, and he went on:
“After this they all departed down the hill, smiling in a fashion that
disturbed me. We stood for a while irresolute, until it became quite
dark. I asked Savage what he thought we had better do, expecting that
he would say ‘Return to the town.’ To my surprise, he answered:
“‘Go on, of course, my lord. Don’t let those brutes say that we white
men daren’t walk a step without our guns. Indeed, in any case I mean to
go on, even if your lordship won’t.’
“Whilst he spoke he took a bull’s-eye lantern from his foodbag, which
had not been interfered with by the Kendah, and lit it. I stared at him
amazed, for the man seemed to be animated by some tremendous purpose.
Or rather it was as though a force from without had got hold of his
will and were pushing him on to an unknown end. Indeed his next words
showed that this was so, for he exclaimed:
“‘There is something drawing me into that cave, my lord. It may be
death; I think it is death, but whatever it be, go I must. Perhaps you
would do well to stop outside till I have seen.’
“I stepped forward to catch hold of the man, who I thought had gone
mad, as perhaps was the case. Before I could lay my hands on him he had
run rapidly to the mouth of the cave. Of course I followed, but when I
reached its entrance the star of light thrown forward by the bull’s-eye
lantern showed me that he was already about eight yards down the
tunnel. Then I heard a terrible hissing noise and Savage exclaiming:
‘Oh! my God!’ twice over. As he spoke the lantern fell from his hand,
but did not go out, because, as you know, it is made to burn in any
position. I leapt forward and picked it from the ground, and while I
was doing so became aware that Savage was running still farther into
the depths of the cave. I lifted the lantern above my head and looked.
“This was what I saw: About ten paces from me was Savage with his arms
outstretched and dancing—yes, dancing—first to the right and then to
the left, with a kind of horrible grace and to the tune of a hideous
hissing music. I held the lantern higher and perceived that beyond him,
lifted eight or nine feet into the air, nearly to the roof of the
tunnel in fact, was the head of the hugest snake of which I have ever
heard. It was as broad as the bottom of a wheelbarrow—were it cut off I
think it would fill a large wheelbarrow—while the neck upon which it
was supported was quite as thick as my middle, and the undulating body
behind it, which stretched far away into the darkness, was the size of
an eighteen-gallon cask and glittered green and grey, lined and
splashed with silver and with gold.
“It hissed and swayed its great head to the right, holding Savage with
cold eyes that yet seemed to be on fire, whereon he danced to the
right. It hissed again and swayed its head to the left, whereon he
danced to the left. Then suddenly it reared its head right to the top
of the cave and so remained for a few seconds, whereon Savage stood
still, bending a little forward, as though he were bowing to the
reptile. Next instant, like a flash it struck, for I saw its white
fangs bury themselves in the back of Savage, who with a kind of sigh
fell forward on to his face. Then there was a convulsion of those
shining folds, followed by a sound as of bones being ground up in a
steam-driven mortar.
“I staggered against the wall of the cave and shut my eyes for a
moment, for I felt faint. When I opened them again it was to see
something flat, misshapen, elongated like a reflection in a spoon,
something that had been Savage lying on the floor, and stretched out
over it the huge serpent studying me with its steely eyes. Then I ran;
I am not ashamed to say I ran out of that horrible hole and far into
the night.”
“Small blame to you,” I said, adding: “Hans, give me some square-face
neat.” For I felt as queer as though I also had been in that cave with
its guardian.
“There is very little more to tell,” went on Ragnall after I had drunk
the hollands. “I lost my way on the mountain-side and wandered for many
hours, till at last I blundered up against one of the outermost houses
of the town, after which things were easy. Perhaps I should add that
wherever I went on my way down the mountain it seemed to me that I
heard people laughing at me in an unnatural kind of voice. That’s all.”
After this we sat silent for a long while, till at length Hans said in
his unmoved tone:
“The light has come, Baas. Shall I blow out the candle, which it is a
pity to waste? Also, does the Baas wish me to cook the breakfast, now
that the snake devil is making his off Bena, as I hope to make mine off
him before all is done. Snakes are very good to eat, Baas, if you know
how to dress them in the Hottentot way.”