The Ghost Kings
H >>
H. Rider Haggard >> The Ghost Kings
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 | 7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26
Now when Mr. Dove had received this message, one evening at sundown, he
went into the house and repeated it to Rachel, for it puzzled him much,
and he knew not what to answer.
Rachel in her turn took counsel with Noie who was hidden, away lest some
of the embassy should see and recognise her.
"Speak with the messengers," said Noie, "it is well to have power among
the Zulus. I, who have some knowledge of this business, say, speak with
them alone, and speak softly, saying that one day you will come."
So having explained the matter to her father, and obtained his consent,
Rachel, who desired to impress these savages, threw a white shawl about
her, as Noie instructed her to do. Then, letting her long, golden hair
hang down, she went out alone carrying a light assegai in her hand, to the
place where the messengers, six of them, and those who had driven the
cattle from Zululand, were encamped in the guest kraal, at the gate of
which, as it chanced, lay a great boulder of rock. On this boulder she
took her stand, unobserved, waiting there till the full moon shone out
from behind a dark cloud, turning her white robe to silver. Now of a
sudden the messengers who were seated together, talking and taking snuff,
looked up and saw her.
"_Inkosazana-y-Zoola_!" exclaimed one of them, rising, whereon they all
sprang to their feet and perceiving this beautiful and mysterious figure,
by a common impulse lifted their right arms and gave to her what no woman
had ever received before--the royal salute.
"Bayete!" they cried, "Bayete!" then stood silent.
"I hear you," said Rachel, who spoke their tongue as well as she did her
own. "It has been reported to me that you wished to see me, O Mouths of
the King. Behold I am pleased to appear before you. What would you of
Inkosazana-y-Zoola, O Mouths of the King?"
Then their spokesman, an old man of high rank, with a withered hand,
stepped forward from the line of his companions, stared at her for a
while, and saluted again.
"Lady," he said humbly, "Lady or Spirit, we would know how thou earnest by
that great name of thine."
"It was given me as a child far away from here," she answered, "because in
a mighty tempest the lightnings turned aside and smote me not; because the
waters raged yet drowned me not; because the lions slept with me yet
harmed me not. It came to me from the high Heaven that was my friend. I do
not know how it came."
"We have heard the story," answered the old man (which indeed they had
with many additions), "and we believe. We believe that the Heavens above
gave thee their own name which is the name of the Spirit of our people.
That Spirit I have seen in a dream, and she was like to thee, O
Inkosazana-y-Zoola."
"It may be so, Mouth of the King, still I am woman, not spirit."
"Yet in every woman there dwells a spirit, or so we believe, and in thee a
great one, or so we have heard and believe, O Lady of the Heavens. To
thee, then, again we repeat the words of Dingaan and of his council which
to-day we have said in the ears of him who thinks himself thy father. To
thee the roads are open; thine are the cattle and the kraals; here is an
earnest of them. Thine are the lives of men. Command now, if thou wilt,
that one of us be slain before thee, and whilst thou watchest, he shall
look his last upon the moon."
"I hear you," said Rachel, quietly, "but I seek the life of none who are
good. I thank the King for his gift; I wish the King well. I remember that
life and death lie in my hands. Say these words to the King."
"We will say them, but wilt thou not come, O Lady, as the King desires? A
regiment shall meet thee on the river bank and lead thee to his house.
Unharmed shalt thou come, unharmed shalt thou return, and what thou askest
that shall be given thee."
"One day, perchance, I will come, but not now. Go in peace, O Mouths of
the King."
As she spoke another dark cloud floated across the moon, and when it had
passed away she stood no more upon the rock. Then, seeing that she was
gone, those messengers gathered up their spears and mats, and returned
swiftly to Zululand.
When she readied the house again Rachel told her father and mother all
that had passed, laughing as she spoke.
"It seems scarcely right, my dear," said Mr. Dove, when she had done.
"Those benighted heathens will really believe that you are something
unearthly."
"Then let them," she answered. "It can do no one any harm, and the power
of life and death with the rest of it, unless it was all talk as I
suspect, might be very useful one day. Who knows? And now the Princess of
the Heavens will go and set the supper, as Noie--I beg pardon, Nonha--is
off duty for the present."
Afterwards she asked Noie who was the old man with a withered hand who had
spoken as the "King's Mouth."
"Mopo is his name, Mopo or Umbopo, none other, O Zoola," she answered. "It
was he who stabbed T'Chaka, the Black One. It is said also that alone
among men living, he has seen the White Spirit: the Inkosazana. Thrice he
has seen her, or so goes the tale that my father, who knew everything,
told to me. That is why Dingaan sent him here to make report of you." And
she told her all the wonderful story of Mopo and of the death of T'Chaka,
which Rachel treasured in her mind. [Footnote: For the history of Mopo,
see "Nada the Lily."--AUTHOR.]
Such was Rachel's first introduction to the Zulus, an occasion on which
her undoubted histrionic abilities stood her in good stead.
This matter of the embassy happened and in due course was almost
forgotten, that is until a certain event occurred which brought it into
mind. For some time, however, Rachel thought of it a good deal, wondering
how it came about that her native name and the strange significance which
they appeared to give to it had taken such a hold of the imagination of
the Zulus. Ultimately she discovered that the white man, Ishmael, was the
chief cause of these things. He had lived so long among savages that he
had caught something of their mind and dark superstitions. To him, as to
them, it seemed a marvellous thing that she should have acquired the title
of the legendary Spirit of the Zulu people. The calm courage, too, so
unusual in a woman, which she showed when she shot the warrior, and at the
risk of her own life saved that of the girl, Noie, impressed him as
something almost ultra-human, especially when he remembered his own
conduct on that occasion. All of this story, of course, he did not tell to
the Zulus for he feared lest they should take vengeance for his share in
it. But of Rachel he discoursed to the King and his _indunas_, or great
men, as a white witch-doctoress of super-natural power, whose name showed
that she was mixed up with the fortunes of the race. Therefore, in the
end, Dingaan sent Mopo, "he who knew the Spirit," to make report of her.
When he was not absent upon his hunting or trading expeditions, Ishmael
visited Ramah a great deal and, as Rachel soon discovered, not without an
object. Indeed, almost from the first, her feminine instincts led her to
suspect that this man who, notwithstanding his good looks, repelled her so
intensely, was falling in love with her, which in truth he had done once
and for all at their first meeting. In the beginning he did not, it is
true, say much that could be so interpreted, but his whole attitude
towards her suggested it, as did other things. For instance, when he came
to visit the Doves, he discarded his garments of hide, including the
picturesque zebra-skin trousers, and appeared dressed in smart European
clothes which he had contrived to obtain from Durban, and a large hat with
a white ostrich feather, that struck Rachel as even more ludicrous than
the famous trousers. Also he was continuously sending presents of game and
of skins, or of rare karosses, that is, fur rugs, which he ordered to be
delivered to her personally--tokens, all of them, that she could not
misunderstand. Her father, however, misunderstood them persistently,
although her mother saw something of the truth, and did her best to shield
her from attentions which she knew to be unwelcome. Mr. Dove believed that
it was his company which Ishmael sought. Indeed in this matter the man was
very clever, contriving to give the clergyman the impression that he
required spiritual instruction and comfort, which, of course, he found
forthcoming in an abundant supply. When Mrs. Dove remonstrated, saying
that she misdoubted her of him and his character, her husband answered
obstinately, that it was his duty to turn a sinner from his way, and
declined to pursue the conversation. So Ishmael continued to come.
For her part Rachel did her best to avoid him, instructing Noie to keep a
constant look-out both with her eyes and through the Kaffirs, and to warn
her of his advent. Then she would slip away into the bush or down to the
seashore, and remain there till he was gone, or if he came when she could
not do so, in the evening for instance, would keep Noie at her side, and
on the first opportunity retire to her own room.
Now the result of this method of self-protection was to cause Ishmael to
hate Noie as bitterly as she hated him. He guessed that the girl knew the
dreadful truth about him; that it was he, and no other, who had counselled
Dingaan to kill her father and all his family, and take her by force into
his house, and although she said nothing of it, he suspected that she had
told everything to Rachel. Moreover, it was she who always thwarted him,
who prevented him time upon time from having a single word alone with her
mistress. Therefore he determined to be revenged upon Noie whenever an
opportunity occurred.
But as yet he could find none, since if he were to tell the Zulus that
she still lived, and cause her to be killed or taken away, he was sure
that it would mean a final breach with the Dove family, all of whom had
learned to love this beautiful orphan maid. So he nursed his rage in
secret.
Meanwhile his passion increased daily, burning ever more fiercely for its
continued repression, until at length the chance for which he had waited
so long came to him.
Having become aware of Rachel's habit of slipping away whenever he
appeared, he showed himself on horseback at a little distance, then waited
a while and, instead of going up to the mission station, rode round it,
and hid in some bush whence he could command a view of the surrounding
country. Presently he saw Rachel, who was alone, for she had not waited to
call Noie, hurrying towards the seashore, along the edge of that kloof
down which ran the stream where the crocodiles lived. Presently, when she
had gone too far to return to the house if she caught sight of him, he
followed after her, and, leaving his horse, at last came up with her
seated on a rock by the pool in which she had bathed on the morning of the
massacre.
Walking softly in his veld-schoens, or shoes made of raw hide, on the
sand, Rachel knew nothing of his coming until his shadow fell upon her.
Then she sprang up and saw him, smiling and bowing, the ostrich-plume hat
in his hand. Her first impulse was to run away, but recovering herself she
nodded in a friendly fashion, and bade him "Good day," adding:
"What are you doing here, Mr. Ishmael, hunting?"
"Yes," he answered, "that's it. Hunting you. It has been a long chase, but
I have caught you at last."
"Really, I am not a wild creature, Mr. Ishmael," she said indignantly.
"No," he answered, "you are more beautiful and more dangerous than any
wild creature."
Rachel looked at him. Then she made, as though she would pass him, saying
that she was going home. Now Ishmael stood between two rocks filling the
only egress from this place.
He stretched out his arms so that his fingers touched the rocks on either
side, and said:
"You can't. You must listen to me first. I came here to say what I have
wanted to tell you for a long time. I love you, and I ask you to marry
me."
"Indeed," she replied, setting her face. "How can that be? I understood
that you were already married--several times over."
"Who told you that?" he asked, angrily. "I know--that accursed little
witch, Noie."
"Don't speak any ill of Noie, please; she is my friend."
"Then you have a liar for your friend. Those women are only my servants."
"It doesn't matter to me what they are, Mr. Ishmael. I have no wish to
know your private affairs. Shall we stop this talk, which is not
pleasant?"
"No," he answered. "I tell you that I love you and I mean to marry you,
with your will or without it. Let it be with your will, Rachel," he added,
pleadingly, "for I will make you a good husband. Also I am well-born, much
better than you think, and I am rich, rich enough to take you out of this
country, if you like. I have thousands of cattle, and a great deal of
money put by, good English gold that I have got from the sale of ivory.
You shall come with me from among all these savage people back to England,
and live as you like."
"Thank you, but I prefer the savages, as you seem to have done until now.
No, do not try to touch me; you know that I can defend myself if I
choose," and she glanced at the pistol which she always carried in that
wild land, "I am not afraid of you, Mr. Ishmael; it is you who are afraid
of me."
"Perhaps I am," he exclaimed, "because those Zulus are right, you are
_tagati_, an enchantress, not like other women, white or black. If it were
not so, would you have driven me mad as you have done? I tell you I can't
sleep for thinking of you. Oh! Rachel, Rachel, don't be angry with me.
Have pity on me. Give me some hope. I know that my life has been rough in
the past, but I will become good again for your sake and live like a
Christian. But if you refuse me, if you send me back to hell--then you
shall learn what I can be."
"I know what you are, Mr. Ishmael, and that is quite enough. I do not wish
to be unkind, or to say anything that will pain you, but please go away,
and never try to speak to me again like this, as it is quite useless. You
must understand that I will never marry you, never."
"Are you in love with somebody else?" he asked hoarsely, and at the
question, do what she would to prevent it, Rachel coloured a little.
"How can I be in love here, unless it were with a dream?"
"A dream, a dream of a man you mean. Well, don't let him cross my path, or
it will soon be the dream of a ghost. I tell you I'd kill him. If I can't
have you, no one else shall. Do you understand?"
"I understand that I am tired of this. Let me go home, please."
"Home! Soon you will have no home to go to except mine--that is, if you
don't change your mind about me. I have power here--don't you understand?
I have power."
As he spoke these words the man looked so evil that Rachel shivered a
little. But she answered boldly enough:
"I understand that you have no power at all against me; no one has. It is
I who have the power."
"Yes, because as I said, you are _tagati_, but there are others----"
As these words passed his lips someone slipped by him. Starting back, he
saw that it was Noie, draped in her usual white robe, for nothing would
induce her to wear European clothes. Passing him as though she saw him
not, she went to Rachel and said:
"Inkosazana, I was at my work in the house yonder and I thought that I
heard you calling me down here by the seashore, so I came. Is it your
pleasure that I should accompany you home?"
"For instance," he went on furiously, "there is that black slut whom you
are fond of. Well, if I can't hurt you, I can hurt her. Daughter of
Seyapi, you know how runaways die in Zululand, or if you don't you shall
soon learn. I will pay you back for all your tricks," and he stopped,
choking with rage.
Noie looked him up and down with her soft, dreamy brown eyes.
"Do you think so, Night-prowler?" she asked. "Do you think that what you
did to the father and his house, you will do to the daughter also? Well,
it is strange, but last night, just before the cock crew, I sat by
Seyapi's grave, and he spoke to me of you, White Man. Listen, now, and I
will tell you what he said," and stepping forward she whispered in his
ear.
Rachel, watching, saw the man's swarthy face turn pale as he hearkened,
then he lifted his hand as though to strike her, let it fall again, and
muttering curses in English and in Zulu, turned and walked, or rather
staggered away.
"What did you tell him, Noie?" asked Rachel.
"Never mind, Zoola," she answered. "Perhaps the truth; perhaps what came
into my mind. At any rate I frightened him away. He was making love to
you, was he not, the low _silwana _(wild beast)? Ah! I thought so, for
that he has wished to do for long. And he threatened, did he not? Well,
you are right; he cannot hurt you at all, and me only a little, I think.
But he is very dangerous and very strong, and can hurt others. If your
father is wise he will leave this place, Zoola."
"I think so too," answered Rachel. "Let us go home and tell him so."
CHAPTER VIII
MR. DOVE VISITS ISHMAEL
When Rachel and Noie reached the house, which they did not do for some
time, as they waited to make sure that Ishmael had really gone, it was to
see the man himself riding away from its gate.
"Be prepared," said Noie; "I think that he has been here before us to pour
poison into your father's ears."
So it proved to be, indeed, for on the stoep or verandah they found Mr.
Dove walking up and down evidently much disturbed in mind.
"What is all this trouble, Rachel?" he asked. "What have you done to Mr.
Smith"--for Mr. Dove in pursuance of the suggestion made by the man, had
adopted that name for him which he considered less peculiar than Ishmael.
"He has been here much upset, declaring that you have used him cruelly,
and that Nonha threatened him with terrible things in the future, of
which, of course, she can know nothing."
"Well, father, if you wish to hear," answered Rachel, "Mr. Ishmael, or Mr.
Smith as you call him, has been asking me to marry him, and when I
refused, as of course I did, behaved very unpleasantly."
"Indeed, Rachel. I gathered from him that something of the sort had
happened, only his story is that it was you who behaved unpleasantly,
speaking to him as though he were dirt. Now, Rachel, of course I do not
want you to marry this person, in fact, I should dislike it, although I
have seen a great change for the better in him lately--I mean spiritually,
of course--and an earnest repentance for the errors of his past life. All
I mean is that the proffered affection of an honest man should not be met
with scorn and sharp words."
Up to this point Rachel endured the lecture in silence, but now she could
bear no more.
"Honest man!" she exclaimed. "Father, are you deaf and blind, or only so
good yourself that you cannot see evil in others? Do you know that it was
this 'honest man' who brought about the murder of all Noie's people in
order that he might curry favour with the Zulus?"
Mr. Dove started, and turning, asked:
"Is that so, Nonha?"
"It is so, Teacher," answered Noie, "although I have never spoken of it to
you. Afterwards I will tell you the story, if you wish."
"And do you know," went on Rachel, "why he will never let you visit his
kraal among the hills yonder? Well, I will tell you. It is because this
'honest man,' who wishes me to marry him, keeps his Kaffir wives and
children there!"
"Rachel!" replied her father, in much distress, "I will never believe it;
you are only repeating native scandal. Why, he has often spoken to me with
horror of such things."
"I daresay he has, father. Well, now, I ask you to judge for yourself.
Take a guide and start two hours before daybreak to-morrow morning to
visit that kraal, and see if what I say is not true."
"I will, indeed," exclaimed Mr. Dove, who was now thoroughly aroused, for
it was conduct of this sort that had caused his bitter quarrel with the
first settlers in Natal. "I cannot believe the story, Rachel, I really
cannot; but I promise you that if I should find cause to do so, the man
shall never put foot in my house again."
"Then I think that I am rid of him," said Rachel, with a sigh of relief,
"only be careful, dear, that he does not do you a mischief, for such men
do not like to be found out." Then she left the stoep, and went to tell
her mother all that had happened.
When she had heard the story, Mrs. Dove, who detested Ishmael as much as
her daughter did, tried to persuade her husband not to visit his kraal,
saying that it would only breed a feud, and that under the circumstances,
it would be easy to forbid him the house upon other grounds. But Mr. Dove,
obstinate as usual, refused to listen to her, saying that he would not
judge the man without evidence, and that of the natives could not be
relied on. Also, if the tale were true, it was his duty as his spiritual
adviser to remonstrate with him.
So his poor wife gave up arguing, as she always did, and long before dawn
on the following morning, Mr. Dove, accompanied by two guides, departed
upon his errand.
After he had ridden some twelve miles across the plain which lay behind
Ramah, just at daybreak, he reached a pass or nek between two swelling
hills, beyond which the guides said lay the kraal that was called Mafooti.
Presently he saw it, a place situated in a cup-like valley, chosen
evidently because the approaches to it were easy to defend. On a knoll in
the centre of this rich valley stood the kraal, a small native town
surrounded by walls, and stone enclosures full of cattle. As they
approached the kraal, from its main entrance issued four or five
good-looking native women, one of them accompanied by a boy, and all
carrying hoes in their hands, for they were going out at sunrise to work
in the mealie fields. When they saw Mr. Dove they stood still, staring at
him, till he called to them not to be afraid, and riding up, asked them
who they were.
"We are of the number of the wives of Ibubesi, the Lion," answered their
spokeswoman, who held the little boy by the hand.
"Do you mean the _Umlungu_ (that is, the white man), Ishmael?" he asked
again.
"Whom else should we mean?" she answered. "I am his head wife, now that he
has put away old Mami, and this is his son. If the light were stronger you
would see that he is almost white," she added, with pride.
Mr. Dove knew not what to answer; this intelligence overwhelmed him, and
he sat silent on his horse. The wives of Ishmael prepared to pass on to
the mealie fields, then stopped, and began to whisper together. At length
the mother of the boy turned and addressed him, while the others crowded
behind her to listen.
"We desire to ask you a question, Teacher," she said, somewhat shyly, for
evidently they knew well enough who he was. "Is it true that we are to
have a new sister?"
"A new sister! What do you mean?" asked Mr. Dove.
"We mean, Teacher," she replied smiling, "that we have heard that Ibubesi
is courting the beautiful Zoola, the daughter of your head wife, and we
thought that perhaps you had come to arrange about the cattle that he must
pay for her. Doubtless if she is so fair, it will be a whole herd."
This was too much, even for Mr. Dove.
"How dare you talk so, you heathen hussies?" he gasped. "Where is the
white man?"
"Teacher," she replied with indignation, and drawing herself up, "why do
you call us bad names? We are respectable women, the wives of one husband,
as respectable as your own, although not so numerous, or so we hear from
Ibubesi. If you desire to see him, he is in the big hut, yonder, with our
youngest sister, she whom he married last month. We wish you good day, as
we go to hoe our lord's fields, and we hope that when she comes, the
Inkosazana, your daughter, will not be as rude as you are, for if so, how
shall we love her as we wish to do?" Then wrapping her blanket round her
with a dignified air, the offended lady stalked off, followed by her
various "sisters."
As for Mr. Dove, who for once in his life was in a towering rage, he cut
his horse viciously with the sjambok, or hippopotamus-hide whip, which he
carried, and followed by his guides, galloped forward to a big hut in the
centre of the kraal.
Apparently Ishmael heard the sound of his horse's hoofs, for as the
missionary was dismounting he crawled out of the bee-hole of the hut upon
his hands and knees, as a Kaffir does, followed by a young woman in the
lightest of attire, who was yawning as though she had just been aroused
from sleep. What is more, except for the colour of his skin, he _was_ a
Kaffir and nothing else, for his costume consisted of a skin moocha such
as the natives wear, and a fur kaross thrown over his shoulders.
Straightening himself, Ishmael saw for the first time who was his visitor.
His jaw dropped, and he uttered an ejaculation that need not be recorded,
then stood silent. Mr. Dove was silent also; for his wrath would not allow
him to speak.
"How do you do, sir?" Ishmael jerked out at last. "You are an early
visitor, and find me somewhat unprepared. If I had known that you were
coming I would"--then suddenly he remembered his attire, or the lack of
it, also his companion who was leaning on his shoulder, and peeping at the
white man over it. Drawing the kaross tightly about him, he gave the poor
girl a backward kick, and with a Kaffir oath bade her begone, then went on
hurriedly: "I am afraid my dress is not quite what you are accustomed to,
but among these poor heathens I find it necessary to conform more or less
to their ways in order to gain their confidence and--um--affection. Will
you come into the hut? My servant there will get you some _tywala_ (Kaffir
beer)--I mean some _amasi_ (curdled milk) at once, and I will have a calf
killed for breakfast."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 | 7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26