King Solomon's Mines
a pointer dog when he scents game, and then with outstretched wand she
began to creep stealthily towards the soldiers before her. It seemed to
us that as she came their stoicism gave way, and that they shrank from
her. As for ourselves, we followed her movements with a horrible
fascination. Presently, still creeping and crouching like a dog, the
_Isanusi_ was before them. Then she halted and pointed, and again crept
on a pace or two.
Suddenly the end came. With a shriek she sprang in and touched a tall
warrior with her forked wand. Instantly two of his comrades, those
standing immediately next to him, seized the doomed man, each by one
arm, and advanced with him towards the king.
He did not resist, but we saw that he dragged his limbs as though they
were paralysed, and that his fingers, from which the spear had fallen,
were limp like those of a man newly dead.
As he came, two of the villainous executioners stepped forward to meet
him. Presently they met, and the executioners turned round, looking
towards the king as though for orders.
“_Kill!_” said the king.
“_Kill!_” squeaked Gagool.
“_Kill!_” re-echoed Scragga, with a hollow chuckle.
Almost before the words were uttered the horrible deed was done. One
man had driven his spear into the victim’s heart, and to make assurance
double sure, the other had dashed out his brains with a great club.
“_One_,” counted Twala the king, just like a black Madame Defarge, as
Good said, and the body was dragged a few paces away and stretched out.
Hardly was the thing done before another poor wretch was brought up,
like an ox to the slaughter. This time we could see, from the
leopard-skin cloak which he wore, that the man was a person of rank.
Again the awful syllables were spoken, and the victim fell dead.
“_Two_,” counted the king.
And so the deadly game went on, till about a hundred bodies were
stretched in rows behind us. I have heard of the gladiatorial shows of
the Cæsars, and of the Spanish bull-fights, but I take the liberty of
doubting if either of them could be half so horrible as this Kukuana
witch-hunt. Gladiatorial shows and Spanish bull-fights at any rate
contributed to the public amusement, which certainly was not the case
here. The most confirmed sensation-monger would fight shy of sensation
if he knew that it was well on the cards that he would, in his own
proper person, be the subject of the next “event.”
Once we rose and tried to remonstrate, but were sternly repressed by
Twala.
“Let the law take its course, white men. These dogs are magicians and
evil-doers; it is well that they should die,” was the only answer
vouchsafed to us.
About half-past ten there was a pause. The witch-finders gathered
themselves together, apparently exhausted with their bloody work, and
we thought that the performance was done with. But it was not so, for
presently, to our surprise, the ancient woman, Gagool, rose from her
crouching position, and supporting herself with a stick, staggered off
into the open space. It was an extraordinary sight to see this
frightful vulture-headed old creature, bent nearly double with extreme
age, gather strength by degrees, until at last she rushed about almost
as actively as her ill-omened pupils. To and fro she ran, chanting to
herself, till suddenly she made a dash at a tall man standing in front
of one of the regiments, and touched him. As she did this a sort of
groan went up from the regiment which evidently he commanded. But two
of its officers seized him all the same, and brought him up for
execution. We learned afterwards that he was a man of great wealth and
importance, being indeed a cousin of the king.
He was slain, and Twala counted one hundred and three. Then Gagool
again sprang to and fro, gradually drawing nearer and nearer to
ourselves.
“Hang me if I don’t believe she is going to try her games on us,”
ejaculated Good in horror.
“Nonsense!” said Sir Henry.
As for myself, when I saw that old fiend dancing nearer and nearer, my
heart positively sank into my boots. I glanced behind us at the long
rows of corpses, and shivered.
Nearer and nearer waltzed Gagool, looking for all the world like an
animated crooked stick or comma, her horrid eyes gleaming and glowing
with a most unholy lustre.
Nearer she came, and yet nearer, every creature in that vast assemblage
watching her movements with intense anxiety. At last she stood still
and pointed.
“Which is it to be?” asked Sir Henry to himself.
In a moment all doubts were at rest, for the old hag had rushed in and
touched Umbopa, alias Ignosi, on the shoulder.
“I smell him out,” she shrieked. “Kill him, kill him, he is full of
evil; kill him, the stranger, before blood flows from him. Slay him, O
king.”
There was a pause, of which I instantly took advantage.
“O king,” I called out, rising from my seat, “this man is the servant
of thy guests, he is their dog; whosoever sheds the blood of our dog
sheds our blood. By the sacred law of hospitality I claim protection
for him.”
“Gagool, mother of the witch-finders, has smelt him out; he must die,
white men,” was the sullen answer.
“Nay, he shall not die,” I replied; “he who tries to touch him shall
die indeed.”
“Seize him!” roared Twala to the executioners; who stood round red to
the eyes with the blood of their victims.
They advanced towards us, and then hesitated. As for Ignosi, he
clutched his spear, and raised it as though determined to sell his life
dearly.
“Stand back, ye dogs!” I shouted, “if ye would see to-morrow’s light.
Touch one hair of his head and your king dies,” and I covered Twala
with my revolver. Sir Henry and Good also drew their pistols, Sir Henry
pointing his at the leading executioner, who was advancing to carry out
the sentence, and Good taking a deliberate aim at Gagool.
Twala winced perceptibly as my barrel came in a line with his broad
chest.
“Well,” I said, “what is it to be, Twala?”
Then he spoke.
“Put away your magic tubes,” he said; “ye have adjured me in the name
of hospitality, and for that reason, but not from fear of what ye can
do, I spare him. Go in peace.”
“It is well,” I answered unconcernedly; “we are weary of slaughter, and
would sleep. Is the dance ended?”
“It is ended,” Twala answered sulkily. “Let these dead dogs,” pointing
to the long rows of corpses, “be flung out to the hyænas and the
vultures,” and he lifted his spear.
Instantly the regiments began to defile through the kraal gateway in
perfect silence, a fatigue party only remaining behind to drag away the
corpses of those who had been sacrificed.
Then we rose also, and making our salaam to his majesty, which he
hardly deigned to acknowledge, we departed to our huts.
“Well,” said Sir Henry, as we sat down, having first lit a lamp of the
sort used by the Kukuanas, of which the wick is made from the fibre of
a species of palm leaf, and the oil from clarified hippopotamus fat,
“well, I feel uncommonly inclined to be sick.”
“If I had any doubts about helping Umbopa to rebel against that
infernal blackguard,” put in Good, “they are gone now. It was as much
as I could do to sit still while that slaughter was going on. I tried
to keep my eyes shut, but they would open just at the wrong time. I
wonder where Infadoos is. Umbopa, my friend, you ought to be grateful
to us; your skin came near to having an air-hole made in it.”
“I am grateful, Bougwan,” was Umbopa’s answer, when I had translated,
“and I shall not forget. As for Infadoos, he will be here by-and-by. We
must wait.”
So we lit our pipes and waited.
CHAPTER XI.
WE GIVE A SIGN
For a long while—two hours, I should think—we sat there in silence,
being too much overwhelmed by the recollection of the horrors we had
seen to talk. At last, just as we were thinking of turning in—for the
night drew nigh to dawn—we heard a sound of steps. Then came the
challenge of a sentry posted at the kraal gate, which apparently was
answered, though not in an audible tone, for the steps still advanced;
and in another second Infadoos had entered the hut, followed by some
half-dozen stately-looking chiefs.
“My lords,” he said, “I have come according to my word. My lords and
Ignosi, rightful king of the Kukuanas, I have brought with me these
men,” pointing to the row of chiefs, “who are great men among us,
having each one of them the command of three thousand soldiers, that
live but to do their bidding, under the king’s. I have told them of
what I have seen, and what my ears have heard. Now let them also behold
the sacred snake around thee, and hear thy story, Ignosi, that they may
say whether or no they will make cause with thee against Twala the
king.”
By way of answer Ignosi again stripped off his girdle, and exhibited
the snake tattooed about him. Each chief in turn drew near and examined
the sign by the dim light of the lamp, and without saying a word passed
on to the other side.
Then Ignosi resumed his moocha, and addressing them, repeated the
history he had detailed in the morning.
“Now ye have heard, chiefs,” said Infadoos, when he had done, “what say
ye: will ye stand by this man and help him to his father’s throne, or
will ye not? The land cries out against Twala, and the blood of the
people flows like the waters in spring. Ye have seen to-night. Two
other chiefs there were with whom I had it in my mind to speak, and
where are they now? The hyænas howl over their corpses. Soon shall ye
be as they are if ye strike not. Choose then, my brothers.”
The eldest of the six men, a short, thick-set warrior, with white hair,
stepped forward a pace and answered—
“Thy words are true, Infadoos; the land cries out. My own brother is
among those who died to-night; but this is a great matter, and the
thing is hard to believe. How know we that if we lift our spears it may
not be for a thief and a liar? It is a great matter, I say, of which
none can see the end. For of this be sure, blood will flow in rivers
before the deed is done; many will still cleave to the king, for men
worship the sun that still shines bright in the heavens, rather than
that which has not risen. These white men from the Stars, their magic
is great, and Ignosi is under the cover of their wing. If he be indeed
the rightful king, let them give us a sign, and let the people have a
sign, that all may see. So shall men cleave to us, knowing of a truth
that the white man’s magic is with them.”
“Ye have the sign of the snake,” I answered.
“My lord, it is not enough. The snake may have been placed there since
the man’s childhood. Show us a sign, and it will suffice. But we will
not move without a sign.”
The others gave a decided assent, and I turned in perplexity to Sir
Henry and Good, and explained the situation.
“I think that I have it,” said Good exultingly; “ask them to give us a
moment to think.”
I did so, and the chiefs withdrew. So soon as they had gone Good went
to the little box where he kept his medicines, unlocked it, and took
out a note-book, in the fly-leaves of which was an almanack. “Now look
here, you fellows, isn’t to-morrow the 4th of June?” he said.
We had kept a careful note of the days, so were able to answer that it
was.
“Very good; then here we have it—‘4 June, total eclipse of the moon
commences at 8.15 Greenwich time, visible in Teneriffe—_South Africa_,
&c.’ There’s a sign for you. Tell them we will darken the moon
to-morrow night.”
The idea was a splendid one; indeed, the only weak spot about it was a
fear lest Good’s almanack might be incorrect. If we made a false
prophecy on such a subject, our prestige would be gone for ever, and so
would Ignosi’s chance of the throne of the Kukuanas.
“Suppose that the almanack is wrong,” suggested Sir Henry to Good, who