King Solomon's Mines
was busily employed in working out something on a blank page of the
book.
“I see no reason to suppose anything of the sort,” was his answer.
“Eclipses always come up to time; at least that is my experience of
them, and it especially states that this one will be visible in South
Africa. I have worked out the reckonings as well as I can, without
knowing our exact position; and I make out that the eclipse should
begin here about ten o’clock tomorrow night, and last till half-past
twelve. For an hour and a half or so there should be almost total
darkness.”
“Well,” said Sir Henry, “I suppose we had better risk it.”
I acquiesced, though doubtfully, for eclipses are queer cattle to deal
with—it might be a cloudy night, for instance, or our dates might be
wrong—and sent Umbopa to summon the chiefs back. Presently they came,
and I addressed them thus—
“Great men of the Kukuanas, and thou, Infadoos, listen. We love not to
show our powers, for to do so is to interfere with the course of
nature, and to plunge the world into fear and confusion. But since this
matter is a great one, and as we are angered against the king because
of the slaughter we have seen, and because of the act of the _Isanusi_
Gagool, who would have put our friend Ignosi to death, we have
determined to break a rule, and to give such a sign as all men may see.
Come hither”; and I led them to the door of the hut and pointed to the
red ball of the moon. “What see ye there?”
“We see the sinking moon,” answered the spokesman of the party.
“It is so. Now tell me, can any mortal man put out that moon before her
hour of setting, and bring the curtain of black night down upon the
land?”
The chief laughed a little at the question. “No, my lord, that no man
can do. The moon is stronger than man who looks on her, nor can she
vary in her courses.”
“Ye say so. Yet I tell you that to-morrow night, about two hours before
midnight, we will cause the moon to be eaten up for a space of an hour
and half an hour. Yes, deep darkness shall cover the earth, and it
shall be for a sign that Ignosi is indeed king of the Kukuanas. If we
do this thing, will ye be satisfied?”
“Yea, my lords,” answered the old chief with a smile, which was
reflected on the faces of his companions; “_if_ ye do this thing, we
will be satisfied indeed.”
“It shall be done; we three, Incubu, Bougwan, and Macumazahn, have said
it, and it shall be done. Dost thou hear, Infadoos?”
“I hear, my lord, but it is a wonderful thing that ye promise, to put
out the moon, the mother of the world, when she is at her full.”
“Yet shall we do it, Infadoos.”
“It is well, my lords. To-day, two hours after sunset, Twala will send
for my lords to witness the girls dance, and one hour after the dance
begins the girl whom Twala thinks the fairest shall be killed by
Scragga, the king’s son, as a sacrifice to the Silent Ones, who sit and
keep watch by the mountains yonder,” and he pointed towards the three
strange-looking peaks where Solomon’s road was supposed to end. “Then
let my lords darken the moon, and save the maiden’s life, and the
people will believe indeed.”
“Ay,” said the old chief, still smiling a little, “the people will
believe indeed.”
“Two miles from Loo,” went on Infadoos, “there is a hill curved like a
new moon, a stronghold, where my regiment, and three other regiments
which these chiefs command, are stationed. This morning we will make a
plan whereby two or three other regiments may be moved there also.
Then, if in truth my lords can darken the moon, in the darkness I will
take my lords by the hand and lead them out of Loo to this place, where
they shall be safe, and thence we can make war upon Twala the king.”
“It is good,” said I. “Now leave us to sleep awhile and to make ready
our magic.”
Infadoos rose, and, having saluted us, departed with the chiefs.
“My friends,” said Ignosi, so soon as they were gone, “can ye do this
wonderful thing, or were ye speaking empty words to the captains?”
“We believe that we can do it, Umbopa—Ignosi, I mean.”
“It is strange,” he answered, “and had ye not been Englishmen I would
not have believed it; but I have learned that English ‘gentlemen’ tell
no lies. If we live through the matter, be sure that I will repay you.”
“Ignosi,” said Sir Henry, “promise me one thing.”
“I will promise, Incubu, my friend, even before I hear it,” answered
the big man with a smile. “What is it?”
“This: that if ever you come to be king of this people you will do away
with the smelling out of wizards such as we saw last night; and that
the killing of men without trial shall no longer take place in the
land.”
Ignosi thought for a moment after I had translated this request, and
then answered—
“The ways of black people are not as the ways of white men, Incubu, nor
do we value life so highly. Yet I will promise. If it be in my power to
hold them back, the witch-finders shall hunt no more, nor shall any man
die the death without trial or judgment.”
“That’s a bargain, then,” said Sir Henry; “and now let us get a little
rest.”
Thoroughly wearied out, we were soon sound asleep, and slept till
Ignosi woke us about eleven o’clock. Then we rose, washed, and ate a
hearty breakfast. After that we went outside the hut and walked about,
amusing ourselves with examining the structure of the Kukuana huts and
observing the customs of the women.
“I hope that eclipse will come off,” said Sir Henry presently.
“If it does not it will soon be all up with us,” I answered mournfully;
“for so sure as we are living men some of those chiefs will tell the
whole story to the king, and then there will be another sort of
eclipse, and one that we shall certainly not like.”
Returning to the hut we ate some dinner, and passed the rest of the day
in receiving visits of ceremony and curiosity. At length the sun set,
and we enjoyed a couple of hours of such quiet as our melancholy
forebodings would allow to us. Finally, about half-past eight, a
messenger came from Twala to bid us to the great annual “dance of
girls” which was about to be celebrated.
Hastily we put on the chain shirts that the king had sent us, and
taking our rifles and ammunition with us, so as to have them handy in
case we had to fly, as suggested by Infadoos, we started boldly enough,
though with inward fear and trembling. The great space in front of the
king’s kraal bore a very different appearance from that which it had
presented on the previous evening. In place of the grim ranks of
serried warriors were company after company of Kukuana girls, not
over-dressed, so far as clothing went, but each crowned with a wreath
of flowers, and holding a palm leaf in one hand and a white arum lily
in the other. In the centre of the open moonlit space sat Twala the
king, with old Gagool at his feet, attended by Infadoos, the boy
Scragga, and twelve guards. There were also present about a score of
chiefs, amongst whom I recognised most of our friends of the night
before.
Twala greeted us with much apparent cordiality, though I saw him fix
his one eye viciously on Umbopa.
“Welcome, white men from the Stars,” he said; “this is another sight
from that which your eyes gazed on by the light of last night’s moon,
but it is not so good a sight. Girls are pleasant, and were it not for
such as these,” and he pointed round him, “we should none of us be here
this day; but men are better. Kisses and the tender words of women are
sweet, but the sound of the clashing of the spears of warriors, and the
smell of men’s blood, are sweeter far! Would ye have wives from among
our people, white men? If so, choose the fairest here, and ye shall
have them, as many as ye will,” and he paused for an answer.
As the prospect did not seem to be without attractions for Good, who,
like most sailors, is of a susceptible nature,—being elderly and wise,
foreseeing the endless complications that anything of the sort would
involve, for women bring trouble so surely as the night follows the
day, I put in a hasty answer—
“Thanks to thee, O king, but we white men wed only with white women
like ourselves. Your maidens are fair, but they are not for us!”
The king laughed. “It is well. In our land there is a proverb which
runs, ‘Women’s eyes are always bright, whatever the colour,’ and
another that says, ‘Love her who is present, for be sure she who is
absent is false to thee;’ but perhaps these things are not so in the
Stars. In a land where men are white all things are possible. So be it,
white men; the girls will not go begging! Welcome again; and welcome,
too, thou black one; if Gagool here had won her way, thou wouldst have
been stiff and cold by now. It is lucky for thee that thou too camest
from the Stars; ha! ha!”
“I can kill thee before thou killest me, O king,” was Ignosi’s calm
answer, “and thou shalt be stiff before my limbs cease to bend.”
Twala started. “Thou speakest boldly, boy,” he replied angrily;
“presume not too far.”
“He may well be bold in whose lips are truth. The truth is a sharp
spear which flies home and misses not. It is a message from ‘the
Stars,’ O king.”
Twala scowled, and his one eye gleamed fiercely, but he said nothing
more.
“Let the dance begin,” he cried, and then the flower-crowned girls
sprang forward in companies, singing a sweet song and waving the
delicate palms and white lilies. On they danced, looking faint and
spiritual in the soft, sad light of the risen moon; now whirling round
and round, now meeting in mimic warfare, swaying, eddying here and
there, coming forward, falling back in an ordered confusion delightful
to witness. At last they paused, and a beautiful young woman sprang out
of the ranks and began to pirouette in front of us with a grace and
vigour which would have put most ballet girls to shame. At length she
retired exhausted, and another took her place, then another and
another, but none of them, either in grace, skill, or personal
attractions, came up to the first.
When the chosen girls had all danced, the king lifted his hand.
“Which deem ye the fairest, white men?” he asked.
“The first,” said I unthinkingly. Next second I regretted it, for I
remembered that Infadoos had told us that the fairest woman must be
offered up as a sacrifice.
“Then is my mind as your minds, and my eyes as your eyes. She is the
fairest! and a sorry thing it is for her, for she must die!”
“_Ay, must die!_” piped out Gagool, casting a glance of her quick eyes
in the direction of the poor girl, who, as yet ignorant of the awful
fate in store for her, was standing some ten yards off in front of a
company of maidens, engaged in nervously picking a flower from her
wreath to pieces, petal by petal.
“Why, O king?” said I, restraining my indignation with difficulty; “the
girl has danced well, and pleased us; she is fair too; it would be hard
to reward her with death.”
Twala laughed as he answered—
“It is our custom, and the figures who sit in stone yonder,” and he
pointed towards the three distant peaks, “must have their due. Did I
fail to put the fairest girl to death to-day, misfortune would fall
upon me and my house. Thus runs the prophecy of my people: ‘If the king
offer not a sacrifice of a fair girl, on the day of the dance of
maidens, to the Old Ones who sit and watch on the mountains, then shall
he fall, and his house.’ Look ye, white men, my brother who reigned
before me offered not the sacrifice, because of the tears of the woman,
and he fell, and his house, and I reign in his stead. It is finished;
she must die!” Then turning to the guards—“Bring her hither; Scragga,
make sharp thy spear.”
Two of the men stepped forward, and as they advanced, the girl, for the
first time realising her impending fate, screamed aloud and turned to