CHAPTER IX.

TWALA THE KING

It will not be necessary for me to detail at length the incidents of

our journey to Loo. It took two full days’ travelling along Solomon’s

Great Road, which pursued its even course right into the heart of

Kukuanaland. Suffice it to say that as we went the country seemed to

grow richer and richer, and the kraals, with their wide surrounding

belts of cultivation, more and more numerous. They were all built upon

the same principles as the first camp which we had reached, and were

guarded by ample garrisons of troops. Indeed, in Kukuanaland, as among

the Germans, the Zulus, and the Masai, every able-bodied man is a

soldier, so that the whole force of the nation is available for its

wars, offensive or defensive. As we travelled we were overtaken by

thousands of warriors hurrying up to Loo to be present at the great

annual review and festival, and more splendid troops I never saw.

At sunset on the second day, we stopped to rest awhile upon the summit

of some heights over which the road ran, and there on a beautiful and

fertile plain before us lay Loo itself. For a native town it is an

enormous place, quite five miles round, I should say, with outlying

kraals projecting from it, that serve on grand occasions as cantonments

for the regiments, and a curious horseshoe-shaped hill, with which we

were destined to become better acquainted, about two miles to the

north. It is beautifully situated, and through the centre of the kraal,

dividing it into two portions, runs a river, which appeared to be

bridged in several places, the same indeed that we had seen from the

slopes of Sheba’s Breasts. Sixty or seventy miles away three great

snow-capped mountains, placed at the points of a triangle, started out

of the level plain. The conformation of these mountains is unlike that

of Sheba’s Breasts, being sheer and precipitous, instead of smooth and

rounded.

Infadoos saw us looking at them, and volunteered a remark.

“The road ends there,” he said, pointing to the mountains known among

the Kukuanas as the “Three Witches.”

“Why does it end?” I asked.

“Who knows?” he answered with a shrug; “the mountains are full of

caves, and there is a great pit between them. It is there that the wise

men of old time used to go to get whatever it was they came for to this

country, and it is there now that our kings are buried in the Place of

Death.”

“What was it they came for?” I asked eagerly.

“Nay, I know not. My lords who have dropped from the Stars should

know,” he answered with a quick look. Evidently he knew more than he

chose to say.

“Yes,” I went on, “you are right, in the Stars we learn many things. I

have heard, for instance, that the wise men of old came to these

mountains to find bright stones, pretty playthings, and yellow iron.”

“My lord is wise,” he answered coldly; “I am but a child and cannot

talk with my lord on such matters. My lord must speak with Gagool the

old, at the king’s place, who is wise even as my lord,” and he went

away.

So soon as he was gone I turned to the others, and pointed out the

mountains. “There are Solomon’s diamond mines,” I said.

Umbopa was standing with them, apparently plunged in one of the fits of

abstraction which were common to him, and caught my words.

“Yes, Macumazahn,” he put in, in Zulu, “the diamonds are surely there,

and you shall have them, since you white men are so fond of toys and

money.”

“How dost thou know that, Umbopa?” I asked sharply, for I did not like

his mysterious ways.

He laughed. “I dreamed it in the night, white men;” then he too turned

on his heel and went.

“Now what,” said Sir Henry, “is our black friend driving at? He knows

more than he chooses to say, that is clear. By the way, Quatermain, has

he heard anything of—of my brother?”

“Nothing; he has asked everyone he has become friendly with, but they

all declare that no white man has ever been seen in the country

before.”

“Do you suppose that he got here at all?” suggested Good; “we have only

reached the place by a miracle; is it likely he could have reached it

without the map?”

“I don’t know,” said Sir Henry gloomily, “but somehow I think that I

shall find him.”

Slowly the sun sank, then suddenly darkness rushed down on the land

like a tangible thing. There was no breathing-space between the day and

night, no soft transformation scene, for in these latitudes twilight

does not exist. The change from day to night is as quick and as

absolute as the change from life to death. The sun sank and the world

was wreathed in shadows. But not for long, for see in the west there is

a glow, then come rays of silver light, and at last the full and

glorious moon lights up the plain and shoots its gleaming arrows far

and wide, filling the earth with a faint refulgence.

We stood and watched the lovely sight, whilst the stars grew pale

before this chastened majesty, and felt our hearts lifted up in the

presence of a beauty that I cannot describe. Mine has been a rough

life, but there are a few things I am thankful to have lived for, and

one of them is to have seen that moon shine over Kukuanaland.

Presently our meditations were broken in upon by our polite friend

Infadoos.

“If my lords are rested we will journey on to Loo, where a hut is made

ready for my lords to-night. The moon is now bright, so that we shall

not fall by the way.”

We assented, and in an hour’s time were at the outskirts of the town,

of which the extent, mapped out as it was by thousands of camp fires,

appeared absolutely endless. Indeed, Good, who is always fond of a bad

joke, christened it “Unlimited Loo.” Soon we came to a moat with a

drawbridge, where we were met by the rattling of arms and the hoarse

challenge of a sentry. Infadoos gave some password that I could not

catch, which was met with a salute, and we passed on through the

central street of the great grass city. After nearly half an hour’s

tramp, past endless lines of huts, Infadoos halted at last by the gate

of a little group of huts which surrounded a small courtyard of

powdered limestone, and informed us that these were to be our “poor”

quarters.

We entered, and found that a hut had been assigned to each of us. These

huts were superior to any that we had yet seen, and in each was a most

comfortable bed made of tanned skins, spread upon mattresses of

aromatic grass. Food too was ready for us, and so soon as we had washed

ourselves with water, which stood ready in earthenware jars, some young

women of handsome appearance brought us roasted meats, and mealie cobs

daintily served on wooden platters, and presented them to us with deep

obeisances.

We ate and drank, and then, the beds having been all moved into one hut

by our request, a precaution at which the amiable young ladies smiled,

we flung ourselves down to sleep, thoroughly wearied with our long

journey.

When we woke it was to find the sun high in the heavens, and the female

attendants, who did not seem to be troubled by any false shame, already

standing inside the hut, having been ordered to attend and help us to

“make ready.”

“Make ready, indeed,” growled Good; “when one has only a flannel shirt

and a pair of boots, that does not take long. I wish you would ask them

for my trousers, Quatermain.”

I asked accordingly, but was informed that these sacred relics had

already been taken to the king, who would see us in the forenoon.

Somewhat to their astonishment and disappointment, having requested the

young ladies to step outside, we proceeded to make the best toilet of

which the circumstances admitted. Good even went the length of again

shaving the right side of his face; the left, on which now appeared a

very fair crop of whiskers, we impressed upon him he must on no account

touch. As for ourselves, we were contented with a good wash and combing

our hair. Sir Henry’s yellow locks were now almost upon his shoulders,

and he looked more like an ancient Dane than ever, while my grizzled

scrub was fully an inch long, instead of half an inch, which in a

general way I considered my maximum length.

By the time that we had eaten our breakfast, and smoked a pipe, a

message was brought to us by no less a personage than Infadoos himself

that Twala the king was ready to see us, if we would be pleased to

come.

We remarked in reply that we should prefer to wait till the sun was a

little higher, we were yet weary with our journey, &c., &c. It is

always well, when dealing with uncivilised people, not to be in too

great a hurry. They are apt to mistake politeness for awe or servility.

So, although we were quite as anxious to see Twala as Twala could be to

see us, we sat down and waited for an hour, employing the interval in

preparing such presents as our slender stock of goods permitted—namely,

the Winchester rifle which had been used by poor Ventvögel, and some

beads. The rifle and ammunition we determined to present to his royal

highness, and the beads were for his wives and courtiers. We had

already given a few to Infadoos and Scragga, and found that they were

delighted with them, never having seen such things before. At length we

declared that we were ready, and guided by Infadoos, started off to the

audience, Umbopa carrying the rifle and beads.

After walking a few hundred yards we came to an enclosure, something

like that surrounding the huts which had been allotted to us, only

fifty times as big, for it could not have covered less than six or

seven acres of ground. All round the outside fence stood a row of huts,

which were the habitations of the king’s wives. Exactly opposite the

gateway, on the further side of the open space, was a very large hut,

built by itself, in which his majesty resided. All the rest was open

ground; that is to say, it would have been open had it not been filled

by company after company of warriors, who were mustered there to the

number of seven or eight thousand. These men stood still as statues as

we advanced through them, and it would be impossible to give an

adequate idea of the grandeur of the spectacle which they presented,

with their waving plumes, their glancing spears, and iron-backed

ox-hide shields.

The space in front of the large hut was empty, but before it were

placed several stools. On three of these, at a sign from Infadoos, we

seated ourselves, Umbopa standing behind us. As for Infadoos, he took

up a position by the door of the hut. So we waited for ten minutes or

more in the midst of a dead silence, but conscious that we were the

object of the concentrated gaze of some eight thousand pairs of eyes.

It was a somewhat trying ordeal, but we carried it off as best we

could. At length the door of the hut opened, and a gigantic figure,

with a splendid tiger-skin karross flung over its shoulders, stepped

out, followed by the boy Scragga, and what appeared to us to be a

withered-up monkey, wrapped in a fur cloak. The figure seated itself

upon a stool, Scragga took his stand behind it, and the withered-up

monkey crept on all fours into the shade of the hut and squatted down.

Still there was silence.

Then the gigantic figure slipped off the karross and stood up before

us, a truly alarming spectacle. It was that of an enormous man with the

most entirely repulsive countenance we had ever beheld. This man’s lips

were as thick as a Negro’s, the nose was flat, he had but one gleaming

black eye, for the other was represented by a hollow in the face, and

his whole expression was cruel and sensual to a degree. From the large

head rose a magnificent plume of white ostrich feathers, his body was

clad in a shirt of shining chain armour, whilst round the waist and

right knee were the usual garnishes of white ox-tail. In his right hand

was a huge spear, about the neck a thick torque of gold, and bound on

the forehead shone dully a single and enormous uncut diamond.

Still there was silence; but not for long. Presently the man, whom we

rightly guessed to be the king, raised the great javelin in his hand.

Instantly eight thousand spears were lifted in answer, and from eight

thousand throats rang out the royal salute of “_Koom_.” Three times

this was repeated, and each time the earth shook with the noise, that

can only be compared to the deepest notes of thunder.

“Be humble, O people,” piped out a thin voice which seemed to come from

the monkey in the shade, “it is the king.”

“_It is the king_,” boomed out the eight thousand throats in answer.

“_Be humble, O people, it is the king._”

Then there was silence again—dead silence. Presently, however, it was

broken. A soldier on our left dropped his shield, which fell with a

clatter on to the limestone flooring.

Twala turned his one cold eye in the direction of the noise.

“Come hither, thou,” he said, in a cold voice.

A fine young man stepped out of the ranks, and stood before him.

“It was thy shield that fell, thou awkward dog. Wilt thou make me a

reproach in the eyes of these strangers from the Stars? What hast thou

to say for thyself?”

We saw the poor fellow turn pale under his dusky skin.

“It was by chance, O Calf of the Black Cow,” he murmured.

“Then it is a chance for which thou must pay. Thou hast made me

foolish; prepare for death.”

“I am the king’s ox,” was the low answer.

“Scragga,” roared the king, “let me see how thou canst use thy spear.

Kill me this blundering fool.”

Scragga stepped forward with an ill-favoured grin, and lifted his

spear. The poor victim covered his eyes with his hand and stood still.

As for us, we were petrified with horror.

“Once, twice,” he waved the spear, and then struck, ah! right home—the

spear stood out a foot behind the soldier’s back. He flung up his hands

and dropped dead. From the multitude about us rose something like a

murmur, it rolled round and round, and died away. The tragedy was

finished; there lay the corpse, and we had not yet realised that it had

been enacted. Sir Henry sprang up and swore a great oath, then,

overpowered by the sense of silence, sat down again.

“The thrust was a good one,” said the king; “take him away.”

Four men stepped out of the ranks, and lifting the body of the murdered

man, carried it thence.

“Cover up the blood-stains, cover them up,” piped out the thin voice

that proceeded from the monkey-like figure; “the king’s word is spoken,

the king’s doom is done!”

Thereupon a girl came forward from behind the hut, bearing a jar filled

with powdered lime, which she scattered over the red mark, blotting it

from sight.

Sir Henry meanwhile was boiling with rage at what had happened; indeed,

it was with difficulty that we could keep him still.

“Sit down, for heaven’s sake,” I whispered; “our lives depend on it.”

He yielded and remained quiet.

Twala sat silent until the traces of the tragedy had been removed, then

he addressed us.

“White people,” he said, “who come hither, whence I know not, and why I

know not, greeting.”

“Greeting, Twala, King of the Kukuanas,” I answered.

“White people, whence come ye, and what seek ye?”

“We come from the Stars, ask us not how. We come to see this land.”

“Ye journey from far to see a little thing. And that man with you,”

pointing to Umbopa, “does he also come from the Stars?”

“Even so; there are people of thy colour in the heavens above; but ask

not of matters too high for thee, Twala the king.”

“Ye speak with a loud voice, people of the Stars,” Twala answered in a

tone which I scarcely liked. “Remember that the Stars are far off, and

ye are here. How if I make you as him whom they bore away?”

I laughed out loud, though there was little laughter in my heart.

“O king,” I said, “be careful, walk warily over hot stones, lest thou

shouldst burn thy feet; hold the spear by the handle, lest thou should

cut thy hands. Touch but one hair of our heads, and destruction shall

come upon thee. What, have not these”—pointing to Infadoos and Scragga,

who, young villain that he was, was employed in cleaning the blood of

the soldier off his spear—“told thee what manner of men we are? Hast

thou seen the like of us?” and I pointed to Good, feeling quite sure

that he had never seen anybody before who looked in the least like

_him_ as he then appeared.

“It is true, I have not,” said the king, surveying Good with interest.

“Have they not told thee how we strike with death from afar?” I went

on.

“They have told me, but I believe them not. Let me see you kill. Kill

me a man among those who stand yonder”—and he pointed to the opposite

side of the kraal—“and I will believe.”

“Nay,” I answered; “we shed no blood of men except in just punishment;

but if thou wilt see, bid thy servants drive in an ox through the kraal

gates, and before he has run twenty paces I will strike him dead.”

“Nay,” laughed the king, “kill me a man and I will believe.”

“Good, O king, so be it,” I answered coolly; “do thou walk across the

open space, and before thy feet reach the gate thou shalt be dead; or

if thou wilt not, send thy son Scragga” (whom at that moment it would

have given me much pleasure to shoot).

On hearing this suggestion Scragga uttered a sort of howl, and bolted

into the hut.

Twala frowned majestically; the suggestion did not please him.

“Let a young ox be driven in,” he said.

Two men at once departed, running swiftly.

“Now, Sir Henry,” said I, “do you shoot. I want to show this ruffian

that I am not the only magician of the party.”

Sir Henry accordingly took his “express,” and made ready.

“I hope I shall make a good shot,” he groaned.

“You must,” I answered. “If you miss with the first barrel, let him

have the second. Sight for 150 yards, and wait till the beast turns

broadside on.”

Then came a pause, until presently we caught sight of an ox running

straight for the kraal gate. It came on through the gate, then,

catching sight of the vast concourse of people, stopped stupidly,

turned round, and bellowed.

“Now’s your time,” I whispered.

Up went the rifle.

Bang! _thud_! and the ox was kicking on his back, shot in the ribs. The

semi-hollow bullet had done its work well, and a sigh of astonishment

went up from the assembled thousands.

I turned round coolly—

“Have I lied, O king?”

“Nay, white man, it is the truth,” was the somewhat awed answer.

“Listen, Twala,” I went on. “Thou hast seen. Now know we come in peace,

not in war. See,” and I held up the Winchester repeater; “here is a

hollow staff that shall enable thee to kill even as we kill, only I lay

this charm upon it, thou shalt kill no man with it. If thou liftest it

against a man, it shall kill thee. Stay, I will show thee. Bid a

soldier step forty paces and place the shaft of a spear in the ground

so that the flat blade looks towards us.”

In a few seconds it was done.

“Now, see, I will break yonder spear.”

Taking a careful sight I fired. The bullet struck the flat of the

spear, and shattered the blade into fragments.

Again the sigh of astonishment went up.

“Now, Twala, we give this magic tube to thee, and by-and-by I will show

thee how to use it; but beware how thou turnest the magic of the Stars

against a man of earth,” and I handed him the rifle.

The king took it very gingerly, and laid it down at his feet. As he did

so I observed the wizened monkey-like figure creeping from the shadow

of the hut. It crept on all fours, but when it reached the place where

the king sat it rose upon its feet, and throwing the furry covering

from its face, revealed a most extraordinary and weird countenance.

Apparently it was that of a woman of great age so shrunken that in size

it seemed no larger than the face of a year-old child, although made up

of a number of deep and yellow wrinkles. Set in these wrinkles was a

sunken slit, that represented the mouth, beneath which the chin curved

outwards to a point. There was no nose to speak of; indeed, the visage

might have been taken for that of a sun-dried corpse had it not been

for a pair of large black eyes, still full of fire and intelligence,

which gleamed and played under the snow-white eyebrows, and the

projecting parchment-coloured skull, like jewels in a charnel-house. As

for the head itself, it was perfectly bare, and yellow in hue, while

its wrinkled scalp moved and contracted like the hood of a cobra.

The figure to which this fearful countenance belonged, a countenance so

fearful indeed that it caused a shiver of fear to pass through us as we

gazed on it, stood still for a moment. Then suddenly it projected a

skinny claw armed with nails nearly an inch long, and laying it on the

shoulder of Twala the king, began to speak in a thin and piercing

voice—

“Listen, O king! Listen, O warriors! Listen, O mountains and plains and

rivers, home of the Kukuana race! Listen, O skies and sun, O rain and

storm and mist! Listen, O men and women, O youths and maidens, and O ye

babes unborn! Listen, all things that live and must die! Listen, all

dead things that shall live again—again to die! Listen, the spirit of

life is in me and I prophesy. I prophesy! I prophesy!”

The words died away in a faint wail, and dread seemed to seize upon the

hearts of all who heard them, including our own. This old woman was

very terrible.

“_Blood! blood! blood!_ rivers of blood; blood everywhere. I see it, I

smell it, I taste it—it is salt! it runs red upon the ground, it rains

down from the skies.

“_Footsteps! footsteps! footsteps!_ the tread of the white man coming

from afar. It shakes the earth; the earth trembles before her master.

“Blood is good, the red blood is bright; there is no smell like the

smell of new-shed blood. The lions shall lap it and roar, the vultures

shall wash their wings in it and shriek with joy.

“I am old! I am old! I have seen much blood; _ha, ha!_ but I shall see

more ere I die, and be merry. How old am I, think ye? Your fathers knew

me, and _their_ fathers knew me, and _their_ fathers’ fathers’ fathers.

I have seen the white man and know his desires. I am old, but the

mountains are older than I. Who made the great road, tell me? Who wrote

the pictures on the rocks, tell me? Who reared up the three Silent Ones

yonder, that gaze across the pit, tell me?” and she pointed towards the

three precipitous mountains which we had noticed on the previous night.

“Ye know not, but I know. It was a white people who were before ye are,

who shall be when ye are not, who shall eat you up and destroy you.

_Yea! yea! yea!_

“And what came they for, the White Ones, the Terrible Ones, the skilled

in magic and all learning, the strong, the unswerving? What is that

bright stone upon thy forehead, O king? Whose hands made the iron

garments upon thy breast, O king? Ye know not, but I know. I the Old

One, I the Wise One, I the _Isanusi_, the witch doctress!”

Then she turned her bald vulture-head towards us.

“What seek ye, white men of the Stars—ah, yes, of the Stars? Do ye seek

a lost one? Ye shall not find him here. He is not here. Never for ages

upon ages has a white foot pressed this land; never except once, and I

remember that he left it but to die. Ye come for bright stones; I know

it—I know it; ye shall find them when the blood is dry; but shall ye

return whence ye came, or shall ye stop with me? _Ha! ha! ha!_

“And thou, thou with the dark skin and the proud bearing,” and she

pointed her skinny finger at Umbopa, “who art _thou_, and what seekest

_thou_? Not stones that shine, not yellow metal that gleams, these thou

leavest to ‘white men from the Stars.’ Methinks I know thee; methinks I

can smell the smell of the blood in thy heart. Strip off the girdle—”

Here the features of this extraordinary creature became convulsed, and

she fell to the ground foaming in an epileptic fit, and was carried

into the hut.

The king rose up trembling, and waved his hand. Instantly the regiments

began to file off, and in ten minutes, save for ourselves, the king,

and a few attendants, the great space was left empty.

“White people,” he said, “it passes in my mind to kill you. Gagool has

spoken strange words. What say ye?”

I laughed. “Be careful, O king, we are not easy to slay. Thou hast seen

the fate of the ox; wouldst thou be as the ox is?”

The king frowned. “It is not well to threaten a king.”

“We threaten not, we speak what is true. Try to kill us, O king, and

learn.”

The great savage put his hand to his forehead and thought.

“Go in peace,” he said at length. “To-night is the great dance. Ye

shall see it. Fear not that I shall set a snare for you. To-morrow I

will think.”

“It is well, O king,” I answered unconcernedly, and then, accompanied

by Infadoos, we rose and went back to our kraal.