Rensselaer Republican, Volume 22, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 March 1890 — ALLAN QUATERMAIN. [ARTICLE]

ALLAN QUATERMAIN.

A Record of Remarkable Adventures and Discoveries. BY H. RIDER HAGGARD. CHAPTER XVll— Continued. .Generals who could be trusted wer« summoned from their quarters, and as much of the state affairs as was thought desirable was told to each, strict injunctions being given to them to get all their available force together. The same was done with such ol the more powerful lords as Nyleptha knew she could rely on, several ol whom left that very day for distant parts of the country to gather up their tribesmen and retainers. Sealed orders were dispatched to the rulers of far-off cities, and some twenty messengers were sent off before nightfall with instructions to ride early and late till they reached the distant chief to whom their letters were addressed: also many spies were set to work. All the afternoon and evening we labored, assisted by some confidential scribers, Nyleptha showing an energy and resource of mind that astonished me, and and it was eight o’clock before we got back to our quarters. Here we heard from Alphonse, who was deeply aggrieved because our non-return had spoiled his dinner (for he had turned cook again now), that Good had come back from his hawking and gone on duty. As instructions had already been given to the officer of the outer guard to

double the scntries of the gate, and as we had no reason to fear any immediate danger, we did not think it worth while to hunt him up and tell him anything of what had passed, which at best was, under tire peculiar circumstances of the case, one of those tasks one prefers to postpone, so after swallowing our food w,e turned in to get some much-needed rest. Before we did so, however, it occurred to Curtis to tell old Umslopogaas to keep a lookout in the neighborhood of Nyleptha’s private apartments. Unslopogaas was now well known about the place, and

by the queen's order allowed to pass whither he would by the guards, a permission of which he often availed himself by roaming about the palace during the still hours in a nocturnal fashion that he favored, and which is by no means uncommon amongst black men generally. His presence in the corridors would not, therefore.be likely to excite remark. Without any comment the Zulu took up his ax and departed, and we also departed to bed. I seemed to have been asleep but a few minutes when I was awakened by a peculiar sensation of uneasiness. I felt that somebody was in the room and looking at me, and instantly sat up, to see to my surprise that it was already dawn, and that there, standing at the foot of my couch and looking peculiarly grim and gaunt in the gray light was Umslopogaas himself. “How long hast thou been there?” I asked, testily, for it is not pleasant to be aroused in such a fashion. “Mayhap the half ot an hour, Macumazabn. I have a word for thee.” ■•Speak on,” I said, now wide enough awake. “As I was bid I went last night to the place of the White Queen and hid myself behind a pillar in the second ante-room, beyond which is the sleeping place of the queen. Bougwan (Good) was in the first ante-room alone and outside the curtain of that room was a sentry , but 1 had a mind to see isl could pass -in unseen, and I did. gliding behind them both. There I waited for many hours; when suddenly I perceived a dark figure coming secretly toward me. It was the figu re of a woman, and in her hand she held a ' Behtnd that figurecrept another unseen by the woman. It was Bougwan following in her tracks. His shoes were off, and for so fat a man he followed very well. The woman passed me, and the starlight shone upon her face.” “Who is it?” I asked, impatiently. “The face was the face of the ‘Lady of the Night,’ and of a truth she is well named.

“I waited, and Bougwan passed me also Then I followed. So we went slowly and without a sound up the long chamber. First the woman, then Bougwan, and then I; and the woman saw not Bougwan, and Bougwan saw not me. At last the ‘Lady of the Night’ came to the curtains that shut off the sleeping place of the White Queen, and put out her left hand to .part them. She passed through, and so did Bougwan, find so did I. At the far end of the room is the bed of the queen, and on it she lay very fast asleep. I could hear her breath, and see one white arm laying on the coverlid like a streak of snow on the dry grass. The 'Lady of the Night 1 doubled herself thus, and with the long knife lifted crept toward the bed. So straight did she gaze thereat that she never thought to look behind her. When she was quite close, Bougwan touched her on the arm. and she caught her breath and turned, and I saw the knife flash, and heard it strike. Well was it for Bougwan that he had the skin of iron ’on him, or he had

been pierced. Then for the first time he saw who the woman was, and with-' out a word ho fell back astonished and unable to speak. She. too, was astonished, and spoke not. but suddenly she laid her finger on her lip, thus, and walked toward and through the curtain, and with her went Bougwan. So close did she pass to me that her dress touched me, and I was nigh to slaying her as she went. In the first outer room she spoke to Bougwan in a whisper, and clasping her hands thus, ■he pleaded with"him.' but what she said I know not. A id. so taey passed on to the sec md outer room, she pleading. and ho shaking his head, and spying, ‘Nay, nay, nay.’ And it seemed to me that ho was about to call the jruard, when she stopped talking and

I looked at him with great eyes, and I saw that he was bewitched by E'er beauty. Then she stretched out her hand and he kissed it, whereon I gathered myself together to advance take her, seeing that now had Bougwan become a woman, and no longer knew the good from the evil, when behold! she was gone.’* “Gone!” I ejaculated. “Ay, gone, and there stood Bougwan staring at the wall like one asleep; and presently he went too, and I waited awhile and came away a 150.”... “Art thou sure, Umslopogaas,” said 5 I, 1 ‘that thou has not been a dreamer this night?” In reply he opened his left hand, and produced about three inches of the blade of a dagger of the finest steel. “If I be, Macumazahn, behold what the dream left with me. 'the knife broke upon Bougwan’s bosom, and as I passed I picked this up in the sleeping place of the White Queen.”

CHAPTER XVIII. war! red war! Telling Umslopogaas to wait, I tumbled into my clothes and went off with him to Sir Henry’s room, where the Zulu repeated his story word for word. It was a sight to watch Curtis’s face as he heard it. “Great heavens!” he said; “here have I been snoring away while Nyleptha was nearly murdered—and all through me, too. What a fiend that Sorais must be! It would have served her well if Umslopogaas had cut her down in the act. ” “Ay.” said the Zulu. “Fear not; I shoutdhavoslaihher ere she struck. I was but waiting the moment. ” I said nothing; but I could not help thinking that many a thousand doomed lives would have been saved if he had meted.out to Sorais the fate she meant for her sister. And, as the issue proved, I was right. After he had told his tale Umslopogaas went off unconcernedly to get his morning meal, and Sir Henry and I fell to talking.

As first he was very bitter against Good, who, he said, was no longer to be trusted. having d esignedly allowed Sorais to escape by some secret stair when it was his duty to have handed her over to justice. Indeed, he spoke in the most unmeasured terms on the matter. I let him run on awhile reflecting to myself how easy we find it to be hard on the weakness of others, and how tender we are to our own. ‘■Really, my dear fellow,” I said at length, “one would never think, to hear you talk, that you were the man who had an interview with this same lady yesterday, and found it rather difficult to resist her fascinations, notwithstanding your ties to one of the loveliest and most loving women in the whole world.—Now suppose it was Nyleptha who had tried to murder Sorais, and you had caught her, and she had pleaded with you. would you have been so very eager to hand her over to an open shame, and to death by fire? Just look at the matter through Good’s eyeglass for a miunte before you denounce ah old friend as a scoundrel.” He listened to this jobation submissively, and then frankly acknowledged that he had spoken harshly. It is one of the best points in Sir Henry’s character that he is always ready to own to it when he is in the wrong. But, though I spoke up for Good, I was not blind to the fact that, however natural his behavior might be, it

was obvious that he was being involved in a very awkward and disgaceful complication. A foul and wicked murder had been attempted, and he had let the murderess escape, and thereby among other things, allowed her to gain a complete ascendency over herself. In faint, he was in a fair way to become her tool—and no more dreadful fate can befall a man than to become the tool of an unscrupulous woman, or indeed of any woman. There is but one end to . it:. when he is broken, or has served her purpose, he is thrown away— turned out on the world to hunt for his lost self-respect. Whilst I was pondering and wondering what was to be done—for the whole subject was a thorny one —I suddenly heard a great clamor in the court-yard outside, and distingiiished the voices of Umslopogaas and Alphonse, -the former eursing-’ferious-ly, and the latter yelling in terror. Hurrying out to see what was the matter, I was met by a ludicrous sight. The little Frenchman was running up the court- yard at an extraordinary speed, and after him sped Umslopogaas like a great greyhound. Just as I came out he caught him. and, lifting him right off his legs, carried hin some paces to a beautiful but very dense flowering shrub which bore a flower not unlike the gardenia, but was covered with short thorns. Next, despite his howls and struggles, he with one mighty thrust plunged poor Alphonse head first into the bush, so that nothing but the calves of his legs and heels remained in evidence. Then, satisfied with what he had done, the Zulu folded his arms and stood grimly contemplating his Frenchman’s kicks, and listening to his yells, which are awful.

‘•What art thou doing?” I said, running up. “WouldSt thou kill the man? Pull him out of the bush!” With, a savage grunt he obeyed, seizing the wretched Alphonse by the ankle, and with a jerk that must have nearly dislocated it, tearing him out of tho shrub. Never did I see such a sight as he presented, his clothes half torn off his back and bleeding as he was in everyjdirection from the sharp I thorns. There he lay and yelled and ' rolled, and there was no getting any- ■ thing out of. him. ' At LGC however, he got up, and ensconcing himself behind me, cursed old Uirtslopogaas by every saint in the calendar, vowing by the blood of his heroic grandfather that he would poison him. and “have his revenge.” At last I got to the truth of the mat-

ter. It appeared that Alphonse habitually cooked Umslopogaas’s porridge, which the latter eat for breakfast Li the corner of the court-yard, justaa he would have dune at home in Zululand, from a gourd, and with a wooden spoon. Now Umslopogaas had, like many Zulus, a great horror of fish, which he considered a species ol water-snake; So Alphonse, who was as fond of playing tricks as a monkey, and who was also a consumate cook? determined to make him eat some. Accordingly he grated up a quantity of white fish very finely and mixed it with the Zulu’s porridge, who swallowed it nearly all down in ignorance of what he whs eating. But, unfortunately for Alphonse, he could not restrain his joy at this sight, and came capering and peering round, till at last Umslopogaas, who was very clever in his way, suspected something, and, after a careful examination of the remains of his porridge, discovered the “Buffalo heifer’s trick,” and, in revenge, served him as I have said. Indeed, the little man was fortunate not to get a broken neck for his pains; for, as one would have thought, he

might have learned from the episode of his display of axmanship that “le monsieur noir” was an ill person to play practical jokes on. This incident was unimportant enough in itself, but I narrate it because it led to serious consequences. As soon as he had stanched the bleeding from his scratches and washed himself, Alphonse went off still cursing, to recover his temper, a process which I knew from experience would take a very long time.—When he had gone I gave Umslopogaas a jobation, and told him I was ashamed of his behavior. “An, well, Macumazahn,” he said, “you must be gentle with me, for here is not my place. I am weary of it. weary to death of eating and drinking, of sleeping and giving in marriage. I love not this soft lite in stone houses that takes the heart of a ifian, and turns his strength to water and his

flesh to fat. I love not the white robes and the delicate woman, the blowing pf trumpets and the flying of hawks. When we fought the Masai at the kraal yonder, ah, then life was worth the living, but here is never a blow struck in anger and I begin to think I shall go the way of my fathers and lift Inkosi-kaas no more,” and he held up the ax and gazed at it in sorrow. “Ah,” I said, “that is thy complaint, is it? Thou hast the blood-sickness, hast thou? and the Woodpecker wants a tree. And at thy age, too. Shame on thee! Umslopogaas-” “Ay, Macumazahn, mine is a red trade, yet it is better and more honest than some. Better is it to slay a man in fair fight than to suck out his heart’s blood in buying and selling and usury after your white fashion. Many a man have I slain, yet is there never a one that I should fear to look in the face again, ay, many are there who once were friends, and whom I should be right glad to snuff with. But there! there! thou hast thy ways, and I mine; each to his own people and his own place. The high-veldt ox will die in the fat bush country, and so it is with me, Macumazahn: lam rough, I know it, and when my blood is warm I know not what to do, but yet wilt thou be sorry when the night swallows me and I am utterly lost in the blackness, for in thy heart thou lovest me,-~my-father, Macumazahn the fox, though I be naught but a broken-down Zulu war-dog—a chief for whom there is no

room in his own kraal, an outcast and a wanderer in strange places; ay, 1 love thee, Macumazahn, for we have grown gray together, and there is that between us that can not be seen, and yetis too strong for breaking;” and he took his snuff-box, which was made of an old brass cartridge, from the slit in his ear where he always carried it, and handed it to me for me to help myself, j I took the pinch of snuff with some emotion. It was quite true, I was much attached to the blood-tirsty old ruffian. I don’t know what was the charm of his character;’ but it had a charm; perhaps.it was its fierce honesty and directness- perhaps one admired his almost superhuman skill and strength, or it may have been simply that he was so absolutely unique. Frankly, with all my experience of savages, I never knew a man quite like him, he was- so wise and yet such a child with it all; and though it seems laughable to say so, like the hero- of the Yankee parody, he 1 ‘had a tender heart.” Anyway, I was very fond of him, though I should never have thought of telling him so. “Ay, old wolf, ” I said, “thine is a strange love. Thou wouldst split me to the chin if I stood in thy path tomorrow.”

“Thou speakest truth, Macumazahn; that would lif it came in the way of duty; but I should love thee all the same when the blow had gone fairly home.' Is there any chance of some fighting here, Macumazahn?” he went on, in an insinuating voice. “Methought that what I saw last night did show that the two great queens were vexed one with another. Else had the •Lady of the Night’ not brought that dagger with her.”

I agreed with him that it showed that more or less pique and irritation existed between the ladies, and told him how things stood,' and that they were quarreling over Incubu. “Ah, is it so?” he exclaimed, springing up in delight; “then will there be war as surely as the rivers rise in the rains—war to the end. Women love the last blow as well as the last word, and when they fight for love they are pitiless as a wounded buffalo. See thou, Macumazahn, a woman will swim through blood to her desire, and think naught of it. With have I seen It once, and twice also. Ah, Macumazahn, we shall see this fine place of houses burning yet, and hear the battle cries come ringing up the street sit I haveinot wandered for nothings Can this folk fight think ye?”

Just then Sir Henry joined <u% .and Good arrived, too, from another direction, looking very pale and hollow-eyed. The moment Umslopogaas saw the latter he stopped his blood-thirsty talk and greeted him. “Ah, Bougwan,”hecried, “greeting to thee. Inkoos, thou art surely weary. Didst thou hunt too much yesterday?” Then, without waiting for an answer . - “Listen, Bougwan, and I will tell thee a story; it is about a woman, there wilt thou hear it, is it not so? “There was a man and he had a brother, and there was a woman who loved the man's brother and was beloved of the man, But the man’s brother had a favorite wife and loved not the woman, and he made a mock of her. Tnen the woman, being very cunning and fierce-hearted for revenge, took counsel with herself and said to the man, T love thee.’ And he knew it was a lie, yet because of his great love of the woman, who was very fair, did he listen to her words and made

war. And when many people had been killed his brother sent to him, saying, Why slayest thou me? What hurt have I done unto thee? From my youth up have I not loved thee? When thou wast little did I not nurture thee, and have we not gone down to war together and divided the cattle, girl by girl, ox by ox, and cow by cow? Why slayest thou me, my brother, son of my own mother?’ * ‘Then the man’s heart was heavy, and he knew that his .path was evil, and he put aside the tempting of the woman and ceased to make war on his brother, and 1 i ved at peace in the same kraal with him. And after a time the woman came to him and said. •I have lost the past, I will be thy wife.’ And in his heart he knew that it was a lie and that she thought the evil thing, yet because of his love did he take her to wife. ••And the very night that they were wed, when the man was plunged into a deep sleep, diu the woman arise and take his ax from his hand and crept into the hut of his brother and slay him in his rest. Then did she slink back like a gorged lioness and place the thong of the fed axback upon his wrist and go her ways.

“And at the dawning the people came shouting, ‘Lousta is slain in the night, ’ and they came unto the hut of the man and there he lay asleep, and by him was the red ax, Then did they re member the war and say, ‘Lo! he hath of a surety slain his brother,’ and they would have taken and killed him but he rose and fled swiftly, and as he fleeted by he slew the woman. “But death could not wipe out the evil she had done, and on him rested the weight of all her sin. Therefore is he an outcast and his name a scorn among his own people; for on him. and him only, resteth the burden of her who betrayed. And, therefore, docs he wander afar, without a kraal and without an ox ora wife, and therefore will he die afar like a stricken buck and his name be accursed from generation to generation, in that the people say that he slew his brother. Lousta, by treachery in the nighttime.”

To be Continued. The Samaria of To-day. From an illustrated article on “Some Wayside Places in Palestine, ” in the MarehCentury, we quote the following: “I am free to confess that I did not meet the proverbial good Samaritan as I journeyed through this muchfavored country. If one meets a tiller Of the soil he will sidle off as far as the narrow path will allow, and scowlingly watch the traveler’s approach. The offer of a piaster will bring him to a standstill. “‘How far is it to Nain?’ ‘“God knows,’ comes the fervent answer. , —*.— “’How long will it take to ,go

there?’ “‘As long as God pleases.’ he answers, with a shrug of his shoulders and a pull at a pipe. “ ‘Shall I reach there by noon?’ “ ‘lf God permit.’ “ ‘But may I hope to make the distance in an hour ? “ ‘As God may direct,’ he answers, walking away. - ' “ ‘ls Nain distant, or Is it very near? “•There,’he answers, moving his finger through a wide arc. If one extracts a more neighborly spirit than this from aSamaritan he must have the mysterious power of a dervish.”