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Black Heart and White Heart by H. Rider Haggard

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Etext prepared by John Bickers, jbickers@ihug.co.nz
Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com


by H. Rider Haggard


To the Memory of the Child

Nada Burnham,

who "bound all to her" and, while her father cut his way through
the hordes of the Ingobo Regiment, perished of the hardships of
war at Buluwayo on 19th May, 1896, I dedicate these tales--and
more particularly the last, that of a Faith which triumphed over
savagery and death.

H. Rider Haggard.



Of the three stories that comprise this volume[*], one, "The
Wizard," a tale of victorious faith, first appeared some years ago
as a Christmas Annual. Another, "Elissa," is an attempt, difficult
enough owing to the scantiness of the material left to us by time,
to recreate the life of the ancient Phnician Zimbabwe, whose
ruins still stand in Rhodesia, and, with the addition of the
necessary love story, to suggest circumstances such as might have
brought about or accompanied its fall at the hands of the
surrounding savage tribes. The third, "Black Heart and White
Heart," is a story of the courtship, trials and final union of a
pair of Zulu lovers in the time of King Cetywayo.

[*] This text was prepared from a volume published in 1900 titled
"Black Heart and White Heart, and Other Stories."--JB.





At the date of our introduction to him, Philip Hadden was a transport-
rider and trader in "the Zulu." Still on the right side of forty, in
appearance he was singularly handsome; tall, dark, upright, with keen
eyes, short-pointed beard, curling hair and clear-cut features. His
life had been varied, and there were passages in it which he did not
narrate even to his most intimate friends. He was of gentle birth,
however, and it was said that he had received a public school and
university education in England. At any rate he could quote the
classics with aptitude on occasion, an accomplishment which, coupled
with his refined voice and a bearing not altogether common in the wild
places of the world, had earned for him among his rough companions the
/soubriquet/ of "The Prince."

However these things may have been, it is certain that he had
emigrated to Natal under a cloud, and equally certain that his
relatives at home were content to take no further interest in his
fortunes. During the fifteen or sixteen years which he had spent in or
about the colony, Hadden followed many trades, and did no good at any
of them. A clever man, of agreeable and prepossessing manner, he
always found it easy to form friendships and to secure a fresh start
in life. But, by degrees, the friends were seized with a vague
distrust of him; and, after a period of more or less application, he
himself would close the opening that he had made by a sudden
disappearance from the locality, leaving behind him a doubtful
reputation and some bad debts.

Before the beginning of this story of the most remarkable episodes in
his life, Philip Hadden was engaged for several years in transport-
riding--that is, in carrying goods on ox waggons from Durban or
Maritzburg to various points in the interior. A difficulty such as had
more than once confronted him in the course of his career, led to his
temporary abandonment of this means of earning a livelihood. On
arriving at the little frontier town of Utrecht in the Transvaal, in
charge of two waggon loads of mixed goods consigned to a storekeeper
there, it was discovered that out of six cases of brandy five were
missing from his waggon. Hadden explained the matter by throwing the
blame upon his Kaffir "boys," but the storekeeper, a rough-tongued
man, openly called him a thief and refused to pay the freight on any
of the load. From words the two men came to blows, knives were drawn,
and before anybody could interfere the storekeeper received a nasty
wound in his side. That night, without waiting till the matter could
be inquired into by the landdrost or magistrate, Hadden slipped away,
and trekked back into Natal as quickly as his oxen would travel.
Feeling that even here he was not safe, he left one of his waggons at
Newcastle, loaded up the other with Kaffir goods--such as blankets,
calico, and hardware--and crossed into Zululand, where in those days
no sheriff's officer would be likely to follow him.

Being well acquainted with the language and customs of the natives, he
did good trade with them, and soon found himself possessed of some
cash and a small herd of cattle, which he received in exchange for his
wares. Meanwhile news reached him that the man whom he had injured
still vowed vengeance against him, and was in communication with the
authorities in Natal. These reasons making his return to civilisation
undesirable for the moment, and further business being impossible
until he could receive a fresh supply of trade stuff, Hadden like a
wise man turned his thoughts to pleasure. Sending his cattle and
waggon over the border to be left in charge of a native headman with
whom he was friendly, he went on foot to Ulundi to obtain permission
from the king, Cetywayo, to hunt game in his country. Somewhat to his
surprise, the Indunas or headmen, received him courteously--for
Hadden's visit took place within a few months of the outbreak of the
Zulu war in 1878, when Cetywayo was already showing unfriendliness to
the English traders and others, though why the king did so they knew

On the occasion of his first and last interview with Cetywayo, Hadden
got a hint of the reason. It happened thus. On the second morning
after his arrival at the royal kraal, a messenger came to inform him
that "the Elephant whose tread shook the earth" had signified that it
was his pleasure to see him. Accordingly he was led through the
thousands of huts and across the Great Place to the little enclosure
where Cetywayo, a royal-looking Zulu seated on a stool, and wearing a
kaross of leopard skins, was holding an /indaba/, or conference,
surrounded by his counsellors. The Induna who had conducted him to the
august presence went down upon his hands and knees, and, uttering the
royal salute of /Bayte/, crawled forward to announce that the white
man was waiting.

"Let him wait," said the king angrily; and, turning, he continued the
discussion with his counsellors.

Now, as has been said, Hadden thoroughly understood Zulu; and, when
from time to time the king raised his voice, some of the words he
spoke reached his ear.

"What!" Cetywayo said, to a wizened and aged man who seemed to be
pleading with him earnestly; "am I a dog that these white hyenas
should hunt me thus? Is not the land mine, and was it not my father's
before me? Are not the people mine to save or to slay? I tell you that
I will stamp out these little white men; my /impis/ shall eat them up.
I have said!"

Again the withered aged man interposed, evidently in the character of
a peacemaker. Hadden could not hear his talk, but he rose and pointed
towards the sea, while from his expressive gestures and sorrowful
mien, he seemed to be prophesying disaster should a certain course of
action be followed.

For a while the king listened to him, then he sprang from his seat,
his eyes literally ablaze with rage.

"Hearken," he cried to the counsellor; "I have guessed it for long,
and now I am sure of it. You are a traitor. You are Sompseu's[*] dog,
and the dog of the Natal Government, and I will not keep another man's
dog to bite me in my own house. Take him away!"

[*] Sir Theophilus Shepstone's.

A slight involuntary murmur rose from the ring of /indunas/, but the
old man never flinched, not even when the soldiers, who presently
would murder him, came and seized him roughly. For a few seconds,
perhaps five, he covered his face with the corner of the kaross he
wore, then he looked up and spoke to the king in a clear voice.

"O King," he said, "I am a very old man; as a youth I served under
Chaka the Lion, and I heard his dying prophecy of the coming of the
white man. Then the white men came, and I fought for Dingaan at the
battle of the Blood River. They slew Dingaan, and for many years I was
the counsellor of Panda, your father. I stood by you, O King, at the
battle of the Tugela, when its grey waters were turned to red with the
blood of Umbulazi your brother, and of the tens of thousands of his
people. Afterwards I became your counsellor, O King, and I was with
you when Sompseu set the crown upon your head and you made promises to
Sompseu--promises that you have not kept. Now you are weary of me, and
it is well; for I am very old, and doubtless my talk is foolish, as it
chances to the old. Yet I think that the prophecy of Chaka, your
great-uncle, will come true, and that the white men will prevail
against you and that through them you shall find your death. I would
that I might have stood in one more battle and fought for you, O King,
since fight you will, but the end which you choose is for me the best
end. Sleep in peace, O King, and farewell. /Bayte!/"[*]

[*] The royal salute of the Zulus.

For a space there was silence, a silence of expectation while men
waited to hear the tyrant reverse his judgment. But it did not please
him to be merciful, or the needs of policy outweighed his pity.

"Take him away," he repeated. Then, with a slow smile on his face and
one word, "Good-night," upon his lips, supported by the arm of a
soldier, the old warrior and statesman shuffled forth to the place of

Hadden watched and listened in amazement not unmixed with fear. "If he
treats his own servants like this, what will happen to me?" he
reflected. "We English must have fallen out of favour since I left
Natal. I wonder whether he means to make war on us or what? If so,
this isn't my place."

Just then the king, who had been gazing moodily at the ground, chanced
to look up. "Bring the stranger here," he said.

Hadden heard him, and coming forward offered Cetywayo his hand in as
cool and nonchalant a manner as he could command.

Somewhat to his surprise it was accepted. "At least, White Man," said
the king, glancing at his visitor's tall spare form and cleanly cut
face, "you are no '/umfagozan/' (low fellow); you are of the blood of

"Yes, King," answered Hadden, with a little sigh, "I am of the blood
of chiefs."

"What do you want in my country, White Man?"

"Very little, King. I have been trading here, as I daresay you have
heard, and have sold all my goods. Now I ask your leave to hunt
buffalo, and other big game, for a while before I return to Natal."

"I cannot grant it," answered Cetywayo, "you are a spy sent by
Sompseu, or by the Queen's Induna in Natal. Get you gone."

"Indeed," said Hadden, with a shrug of his shoulders; "then I hope
that Sompseu, or the Queen's Induna, or both of them, will pay me when
I return to my own country. Meanwhile I will obey you because I must,
but I should first like to make you a present."

"What present?" asked the king. "I want no presents. We are rich here,
White Man."

"So be it, King. It was nothing worthy of your taking, only a rifle."

"A rifle, White Man? Where is it?"

"Without. I would have brought it, but your servants told me that it
is death to come armed before the 'Elephant who shakes the Earth.'"

Cetywayo frowned, for the note of sarcasm did not escape his quick

"Let this white man's offering be brought; I will consider the thing."

Instantly the Induna who had accompanied Hadden darted to the gateway,
running with his body bent so low that it seemed as though at every
step he must fall upon his face. Presently he returned with the weapon
in his hand and presented it to the king, holding it so that the
muzzle was pointed straight at the royal breast.

"I crave leave to say, O Elephant," remarked Hadden in a drawling
voice, "that it might be well to command your servant to lift the
mouth of that gun from your heart."

"Why?" asked the king.

"Only because it is loaded, and at full cock, O Elephant, who probably
desires to continue to shake the Earth."

At these words the "Elephant" uttered a sharp exclamation, and rolled
from his stool in a most unkingly manner, whilst the terrified Induna,
springing backwards, contrived to touch the trigger of the rifle and
discharge a bullet through the exact spot that a second before had
been occupied by his monarch's head.

"Let him be taken away," shouted the incensed king from the ground,
but long before the words had passed his lips the Induna, with a cry
that the gun was bewitched, had cast it down and fled at full speed
through the gate.

"He has already taken himself away," suggested Hadden, while the
audience tittered. "No, King, do not touch it rashly; it is a
repeating rifle. Look----" and lifting the Winchester, he fired the
four remaining shots in quick succession into the air, striking the
top of a tree at which he aimed with every one of them.

"/Wow/, it is wonderful!" said the company in astonishment.

"Has the thing finished?" asked the king.

"For the present it has," answered Hadden. "Look at it."

Cetywayo took the repeater in his hand, and examined it with caution,
swinging the muzzle horizontally in an exact line with the stomachs of
some of his most eminent Indunas, who shrank to this side and that as
the barrel was brought to bear on them.

"See what cowards they are, White Man," said the king with
indignation; "they fear lest there should be another bullet in this

"Yes," answered Hadden, "they are cowards indeed. I believe that if
they were seated on stools they would tumble off them just as it
chanced to your Majesty to do just now."

"Do you understand the making of guns, White Man?" asked the king
hastily, while the Indunas one and all turned their heads, and
contemplated the fence behind them.

"No, King, I cannot make guns, but I can mend them."

"If I paid you well, White Man, would you stop here at my kraal, and
mend guns for me?" asked Cetywayo anxiously.

"It might depend on the pay," answered Hadden; "but for awhile I am
tired of work, and wish to rest. If the king gives me the permission
to hunt for which I asked, and men to go with me, then when I return
perhaps we can bargain on the matter. If not, I will bid the king
farewell, and journey to Natal."

"In order to make report of what he has seen and learned here,"
muttered Cetywayo.

At this moment the talk was interrupted, for the soldiers who had led
away the old Induna returned at speed, and prostrated themselves
before the king.

"Is he dead?" he asked.

"He has travelled the king's bridge," they answered grimly; "he died
singing a song of praise of the king."

"Good," said Cetywayo, "that stone shall hurt my feet no more. Go,
tell the tale of its casting away to Sompseu and to the Queen's Induna
in Natal," he added with bitter emphasis.

"/Baba!/ Hear our Father speak. Listen to the rumbling of the
Elephant," said the Indunas taking the point, while one bolder than
the rest added: "Soon we will tell them another tale, the white
Talking Ones, a red tale, a tale of spears, and the regiments shall
sing it in their ears."

At the words an enthusiasm caught hold of the listeners, as the sudden
flame catches hold of dry grass. They sprang up, for the most of them
were seated on their haunches, and stamping their feet upon the ground
in unison, repeated:--

/Indaba ibomwu--indaba ye mikonto
Lizo dunyiswa nge impi ndhlebeni yaho./
(A red tale! A red tale! A tale of spears,
And the /impis/ shall sing it in their ears.)

One of them, indeed, a great fierce-faced fellow, drew near to Hadden
and shaking his fist before his eyes--fortunately being in the royal
presence he had no assegai--shouted the sentences at him.

The king saw that the fire he had lit was burning too fiercely.

"Silence," he thundered in the deep voice for which he was remarkable,
and instantly each man became as if he were turned to stone, only the
echoes still answered back: "And the /impis/ shall sing it in their
ears--in their ears."

"I am growing certain that this is no place for me," thought Hadden;
"if that scoundrel had been armed he might have temporarily forgotten
himself. Hullo! who's this?"

Just then there appeared through the gate of the fence a splendid
specimen of the Zulu race. The man, who was about thirty-five years of
age, was arrayed in a full war dress of a captain of the Umcityu
regiment. From the circlet of otter skin on his brow rose his crest of
plumes, round his middle, arms and knees hung the long fringes of
black oxtails, and in one hand he bore a little dancing shield, also
black in colour. The other was empty, since he might not appear before
the king bearing arms. In countenance the man was handsome, and though
just now they betrayed some anxiety, his eyes were genial and honest,
and his mouth sensitive. In height he must have measured six foot two
inches, yet he did not strike the observer as being tall, perhaps
because of his width of chest and the solidity of his limbs, that were
in curious contrast to the delicate and almost womanish hands and feet
which so often mark the Zulu of noble blood. In short the man was what
he seemed to be, a savage gentleman of birth, dignity and courage.

In company with him was another man plainly dressed in a moocha and a
blanket, whose grizzled hair showed him to be over fifty years of age.
His face also was pleasant and even refined, but the eyes were
timorous, and the mouth lacked character.

"Who are these?" asked the king.

The two men fell on their knees before him, and bowed till their
foreheads touched the ground--the while giving him his /sibonga/ or
titles of praise.

"Speak," he said impatiently.

"O King," said the young warrior, seating himself Zulu fashion, "I am
Nahoon, the son of Zomba, a captain of the Umcityu, and this is my
uncle Umgona, the brother of one of my mothers, my father's youngest

Cetywayo frowned. "What do you here away from your regiment, Nahoon?"

"May it please the king, I have leave of absence from the head
captains, and I come to ask a boon of the king's bounty."

"Be swift, then, Nahoon."

"It is this, O King," said the captain with some embarrassment: "A
while ago the king was pleased to make a /keshla/ of me because of
certain service that I did out yonder----" and he touched the black
ring which he wore in the hair of his head. "Being now a ringed man
and a captain, I crave the right of a man at the hands of the king--
the right to marry."

"Right? Speak more humbly, son of Zomba; my soldiers and my cattle
have no rights."

Nahoon bit his lip, for he had made a serious mistake.

"Pardon, O King. The matter stands thus: My uncle Umgona here has a
fair daughter named Nanea, whom I desire to wife, and who desires me
to husband. Awaiting the king's leave I am betrothed to her and in
earnest of it I have paid to Umgona a /lobola/ of fifteen head of
cattle, cows and calves together. But Umgona has a powerful neighbour,
an old chief named Maputa, the warden of the Crocodile Drift, who
doubtless is known to the king, and this chief also seeks Nanea in
marriage and harries Umgona, threatening him with many evils if he
will not give the girl to him. But Umgona's heart is white towards me,
and towards Maputa it is black, therefore together we come to crave
this boon of the king."

"It is so; he speaks the truth," said Umgona.

"Cease," answered Cetywayo angrily. "Is this a time that my soldiers
should seek wives in marriage, wives to turn their hearts to water?
Know that but yesterday for this crime I commanded that twenty girls
who had dared without my leave to marry men of the Undi regiment,
should be strangled and their bodies laid upon the cross-roads and
with them the bodies of their fathers, that all might know their sin
and be warned thereby. Ay, Umgona, it is well for you and for your
daughter that you sought my word before she was given in marriage to
this man. Now this is my award: I refuse your prayer, Nahoon, and
since you, Umgona, are troubled with one whom you would not take as
son-in-law, the old chief Maputa, I will free you from his
importunity. The girl, says Nahoon, is fair--good, I myself will be
gracious to her, and she shall be numbered among the wives of the
royal house. Within thirty days from now, in the week of the next new
moon, let her be delivered to the /Sigodhla/, the royal house of the
women, and with her those cattle, the cows and the calves together,
that Nahoon has given you, of which I fine him because he has dared to
think of marriage without the leave of the king."



"'A Daniel come to judgment' indeed," reflected Hadden, who had been
watching this savage comedy with interest; "our love-sick friend has
got more than he bargained for. Well, that comes of appealing to
Csar," and he turned to look at the two suppliants.

The old man, Umgona, merely started, then began to pour out sentences
of conventional thanks and praise to the king for his goodness and
condescension. Cetywayo listened to his talk in silence, and when he
had done answered by reminding him tersely that if Nanea did not
appear at the date named, both she and he, her father, would in due
course certainly decorate a cross-road in their own immediate

The captain, Nahoon, afforded a more curious study. As the fatal words
crossed the king's lips, his face took an expression of absolute
astonishment, which was presently replaced by one of fury--the just
fury of a man who suddenly has suffered an unutterable wrong. His
whole frame quivered, the veins stood out in knots on his neck and
forehead, and his fingers closed convulsively as though they were
grasping the handle of a spear. Presently the rage passed away--for as
well might a man be wroth with fate as with a Zulu despot--to be
succeeded by a look of the most hopeless misery. The proud dark eyes
grew dull, the copper-coloured face sank in and turned ashen, the
mouth drooped, and down one corner of it there trickled a little line
of blood springing from the lip bitten through in the effort to keep
silence. Lifting his hand in salute to the king, the great man rose
and staggered rather than walked towards the gate.

As he reached it, the voice of Cetywayo commanded him to stop. "Stay,"
he said, "I have a service for you, Nahoon, that shall drive out of
your head these thoughts of wives and marriage. You see this white man
here; he is my guest, and would hunt buffalo and big game in the bush
country. I put him in your charge; take men with you, and see that he
comes to no hurt. So also that you bring him before me within a month,
or your life shall answer for it. Let him be here at my royal kraal in
the first week of the new moon--when Nanea comes--and then I will tell
you whether or no I agree with you that she is fair. Go now, my child,
and you, White Man, go also; those who are to accompany you shall be
with you at the dawn. Farewell, but remember we meet again at the new
moon, when we will settle what pay you shall receive as keeper of my
guns. Do not fail me, White Man, or I shall send after you, and my
messengers are sometimes rough."

"This means that I am a prisoner," thought Hadden, "but it will go
hard if I cannot manage to give them the slip somehow. I don't intend
to stay in this country if war is declared, to be pounded into /mouti/
(medicine), or have my eyes put out, or any little joke of that sort."


Ten days had passed, and one evening Hadden and his escort were
encamped in a wild stretch of mountainous country lying between the
Blood and Unvunyana Rivers, not more than eight miles from that "Place
of the Little Hand" which within a few weeks was to become famous
throughout the world by its native name of Isandhlwana. For three days
they had been tracking the spoor of a small herd of buffalo that still
inhabited the district, but as yet they had not come up with them. The
Zulu hunters had suggested that they should follow the Unvunyana down
towards the sea where game was more plentiful, but this neither
Hadden, nor the captain, Nahoon, had been anxious to do, for reasons
which each of them kept secret to himself. Hadden's object was to work
gradually down to the Buffalo River across which he hoped to effect a
retreat into Natal. That of Nahoon was to linger in the neighbourhood
of the kraal of Umgona, which was situated not very far from their
present camping place, in the vague hope that he might find an
opportunity of speaking with or at least of seeing Nanea, the girl to
whom he was affianced, who within a few weeks must be taken from him,
and given over to the king.

A more eerie-looking spot than that where they were encamped Hadden
had never seen. Behind them lay a tract of land--half-swamp and half-
bush--in which the buffalo were supposed to be hiding. Beyond, in
lonely grandeur, rose the mountain of Isandhlwana, while in front was
an amphitheatre of the most gloomy forest, ringed round in the
distance by sheer-sided hills. Into this forest there ran a river
which drained the swamp, placidly enough upon the level. But it was
not always level, for within three hundred yards of them it dashed
suddenly over a precipice, of no great height but very steep, falling
into a boiling rock-bound pool that the light of the sun never seemed
to reach.

"What is the name of that forest, Nahoon?" asked Hadden.

"It is named /Emagudu/, The Home of the Dead," the Zulu replied
absently, for he was looking towards the kraal of Nanea, which was
situated at an hour's walk away over the ridge to the right.

"The Home of the Dead! Why?"

"Because the dead live there, those whom we name the /Esemkofu/, the
Speechless Ones, and with them other Spirits, the /Amahlosi/, from
whom the breath of life has passed away, and who yet live on."

"Indeed," said Hadden, "and have you ever seen these ghosts?"

"Am I mad that I should go to look for them, White Man? Only the dead
enter that forest, and it is on the borders of it that our people make
offerings to the dead."

Followed by Nahoon, Hadden walked to the edge of the cliff and looked
over it. To the left lay the deep and dreadful-looking pool, while
close to the bank of it, placed upon a narrow strip of turf between
the cliff and the commencement of the forest, was a hut.

"Who lives there?" asked Hadden.

"The great /Isanusi/--she who is named /Inyanga/ or Doctoress; she who
is named Inyosi (the Bee), because she gathers wisdom from the dead
who grow in the forest."

"Do you think that she could gather enough wisdom to tell me whether I
am going to kill any buffalo, Nahoon?"

"Mayhap, White Man, but," he added with a little smile, "those who
visit the Bee's hive may hear nothing, or they may hear more than they
wish for. The words of that Bee have a sting."

"Good; I will see if she can sting me."

"So be it," said Nahoon; and turning, he led the way along the cliff
till he reached a native path which zig-zagged down its face.

By this path they climbed till they came to the sward at the foot of
the descent, and walked up it to the hut which was surrounded by a low
fence of reeds, enclosing a small court-yard paved with ant-heap earth
beaten hard and polished. In this court-yard sat the Bee, her stool
being placed almost at the mouth of the round opening that served as a
doorway to the hut. At first all that Hadden could see of her,
crouched as she was in the shadow, was a huddled shape wrapped round
with a greasy and tattered catskin kaross, above the edge of which
appeared two eyes, fierce and quick as those of a leopard. At her feet
smouldered a little fire, and ranged around it in a semi-circle were a
number of human skulls, placed in pairs as though they were talking
together, whilst other bones, to all appearance also human, were
festooned about the hut and the fence of the courtyard.

"I see that the old lady is set up with the usual properties," thought
Hadden, but he said nothing.

Nor did the witch-doctoress say anything; she only fixed her beady
eyes upon his face. Hadden returned the compliment, staring at her
with all his might, till suddenly he became aware that he was
vanquished in this curious duel. His brain grew confused, and to his
fancy it seemed that the woman before him had shifted shape into the
likeness of colossal and horrid spider sitting at the mouth of her
trap, and that these bones were the relics of her victims.

"Why do you not speak, White Man?" she said at last in a slow clear
voice. "Well, there is no need, since I can read your thoughts. You
are thinking that I who am called the Bee should be better named the
Spider. Have no fear; I did not kill these men. What would it profit
me when the dead are so many? I suck the souls of men, not their
bodies, White Man. It is their living hearts I love to look on, for
therein I read much and thereby I grow wise. Now what would you of the
Bee, White Man, the Bee that labours in this Garden of Death, and--
what brings /you/ here, son of Zomba? Why are you not with the Umcityu
now that they doctor themselves for the great war--the last war--the
war of the white and the black--or if you have no stomach for
fighting, why are you not at the side of Nanea the tall, Nanea the

Nahoon made no answer, but Hadden said:--

"A small thing, mother. I would know if I shall prosper in my

"In your hunting, White Man; what hunting? The hunting of game, of
money, or of women? Well, one of them, for a-hunting you must ever be;
that is your nature, to hunt and be hunted. Tell me now, how goes the
wound of that trader who tasted of your steel yonder in the town of
the Maboon (Boers)? No need to answer, White Man, but what fee, Chief,
for the poor witch-doctoress whose skill you seek," she added in a
whining voice. "Surely you would not that an old woman should work
without a fee?"

"I have none to offer you, mother, so I will be going," said Hadden,
who began to feel himself satisfied with this display of the Bee's
powers of observation and thought-reading.

"Nay," she answered with an unpleasant laugh, "would you ask a
question, and not wait for the answer? I will take no fee from you at
present, White Man; you shall pay me later on when we meet again," and
once more she laughed. "Let me look in your face, let me look in your
face," she continued, rising and standing before him.

Then of a sudden Hadden felt something cold at the back of his neck,
and the next instant the Bee had sprung from him, holding between her
thumb and finger a curl of dark hair which she had cut from his head.
The action was so instantaneous that he had neither time to avoid nor
to resent it, but stood still staring at her stupidly.

"That is all I need," she cried, "for like my heart my magic is white.
Stay--son of Zomba, give me also of your hair, for those who visit the
Bee must listen to her humming."

Nahoon obeyed, cutting a little lock from his head with the sharp edge
of his assegai, though it was very evident that he did this not
because he wished to do so, but because he feared to refuse.

Then the Bee slipped back her kaross, and stood bending over the fire
before them, into which she threw herbs taken from a pouch that was
bound about her middle. She was still a finely-shaped woman, and she
wore none of the abominations which Hadden had been accustomed to see
upon the persons of witch-doctoresses. About her neck, however, was a
curious ornament, a small live snake, red and grey in hue, which her
visitors recognised as one of the most deadly to be found in that part
of the country. It is not unusual for Bantu witch-doctors thus to
decorate themselves with snakes, though whether or not their fangs
have first been extracted no one seems to know.

Presently the herbs began to smoulder, and the smoke of them rose up
in a thin, straight stream, that, striking upon the face of the Bee,
clung about her head enveloping it as though with a strange blue veil.
Then of a sudden she stretched out her hands, and let fall the two
locks of hair upon the burning herbs, where they writhed themselves to
ashes like things alive. Next she opened her mouth, and began to draw
the fumes of the hair and herbs into her lungs in great gulps; while
the snake, feeling the influence of the medicine, hissed and,
uncoiling itself from about her neck, crept upwards and took refuge
among the black /saccaboola/ feathers of her head-dress.

Soon the vapours began to do their work; she swayed to and fro
muttering, then sank back against the hut, upon the straw of which her
head rested. Now the Bee's face was turned upwards towards the light,
and it was ghastly to behold, for it had become blue in colour, and
the open eyes were sunken like the eyes of one dead, whilst above her
forehead the red snake wavered and hissed, reminding Hadden of the
Uraeus crest on the brow of statues of Egyptian kings. For ten seconds
or more she remained thus, then she spoke in a hollow and unnatural

"O Black Heart and body that is white and beautiful, I look into your
heart, and it is black as blood, and it shall be black with blood.
Beautiful white body with black heart, you shall find your game and
hunt it, and it shall lead you into the House of the Homeless, into
the Home of the Dead, and it shall be shaped as a bull, it shall be
shaped as a tiger, it shall be shaped as a woman whom kings and waters
cannot harm. Beautiful white body and black heart, you shall be paid
your wages, money for money, and blow for blow. Think of my word when
the spotted cat purrs above your breast; think of it when the battle
roars about you; think of it when you grasp your great reward, and for
the last time stand face to face with the ghost of the dead in the
Home of the Dead.

"O White Heart and black body, I look into your heart and it is white
as milk, and the milk of innocence shall save it. Fool, why do you
strike that blow? Let him be who is loved of the tiger, and whose love
is as the love of a tiger. Ah! what face is that in the battle? Follow
it, follow it, O swift of foot; but follow warily, for the tongue that
has lied will never plead for mercy, and the hand that can betray is
strong in war. White Heart, what is death? In death life lives, and
among the dead you shall find the life you lost, for there awaits you
she whom kings and waters cannot harm."

As the Bee spoke, by degrees her voice sank lower and lower till it
was almost inaudible. Then it ceased altogether and she seemed to pass
from trance to sleep. Hadden, who had been listening to her with an
amused and cynical smile, now laughed aloud.

"Why do you laugh, White Man?" asked Nahoon angrily.

"I laugh at my own folly in wasting time listening to the nonsense of
that lying fraud."

"It is no nonsense, White Man."

"Indeed? Then will you tell me what it means?"

"I cannot tell you what it means yet, but her words have to do with a
woman and a leopard, and with your fate and my fate."

Hadden shrugged his shoulders, not thinking the matter worth further
argument, and at that moment the Bee woke up shivering, drew the red
snake from her head-dress and coiling it about her throat wrapped
herself again in the greasy kaross.

"Are you satisfied with my wisdom, /Inkoos/?" she asked of Hadden.

"I am satisfied that you are one of the cleverest cheats in Zululand,
mother," he answered coolly. "Now, what is there to pay?"

The Bee took no offence at this rude speech, though for a second or
two the look in her eyes grew strangely like that which they had seen
in those of the snake when the fumes of the fire made it angry.

"If the white lord says I am a cheat, it must be so," she answered,
"for he of all men should be able to discern a cheat. I have said that
I ask no fee;--yes, give me a little tobacco from your pouch."

Hadden opened the bag of antelope hide and drawing some tobacco from
it, gave it to her. In taking it she clasped his hand and examined the
gold ring that was upon the third finger, a ring fashioned like a
snake with two little rubies set in the head to represent the eyes.

"I wear a snake about my neck, and you wear one upon your hand,
/Inkoos/. I should like to have this ring to wear upon my hand, so
that the snake about my neck may be less lonely there."

"Then I am afraid you will have to wait till I am dead," said Hadden.

"Yes, yes," she answered in a pleased voice, "it is a good word. I
will wait till you are dead and then I will take the ring, and none
can say that I have stolen it, for Nahoon there will bear me witness
that you gave me permission to do so."

For the first time Hadden started, since there was something about the
Bee's tone that jarred upon him. Had she addressed him in her
professional manner, he would have thought nothing of it; but in her
cupidity she had become natural, and it was evident that she spoke
from conviction, believing her own words.

She saw him start, and instantly changed her note.

"Let the white lord forgive the jest of a poor old witch-doctoress,"
she said in a whining voice. "I have so much to do with Death that his
name leaps to my lips," and she glanced first at the circle of skulls
about her, then towards the waterfall that fed the gloomy pool upon
whose banks her hut was placed.

"Look," she said simply.

Following the line of her outstretched hand Hadden's eyes fell upon
two withered mimosa trees which grew over the fall almost at right
angles to its rocky edge. These trees were joined together by a rude
platform made of logs of wood lashed down with /riems/ of hide. Upon
this platform stood three figures; notwithstanding the distance and
the spray of the fall, he could see that they were those of two men
and a girl, for their shapes stood out distinctly against the fiery
red of the sunset sky. One instant there were three, the next there
were two--for the girl had gone, and something dark rushing down the
face of the fall, struck the surface of the pool with a heavy thud,
while a faint and piteous cry broke upon his ear.

"What is the meaning of that?" he asked, horrified and amazed.

"Nothing," answered the Bee with a laugh. "Do you not know, then, that
this is the place where faithless women, or girls who have loved
without the leave of the king, are brought to meet their death, and
with them their accomplices. Oh! they die here thus each day, and I
watch them die and keep the count of the number of them," and drawing
a tally-stick from the thatch of the hut, she took a knife and added a
notch to the many that appeared upon it, looking at Nahoon the while
with a half-questioning, half-warning gaze.

"Yes, yes, it is a place of death," she muttered. "Up yonder the quick
die day by day and down there"--and she pointed along the course of
the river beyond the pool to where the forest began some two hundred
yards from her hut--"the ghosts of them have their home. Listen!"

As she spoke, a sound reached their ears that seemed to swell from the
dim skirts of the forests, a peculiar and unholy sound which it is
impossible to define more accurately than by saying that it seemed
beastlike, and almost inarticulate.

"Listen," repeated the Bee, "they are merry yonder."

"Who?" asked Hadden; "the baboons?"

"No, /Inkoos/, the /Amatongo/--the ghosts that welcome her who has
just become of their number."

"Ghosts," said Hadden roughly, for he was angry at his own tremors, "I
should like to see those ghosts. Do you think that I have never heard
a troop of monkeys in the bush before, mother? Come, Nahoon, let us be
going while there is light to climb the cliff. Farewell."

"Farewell /Inkoos/, and doubt not that your wish will be fulfilled. Go
in peace /Inkoos/--to sleep in peace."



The prayer of the Bee notwithstanding, Philip Hadden slept ill that
night. He felt in the best of health, and his conscience was not
troubling him more than usual, but rest he could not. Whenever he
closed his eyes, his mind conjured up a picture of the grim witch-
doctoress, so strangely named the Bee, and the sound of her evil-
omened words as he had heard them that afternoon. He was neither a
superstitious nor a timid man, and any supernatural beliefs that might
linger in his mind were, to say the least of it, dormant. But do what
he might, he could not shake off a certain eerie sensation of fear,
lest there should be some grains of truth in the prophesyings of this
hag. What if it were a fact that he was near his death, and that the
heart which beat so strongly in his breast must soon be still for ever
--no, he would not think of it. This gloomy place, and the dreadful
sight which he saw that day, had upset his nerves. The domestic
customs of these Zulus were not pleasant, and for his part he was
determined to be clear of them so soon as he was able to escape the

In fact, if he could in any way manage it, it was his intention to
make a dash for the border on the following night. To do this with a
good prospect of success, however, it was necessary that he should
kill a buffalo, or some other head of game. Then, as he knew well, the
hunters with him would feast upon meat until they could scarcely stir,
and that would be his opportunity. Nahoon, however, might not succumb
to this temptation; therefore he must trust to luck to be rid of him.
If it came to the worst, he could put a bullet through him, which he
considered he would be justified in doing, seeing that in reality the
man was his jailor. Should this necessity arise, he felt indeed that
he could face it without undue compunction, for in truth he disliked
Nahoon; at times he even hated him. Their natures were antagonistic,
and he knew that the great Zulu distrusted and looked down upon him,
and to be looked down upon by a savage "nigger" was more than his
pride could stomach.

At the first break of dawn Hadden rose and roused his escort, who were
still stretched in sleep around the dying fire, each man wrapped in
his kaross or blanket. Nahoon stood up and shook himself, looking
gigantic in the shadows of the morning.

"What is your will, /Umlungu/ (white man), that you are up before the

"My will, /Muntumpofu/ (yellow man), is to hunt buffalo," answered
Hadden coolly. It irritated him that this savage should give him no
title of any sort.

"Your pardon," said the Zulu reading his thoughts, "but I cannot call
you /Inkoos/ because you are not my chief, or any man's; still if the
title 'white man' offends you, we will give you a name."

"As you wish," answered Hadden briefly.

Accordingly they gave him a name, /Inhlizin-mgama/, by which he was
known among them thereafter, but Hadden was not best pleased when he
found that the meaning of those soft-sounding syllables was "Black
Heart." That was how the /inyanga/ had addressed him--only she used
different words.

An hour later, and they were in the swampy bush country that lay
behind the encampment searching for their game. Within a very little
while Nahoon held up his hand, then pointed to the ground. Hadden
looked; there, pressed deep in the marshy soil, and to all appearance
not ten minutes old, was the spoor of a small herd of buffalo.

"I knew that we should find game to-day," whispered Nahoon, "because
the Bee said so."

"Curse the Bee," answered Hadden below his breath. "Come on."

For a quarter of an hour or more they followed the spoor through thick
reeds, till suddenly Nahoon whistled very softly and touched Hadden's
arm. He looked up, and there, about two hundred yards away, feeding on
some higher ground among a patch if mimosa trees, were the buffaloes--
six of them--an old bull with a splendid head, three cows, a heifer
and a calf about four months old. Neither the wind nor the nature of
the veldt were favourable for them to stalk the game from their
present position, so they made a detour of half a mile and very
carefully crept towards them up the wind, slipping from trunk to trunk
of the mimosas and when these failed them, crawling on their stomachs
under cover of the tall /tambuti/ grass. At last they were within
forty yards, and a further advance seemed impracticable; for although
he could not smell them, it was evident from his movements that the
old bull heard some unusual sound and was growing suspicious. Nearest
to Hadden, who alone of the party had a rifle, stood the heifer
broadside on--a beautiful shot. Remembering that she would make the
best beef, he lifted his Martini, and aiming at her immediately behind
the shoulder, gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle exploded, and the
heifer fell dead, shot through the heart. Strangely enough the other
buffaloes did not at once run away. On the contrary, they seemed
puzzled to account for the sudden noise; and, not being able to wind
anything, lifted their heads and stared round them.

The pause gave Hadden space to get in a fresh cartridge and to aim
again, this time at the old bull. The bullet struck him somewhere in
the neck or shoulder, for he came to his knees, but in another second
was up and having caught sight of the cloud of smoke he charged
straight at it. Because of this smoke, or for some other reason,
Hadden did not see him coming, and in consequence would most certainly
have been trampled or gored, had not Nahoon sprung forward, at the
imminent risk of his own life, and dragged him down behind an ant-
heap. A moment more and the great beast had thundered by, taking no
further notice of them.

"Forward," said Hadden, and leaving most of the men to cut up the
heifer and carry the best of her meat to camp, they started on the
blood spoor.

For some hours they followed the bull, till at last they lost the
trail on a patch of stony ground thickly covered with bush, and
exhausted by the heat, sat down to rest and to eat some /biltong/ or
sun-dried flesh which they had with them. They finished their meal,
and were preparing to return to the camp, when one of the four Zulus
who were with them went to drink at a little stream that ran at a
distance of not more than ten paces away. Half a minute later they
heard a hideous grunting noise and a splashing of water, and saw the
Zulu fly into the air. All the while that they were eating, the
wounded buffalo had been lying in wait for them under a thick bush on
the banks of the streamlet, knowing--cunning brute that he was--that
sooner or later his turn would come. With a shout of consternation
they rushed forward to see the bull vanish over the rise before Hadden
could get a chance of firing at him, and to find their companion
dying, for the great horn had pierced his lung.

"It is not a buffalo, it is a devil," the poor fellow gasped, and

"Devil or not, I mean to kill it," exclaimed Hadden. So leaving the
others to carry the body of their comrade to camp, he started on
accompanied by Nahoon only. Now the ground was more open and the chase
easier, for they sighted their quarry frequently, though they could
not come near enough to fire. Presently they travelled down a steep

"Do you know where we are?" asked Nahoon, pointing to a belt of forest
opposite. "That is /Emagudu/, the Home of the Dead--and look, the bull
heads thither."

Hadden glanced round him. It was true; yonder to the left were the
Fall, the Pool of Doom, and the hut of the Bee.

"Very well," he answered; "then we must head for it too."

Nahoon halted. "Surely you would not enter there," he exclaimed.

"Surely I will," replied Hadden, "but there is no need for you to do
so if you are afraid."

"I am afraid--of ghosts," said the Zulu, "but I will come."

So they crossed the strip of turf, and entered the haunted wood. It
was a gloomy place indeed; the great wide-topped trees grew thick
there shutting out the sight of the sky; moreover, the air in it which
no breeze stirred, was heavy with the exhalations of rotting foliage.
There seemed to be no life here and no sound--only now and again a
loathsome spotted snake would uncoil itself and glide away, and now
and again a heavy rotten bough fell with a crash.

Hadden was too intent upon the buffalo, however, to be much impressed
by his surroundings. He only remarked that the light would be bad for
shooting, and went on.

They must have penetrated a mile or more into the forest when the
sudden increase of blood upon the spoor told them that the bull's
wound was proving fatal to him.

"Run now," said Hadden cheerfully.

"Nay, /hamba gachle/--go softly--" answered Nahoon, "the devil is
dying, but he will try to play us another trick before he dies." And
he went on peering ahead of him cautiously.

"It is all right here, anyway," said Hadden, pointing to the spoor
that ran straight forward printed deep in the marshy ground.

Nahoon did not answer, but stared steadily at the trunks of two trees
a few paces in front of them and to their right. "Look," he whispered.

Hadden did so, and at length made out the outline of something brown
that was crouched behind the trees.

"He is dead," he exclaimed.

"No," answered Nahoon, "he has come back on his own path and is
waiting for us. He knows that we are following his spoor. Now if you
stand there, I think that you can shoot him through the back between
the tree trunks."

Hadden knelt down, and aiming very carefully at a point just below the
bull's spine, he fired. There was an awful bellow, and the next
instant the brute was up and at them. Nahoon flung his broad spear,
which sank deep into its chest, then they fled this way and that. The
buffalo stood still for a moment, its fore legs straddled wide and its
head down, looking first after the one and then the other, till of a
sudden it uttered a low moaning sound and rolled over dead, smashing
Nahoon's assegai to fragments as it fell.

"There! he's finished," said Hadden, "and I believe it was your
assegai that killed him. Hullo! what's that noise?"

Nahoon listened. In several quarters of the forest, but from how far
away it was impossible to tell, there rose a curious sound, as of
people calling to each other in fear but in no articulate language.
Nahoon shivered.

"It is the /Esemkofu/," he said, "the ghosts who have no tongue, and
who can only wail like infants. Let us be going; this place is bad for

"And worse for buffaloes," said Hadden, giving the dead bull a kick,
"but I suppose that we must leave him here for your friends, the
/Esemkofu/, as we have got meat enough, and can't carry his head."

So they started back towards the open country. As they threaded their
way slowly through the tree trunks, a new idea came into Hadden's
head. Once out of this forest, he was within an hour's run of the Zulu
border, and once over the Zulu border, he would feel a happier man
than he did at that moment. As has been said, he had intended to
attempt to escape in the darkness, but the plan was risky. All the
Zulus might not over-eat themselves and go to sleep, especially after
the death of their comrade; Nahoon, who watched him day and night,
certainly would not. This was his opportunity--there remained the
question of Nahoon.

Well, if it came to the worst, Nahoon must die: it would be easy--he
had a loaded rifle, and now that his assegai was gone, Nahoon had only
a kerry. He did not wish to kill the man, though it was clear to him,
seeing that his own safety was at stake, that he would be amply
justified in so doing. Why should he not put it to him--and then be
guided by circumstances?

Nahoon was walking across a little open space about ten spaces ahead
of him where Hadden could see him very well, whilst he himself was
under the shadow of a large tree with low horizontal branches running
out from the trunk.

"Nahoon," he said.

The Zulu turned round, and took a step towards him.

"No, do not move, I pray. Stand where you are, or I shall be obliged
to shoot you. Listen now: do not be afraid for I shall not fire
without warning. I am your prisoner, and you are charged to take me
back to the king to be his servant. But I believe that a war is going
to break out between your people and mine; and this being so, you will
understand that I do not wish to go to Cetywayo's kraal, because I
should either come to a violent death there, or my own brothers will
believe that I am a traitor and treat me accordingly. The Zulu border
is not much more than an hour's journey away--let us say an hour and a
half's: I mean to be across it before the moon is up. Now, Nahoon,
will you lose me in the forest and give me this hour and a half's
start--or will you stop here with that ghost people of whom you talk?
Do you understand? No, please do not move."

"I understand you," answered the Zulu, in a perfectly composed voice,
"and I think that was a good name which we gave you this morning,
though, Black Heart, there is some justice in your words and more
wisdom. Your opportunity is good, and one which a man named as you are
should not let fall."

"I am glad to find that you take this view of the matter, Nahoon. And
now will you be so kind as to lose me, and to promise not to look for
me till the moon is up?"

"What do you mean, Black Heart?"

"What I say. Come, I have no time to spare."

"You are a strange man," said the Zulu reflectively. "You heard the
king's order to me: would you have me disobey the order of the king?"

"Certainly, I would. You have no reason to love Cetywayo, and it does
not matter to you whether or no I return to his kraal to mend guns
there. If you think that he will be angry because I am missing, you
had better cross the border also; we can go together."

"And leave my father and all my brethren to his vengeance? Black
Heart, you do not understand. How can you, being so named? I am a
soldier, and the king's word is the king's word. I hoped to have died
fighting, but I am the bird in your noose. Come, shoot, or you will
not reach the border before moonrise," and he opened his arms and

"If it must be, so let it be. Farewell, Nahoon, at least you are a
brave man, but every one of us must cherish his own life," answered
Hadden calmly.

Then with much deliberation he raised his rifle and covered the Zulu's

Already--whilst his victim stood there still smiling, although a
twitching of his lips betrayed the natural terrors that no bravery can
banish--already his finger was contracting on the trigger, when of a
sudden, as instantly as though he had been struck by lightning, Hadden
went down backwards, and behold! there stood upon him a great spotted
beast that waved its long tail to and fro and glared down into his

It was a leopard--a tiger as they call it in Africa--which, crouched
upon a bough of the tree above, had been unable to resist the
temptation of satisfying its savage appetite on the man below. For a
second or two there was silence, broken only by the purring, or rather
the snoring sound made by the leopard. In those seconds, strangely
enough, there sprang up before Hadden's mental vision a picture of the
/inyanga/ called /Inyosi/ or the Bee, her death-like head resting
against the thatch of the hut, and her death-like lips muttering
"think of my word when the great cat purrs above your face."

Then the brute put out its strength. The claws of one paw it drove
deep into the muscles of his left thigh, while with another it
scratched at his breast, tearing the clothes from it and furrowing the
flesh beneath. The sight of the white skin seemed to madden it, and in
its fierce desire for blood it drooped its square muzzle and buried
its fangs in its victim's shoulder. Next moment there was a sound of
running feet and of a club falling heavily. Up reared the leopard with
an angry snarl, up till it stood as high as the attacking Zulu. At him
it came, striking out savagely and tearing the black man as it had
torn the white. Again the kerry fell full on its jaws, and down it
went backwards. Before it could rise again, or rather as it was in the
act of rising, the heavy knob-stick struck it once more, and with
fearful force, this time as it chanced, full on the nape of the neck,
and paralysing the brute. It writhed and bit and twisted, throwing up
the earth and leaves, while blow after blow was rained upon it, till
at length with a convulsive struggle and a stifled roar it lay still--
the brains oozing from its shattered skull.

Hadden sat up, the blood running from his wounds.

"You have saved my life, Nahoon," he said faintly, "and I thank you."

"Do not thank me, Black Heart," answered the Zulu, "it was the king's
word that I should keep you safely. Still this tiger has been hardly
dealt with, for certainly /he/ has saved /my/ life," and lifting the
Martini he unloaded the rifle.

At this juncture Hadden swooned away.


Twenty-four hours had gone by when, after what seemed to him to be but
a little time of troubled and dreamful sleep, through which he could
hear voices without understanding what they said, and feel himself
borne he knew not whither, Hadden awoke to find himself lying upon a
kaross in a large and beautifully clean Kaffir hut with a bundle of
furs for a pillow. There was a bowl of milk at his side and tortured
as he was by thirst, he tried to stretch out his arm to lift it to his
lips, only to find to his astonishment that his hand fell back to his
side like that of a dead man. Looking round the hut impatiently, he
found that there was nobody in it to assist him, so he did the only
thing which remained for him to do--he lay still. He did not fall
asleep, but his eyes closed, and a kind of gentle torpor crept over
him, half obscuring his recovered senses. Presently he heard a soft
voice speaking; it seemed far away, but he could clearly distinguish
the words.

"Black Heart still sleeps," the voice said, "but there is colour in
his face; I think that he will wake soon, and find his thoughts

"Have no fear, Nanea, he will surely wake, his hurts are not
dangerous," answered another voice, that of Nahoon. "He fell heavily
with the weight of the tiger on top of him, and that is why his senses
have been shaken for so long. He went near to death, but certainly he
will not die."

"It would have been a pity if he had died," answered the soft voice,
"he is so beautiful; never have I seen a white man who was so

"I did not think him beautiful when he stood with his rifle pointed at
my heart," answered Nahoon sulkily.

"Well, there is this to be said," she replied, "he wished to escape
from Cetywayo, and that is not to be wondered at," and she sighed.
"Moreover he asked you to come with him, and it might have been well
if you had done so, that is, if you would have taken me with you!"

"How could I have done it, girl?" he asked angrily. "Would you have me
set at nothing the order of the king?"

"The king!" she replied raising her voice. "What do you owe to this
king? You have served him faithfully, and your reward is that within a
few days he will take me from you--me, who should have been your wife,
and I must--I must----" And she began to weep softly, adding between
her sobs, "if you loved me truly, you would think more of me and of
yourself, and less of the Black One and his orders. Oh! let us fly,
Nahoon, let us fly to Natal before this spear pierces me."

"Weep not, Nanea," he said; "why do you tear my heart in two between
my duty and my love? You know that I am a soldier, and that I must
walk the path whereon the king has set my feet. Soon I think I shall
be dead, for I seek death, and then it will matter nothing."

"Nothing to you, Nahoon, who are at peace, but to me? Yet, you are
right, and I know it, therefore forgive me, who am no warrior, but a
woman who must also obey--the will of the king." And she cast her arms
about his neck, sobbing her fill upon his breast.



Presently, muttering something that the listener could not catch,
Nahoon left Nanea, and crept out of the hut by its bee-hole entrance.
Then Hadden opened his eyes and looked round him. The sun was sinking
and a ray of its red light streaming through the little opening filled
the place with a soft and crimson glow. In the centre of the hut--
supporting it--stood a thorn-wood roof-tree coloured black by the
smoke of the fire; and against this, the rich light falling full upon
her, leaned the girl Nanea--a very picture of gentle despair.

As is occasionally the case among Zulu women, she was beautiful--so
beautiful that the sight of her went straight to the white man's
heart, for a moment causing the breath to catch in his throat. Her
dress was very simple. On her shoulders, hanging open in front, lay a
mantle of soft white stuff edged with blue beads, about her middle was
a buck-skin moocha, also embroidered with blue beads, while round her
forehead and left knee were strips of grey fur, and on her right wrist
a shining bangle of copper. Her naked bronze-hued figure was tall and
perfect in its proportions; while her face had little in common with
that of the ordinary native girl, showing as it did strong traces of
the ancestral Arabian or Semitic blood. It was oval in shape, with
delicate aquiline features, arched eyebrows, a full mouth, that
drooped a little at the corners, tiny ears, behind which the wavy
coal-black hair hung down to the shoulders, and the very loveliest
pair of dark and liquid eyes that it is possible to imagine.

For a minute or more Nanea stood thus, her sweet face bathed in the
sunbeam, while Hadden feasted his eyes upon its beauty. Then sighing
heavily, she turned, and seeing that he was awake, started, drew her
mantle over her breast and came, or rather glided, towards him.

"The chief is awake," she said in her soft Zulu accents. "Does he need

"Yes, Lady," he answered; "I need to drink, but alas! I am too weak."

She knelt down beside him, and supporting him with her left arm, with
her right held the gourd to his lips.

How it came about Hadden never knew, but before that draught was
finished a change passed over him. Whether it was the savage girl's
touch, or her strange and fawn-like loveliness, or the tender pity in
her eyes, matters not--the issue was the same. She struck some cord in
his turbulent uncurbed nature, and of a sudden it was filled full with
passion for her--a passion which if, not elevated, at least was real.
He did not for a moment mistake the significance of the flood of
feeling that surged through his veins. Hadden never shirked facts.

"By Heaven!" he said to himself, "I have fallen in love with a black
beauty at first sight--more in love than I have ever been before. It's
awkward, but there will be compensations. So much the worse for
Nahoon, or for Cetywayo, or for both of them. After all, I can always
get rid of her if she becomes a nuisance."

Then, in a fit of renewed weakness, brought about by the turmoil of
his blood, he lay back upon the pillow of furs, watching Nanea's face
while with a native salve of pounded leaves she busied herself
dressing the wounds that the leopard had made.

It almost seemed as though something of what was passing in his mind
communicated itself to that of the girl. At least, her hand shook a
little at her task, and getting done with it as quickly as she could,
she rose from her knees with a courteous "It is finished, /Inkoos/,"
and once more took up her position by the roof-tree.

"I thank you, Lady," he said; "your hand is kind."

"You must not call me lady, /Inkoos/," she answered, "I am no
chieftainess, but only the daughter of a headman, Umgona."

"And named Nanea," he said. "Nay, do not be surprised, I have heard of
you. Well, Nanea, perhaps you will soon become a chieftainess--up at
the king's kraal yonder."

"Alas! and alas!" she said, covering her face with her hands.

"Do not grieve, Nanea, a hedge is never so tall and thick but that it
cannot be climbed or crept through."

She let fall her hands and looked at him eagerly, but he did not
pursue the subject.

"Tell me, how did I come here, Nanea?"

"Nahoon and his companions carried you, /Inkoos/."

"Indeed, I begin to be thankful to the leopard that struck me down.
Well, Nahoon is a brave man, and he has done me a great service. I
trust that I may be able to repay it--to you, Nanea."


This was the first meeting of Nanea and Hadden; but, although she did
not seek them, the necessities of his sickness and of the situation
brought about many another. Never for a moment did the white man waver
in his determination to get into his keeping the native girl who had
captivated him, and to attain his end he brought to bear all his
powers and charm to detach her from Nahoon, and win her affections for
himself. He was no rough wooer, however, but proceeded warily, weaving
her about with a web of flattery and attention that must, he thought,
produce the desired effect upon her mind. Without a doubt, indeed, it
would have done so--for she was but a woman, and an untutored one--had
it not been for a simple fact which dominated her whole nature. She
loved Nahoon, and there was no room in her heart for any other man,
white or black. To Hadden she was courteous and kindly but no more,
nor did she appear to notice any of the subtle advances by which he
attempted to win a foothold in her heart. For a while this puzzled
him, but he remembered that the Zulu women do not usually permit
themselves to show feeling towards an undeclared suitor. Therefore it
became necessary that he should speak out.

His mind once made up, he had not to wait long for an opportunity. He
was now quite recovered from his hurts, and accustomed to walk in the
neighbourhood of the kraal. About two hundred yards from Umgona's huts
rose a spring, and thither it was Nanea's habit to resort in the
evening to bring back drinking-water for the use of her father's
household. The path between this spring and the kraal ran through a
patch of bush, where on a certain afternoon towards sundown Hadden
took his seat under a tree, having first seen Nanea go down to the
little stream as was her custom. A quarter of an hour later she
reappeared carrying a large gourd upon her head. She wore no garment
now except her moocha, for she had but one mantle and was afraid lest
the water should splash it. He watched her advancing along the path,
her hands resting on her hips, her splendid naked figure outlined
against the westering sun, and wondered what excuse he could make to
talk with her. As it chanced fortune favoured him, for when she was
near him a snake glided across the path in front of the girl's feet,
causing her to spring backwards in alarm and overset the gourd of
water. He came forward, and picked it up.

"Wait here," he said laughing; "I will bring it to you full."

"Nay, /Inkoos/," she remonstrated, "that is a woman's work."

"Among my people," he said, "the men love to work for the women," and
he started for the spring, leaving her wondering.

Before he reached her again, he regretted his gallantry, for it was
necessary to carry the handleless gourd upon his shoulder, and the
contents of it spilling over the edge soaked him. Of this, however, he
said nothing to Nanea.

"There is your water, Nanea, shall I carry it for you to the kraal?"

"Nay, /Inkoos/, I thank you, but give it to me, you are weary with its

"Stay awhile, and I will accompany you. Ah! Nanea, I am still weak,
and had it not been for you I think that I should be dead."

"It was Nahoon who saved you--not I, /Inkoos/."

"Nahoon saved my body, but you, Nanea, you alone can save my heart."

"You talk darkly, /Inkoos/."

"Then I must make my meaning clear, Nanea. I love you."

She opened her brown eyes wide.

"You, a white lord, love me, a Zulu girl? How can that be?"

"I do not know, Nanea, but it is so, and were you not blind you would
have seen it. I love you, and I wish to take you to wife."

"Nay, /Inkoos/, it is impossible. I am already betrothed."

"Ay," he answered, "betrothed to the king."

"No, betrothed to Nahoon."

"But it is the king who will take you within a week; is it not so? And
would you not rather that I should take you than the king?"

"It seems to be so, /Inkoos/, and I would rather go with you than with
the king, but most of all I desire to marry Nahoon. It may be that I
shall not be able to marry him, but if that is so, at least I will
never become one of the king's women."

"How will you prevent it, Nanea?"

"There are waters in which a maid may drown, and trees upon which she
can hang," she answered with a quick setting of the mouth.

"That were a pity, Nanea, you are too fair to die."

"Fair or foul, yet I die, /Inkoos/."

"No, no, come with me--I will find a way--and be my wife," and he put
her arm about her waist, and strove to draw her to him.

Without any violence of movement, and with the most perfect dignity,
the girl disengaged herself from his embrace.

"You have honoured me, and I thank you, /Inkoos/," she said quietly,
"but you do not understand. I am the wife of Nahoon--I belong to
Nahoon; therefore, I cannot look on any other man while Nahoon lives.
It is not our custom, /Inkoos/, for we are not as the white women, but
ignorant and simple, and when we vow ourselves to a man, we abide by
that vow till death."

"Indeed," said Hadden; "and so now you go to tell Nahoon that I have
offered to make you my wife."

"No, /Inkoos/, why should I tell Nahoon your secrets? I have said
'nay' to you, not 'yea,' therefore he has no right to know," and she
stooped to lift the gourd of water.

Hadden considered the situation rapidly, for his repulse only made him
the more determined to succeed. Of a sudden under the emergency he
conceived a scheme, or rather its rough outline. It was not a nice
scheme, and some men might have shrunk from it, but as he had no
intention of suffering himself to be defeated by a Zulu girl, he
decided--with regret, it is true--that having failed to attain his
ends by means which he considered fair, he must resort to others of
more doubtful character.

"Nanea," he said, "you are a good and honest woman, and I respect you.
As I have told you, I love you also, but if you refuse to listen to me
there is nothing more to be said, and after all, perhaps it would be
better that you should marry one of your own people. But, Nanea, you
will never marry him, for the king will take you; and, if he does not
give you to some other man, either you will become one of his
'sisters,' or to be free of him, as you say, you will die. Now hear
me, for it is because I love you and wish your welfare that I speak
thus. Why do you not escape into Natal, taking Nahoon with you, for
there as you know you may live in peace out of reach of the arm of

"That is my desire, /Inkoos/, but Nahoon will not consent. He says
that there is to be war between us and you white men, and he will not
break the command of the king and desert from his army."

"Then he cannot love you much, Nahoon, and at least you have to think
of yourself. Whisper into the ear of your father and fly together, for
be sure that Nahoon will soon follow you. Ay! and I myself with fly
with you, for I too believe that there must be war, and then a white
man in this country will be as a lamb among the eagles."

"If Nahoon will come, I will go, /Inkoos/, but I cannot fly without
Nahoon; it is better I should stay here and kill myself."

"Surely then being so fair and loving him so well, you can teach him
to forget his folly and to escape with you. In four days' time we must
start for the king's kraal, and if you win over Nahoon, it will be
easy for us to turn our faces southwards and across the river that
lies between the land of the Amazulu and Natal. For the sake of all of
us, but most of all for your own sake, try to do this, Nanea, whom I
have loved and whom I now would save. See him and plead with him as
you know how, but as yet do not tell him that I dream of flight, for
then I should be watched."

"In truth, I will, /Inkoos/," she answered earnestly, "and oh! I thank
you for your goodness. Fear not that I will betray you--first would I
die. Farewell."

"Farewell, Nanea," and taking her hand he raised it to his lips.


Late that night, just as Hadden was beginning to prepare himself for
sleep, he heard a gentle tapping at the board which closed the
entrance to his hut.

"Enter," he said, unfastening the door, and presently by the light of
the little lantern that he had with him, he saw Nanea creep into the
hut, followed by the great form of Nahoon.

"/Inkoos/," she said in a whisper when the door was closed again, "I
have pleaded with Nahoon, and he has consented to fly; moreover, my
father will come also."

"Is it so, Nahoon?" asked Hadden.

"It is so," answered the Zulu, looking down shamefacedly; "to save
this girl from the king, and because the love of her eats out my
heart, I have bartered away my honour. But I tell you, Nanea, and you,
White Man, as I told Umgona just now, that I think no good will come
of this flight, and if we are caught or betrayed, we shall be killed
every one of us."

"Caught we can scarcely be," broke in Nanea anxiously, "for who could
betray us, except the /Inkoos/ here----"

"Which he is not likely to do," said Hadden quietly, "seeing that he
desires to escape with you, and that his life is also at stake."

"That is so, Black Heart," said Nahoon, "otherwise I tell you that I
should not have trusted you."

Hadden took no notice of this outspoken saying, but until very late
that night they sat there together making their plans.


On the following morning Hadden was awakened by sounds of violent
altercation. Going out of his hut he found that the disputants were
Umgona and a fat and evil-looking Kaffir chief who had arrived at the
kraal on a pony. This chief, he soon discovered, was named Maputa,
being none other than the man who had sought Nanea in marriage and
brought about Nahoon's and Umgona's unfortunate appeal to the king. At
present he was engaged in abusing Umgona furiously, charging him with
having stolen certain of his oxen and bewitched his cows so that they
would not give milk. The alleged theft it was comparatively easy to
disprove, but the wizardry remained a matter of argument.

"You are a dog, and a son of a dog," shouted Maputa, shaking his fat
fist in the face of the trembling but indignant Umgona. "You promised
me your daughter in marriage, then having vowed her to that
/umfagozan/--that low lout of a soldier, Nahoon, the son of Zomba--you
went, the two of you, and poisoned the king's ear against me, bringing
me into trouble with the king, and now you have bewitched my cattle.
Well, wait, I will be even with you, Wizard; wait till you wake up in
the cold morning to find your fence red with fire, and the slayers
standing outside your gates to eat up you and yours with spears----"

At this juncture Nahoon, who till now had been listening in silence,
intervened with effect.

"Good," he said, "we will wait, but not in your company, Chief Maputa.
/Hamba!/ (go)----" and seizing the fat old ruffian by the scruff of
his neck, he flung him backwards with such violence that he rolled
over and over down the little slope.

Hadden laughed, and passed on towards the stream where he proposed to
bathe. Just as he reached it, he caught sight of Maputa riding along
the footpath, his head-ring covered with mud, his lips purple and his
black face livid with rage.

"There goes an angry man," he said to himself. "Now, how would it
be----" and he looked upwards like one seeking an inspiration. It
seemed to come; perhaps the devil finding it open whispered in his
ear, at any rate--in a few seconds his plan was formed, and he was
walking through the bush to meet Maputa.

"Go in peace, Chief," he said; "they seem to have treated you roughly
up yonder. Having no power to interfere, I came away for I could not
bear the sight. It is indeed shameful that an old and venerable man of
rank should be struck into the dirt, and beaten by a soldier drunk
with beer."

"Shameful, White Man!" gasped Maputa; "your words are true indeed. But
wait a while. I, Maputa, will roll that stone over, I will throw that
bull upon its back. When next the harvest ripens, this I promise, that
neither Nahoon nor Umgona, nor any of his kraal shall be left to
gather it."

"And how will you manage that, Maputa?"

"I do not know, but I will find a way. Oh! I tell you, a way shall be

Hadden patted the pony's neck meditatively, then leaning forward, he
looked the chief in the eyes and said:--

"What will you give me, Maputa, if I show you that way, a sure and
certain one, whereby you may be avenged to the death upon Nahoon,
whose violence I also have seen, and upon Umgona, whose witchcraft
brought sore sickness upon me?"

"What reward do you seek, White Man?" asked Maputa eagerly.

"A little thing, Chief, a thing of no account, only the girl Nanea, to
whom as it chances I have taken a fancy."

"I wanted her for myself, White Man, but he who sits at Ulundi has
laid his hand upon her."

"That is nothing, Chief; I can arrange with him who 'sits at Ulundi.'
It is with you who are great here that I wish to come to terms.
Listen: if you grant my desire, not only will I fulfil yours upon your
foes, but when the girl is delivered into my hands I will give you
this rifle and a hundred rounds of cartridges."

Maputa looked at the sporting Martini, and his eyes glistened.

"It is good," he said; "it is very good. Often have I wished for such
a gun that will enable me to shoot game, and to talk with my enemies
from far away. Promise it to me, White Man, and you shall take the
girl if I can give her to you."

"You swear it, Maputa?"

"I swear it by the head of Chaka, and the spirits of my fathers."

"Good. At dawn on the fourth day from now it is the purpose of Umgona,
his daughter Nanea, and Nahoon, to cross the river into Natal by the
drift that is called Crocodile Drift, taking their cattle with them
and flying from the king. I also shall be of their company, for they
know that I have learned their secret, and would murder me if I tried
to leave them. Now you who are chief of the border and guardian of
that drift, must hide at night with some men among the rocks in the
shallows of the drift and await our coming. First Nanea will cross
driving the cows and calves, for so it is arranged, and I shall help
her; then will follow Umgona and Nahoon with the oxen and heifers. On
these two you must fall, killing them and capturing the cattle, and
afterwards I will give you the rifle."

"What if the king should ask for the girl, White Man?"

"Then you shall answer that in the uncertain light you did not
recognise her and so she slipped away from you; moreover, that at
first you feared to seize the girl lest her cries should alarm the men
and they should escape you."

"Good, but how can I be sure that you will give me the gun once you
are across the river?"

"Thus: before I enter the ford I will lay the rifle and cartridges
upon a stone by the bank, telling Nanea that I shall return to fetch
them when I have driven over the cattle."

"It is well, White Man; I will not fail you."

So the plot was made, and after some further conversation upon points
of detail, the two conspirators shook hands and parted.

"That ought to come off all right," reflected Hadden to himself as he
plunged and floated in the waters of the stream, "but somehow I don't
quite trust our friend Maputa. It would have been better if I could
have relied upon myself to get rid of Nahoon and his respected uncle--
a couple of shots would do it in the water. But then that would be
murder and murder is unpleasant; whereas the other thing is only the
delivery to justice of two base deserters, a laudable action in a
military country. Also personal interference upon my part might turn
the girl against me; while after Umgona and Nahoon have been wiped out
by Maputa, she /must/ accept my escort. Of course there is a risk, but
in every walk of life the most cautious have to take risks at times."

As it chanced, Philip Hadden was correct in his suspicions of his
coadjutor, Maputa. Even before that worthy chief reached his own
kraal, he had come to the conclusion that the white man's plan, though
attractive in some ways, was too dangerous, since it was certain that
if the girl Nanea escaped, the king would be indignant. Moreover, the
men he took with him to do the killing in the drift would suspect
something and talk. On the other hand he would earn much credit with
his majesty by revealing the plot, saying that he had learned it from
the lips of the white hunter, whom Umgona and Nahoon had forced to
participate in it, and of whose coveted rifle he must trust to chance
to possess himself.


An hour later two discreet messengers were bounding across the plains,
bearing words from the Chief Maputa, the Warden of the Border, to the
"great Black Elephant" at Ulundi.



Fortune showed itself strangely favourable to the plans of Nahoon and
Nanea. One of the Zulu captain's perplexities was as to how he should
lull the suspicions and evade the vigilance of his own companions, who
together with himself had been detailed by the king to assist Hadden
in his hunting and to guard against his escape. As it chanced,
however, on the day after the incident of the visit of Maputa, a
messenger arrived from no less a person than the great military
Induna, Tvingwayo ka Marolo, who afterwards commanded the Zulu army at
Isandhlwana, ordering these men to return to their regiment, the
Umcityu Corps, which was to be placed upon full war footing.
Accordingly Nahoon sent them, saying that he himself would follow with
Black Heart in the course of a few days, as at present the white man
was not sufficiently recovered from his hurts to allow of his
travelling fast and far. So the soldiers went, doubting nothing.

Then Umgona gave it out that in obedience to the command of the king
he was about to start for Ulundi, taking with him his daughter Nanea
to be delivered over into the /Sigodhla/, and also those fifteen head
of cattle that had been /lobola'd/ by Nahoon in consideration of his
forthcoming marriage, whereof he had been fined by Cetywayo. Under
pretence that they required a change of veldt, the rest of his cattle
he sent away in charge of a Basuto herd who knew nothing of their
plans, telling him to keep them by the Crocodile Drift, as there the
grass was good and sweet.

All preparations being completed, on the third day the party started,
heading straight for Ulundi. After they had travelled some miles,
however, they left the road and turning sharp to the right, passed
unobserved of any through a great stretch of uninhabited bush. Their
path now lay not far from the Pool of Doom, which, indeed, was close
to Umgona's kraal, and the forest that was called Home of the Dead,
but out of sight of these. It was their plan to travel by night,
reaching the broken country near the Crocodile Drift on the following
morning. Here they proposed to lie hid that day and through the night;
then, having first collected the cattle which had preceded them, to
cross the river at the break of dawn and escape into Natal. At least
this was the plan of his companions; but, as we know, Hadden had
another programme, whereon after one last appearance two of the party
would play no part.

During that long afternoon's journey Umgona, who knew every inch of
the country, walked ahead driving the fifteen cattle and carrying in
his hand a long travelling stick of black and white /umzimbeet/ wood,
for in truth the old man was in a hurry to reach his journey's end.
Next came Nahoon, armed with a broad assegai, but naked except for his
moocha and necklet of baboon's teeth, and with him Nanea in her white
bead-bordered mantle. Hadden, who brought up the rear, noticed that
the girl seemed to be under the spell of an imminent apprehension, for
from time to time she clasped her lover's arm, and looking up into his
face, addressed him with vehemence, almost with passion.

Curiously enough, the sight touched Hadden, and once or twice he was
shaken by so sharp a pang of remorse at the thought of his share in
this tragedy, that he cast about in his mind seeking a means to
unravel the web of death which he himself had woven. But ever that
evil voice was whispering at his ear. It reminded him that he, the
white /Inkoos/, had been refused by this dusky beauty, and that if he
found a way to save him, within some few hours she would be the wife
of the savage gentleman at her side, the man who had named him Black
Heart and who despised him, the man whom he had meant to murder and
who immediately repaid his treachery by rescuing him from the jaws of
the leopard at the risk of his own life. Moreover, it was a law of
Hadden's existence never to deny himself of anything that he desired
if it lay within his power to take it--a law which had led him always
deeper into sin. In other respects, indeed, it had not carried him
far, for in the past he had not desired much, and he had won little;
but this particular flower was to his hand, and he would pluck it. If
Nahoon stood between him and the flower, so much the worse for Nahoon,
and if it should wither in his grasp, so much the worse for the
flower; it could always be thrown away. Thus it came about that, not
for the first time in his life, Philip Hadden discarded the somewhat
spasmodic prickings of conscience and listened to that evil whispering
at his ear.

About half-past five o'clock in the afternoon the four refugees passed
the stream that a mile or so down fell over the little precipice into
the Doom Pool; and, entering a patch of thorn trees on the further
side, walked straight into the midst of two-and-twenty soldiers, who
were beguiling the tedium of expectancy by the taking of snuff and the
smoking of /dakka/ or native hemp. With these soldiers, seated on his
pony, for he was too fat to walk, waited the Chief Maputa.

Observing that their expected guests had arrived, the men knocked out
the /dakka/ pipe, replaced the snuff boxes in the slits made in the
lobes of their ears, and secured the four of them.

"What is the meaning of this, O King's soldiers?" asked Umgona in a
quavering voice. "We journey to the kraal of U'Cetywayo; why do you
molest us?"

"Indeed. Wherefore then are your faces set towards the south. Does the
Black One live in the south? Well, you will journey to another kraal
presently," answered the jovial-looking captain of the party with a
callous laugh.

"I do not understand," stammered Umgona.

"Then I will explain while you rest," said the captain. "The Chief
Maputa yonder sent word to the Black One at Ulundi that he had learned
of your intended flight to Natal from the lips of this white man, who
had warned him of it. The Black One was angry, and despatched us to
catch you and make an end of you. That is all. Come on now, quietly,
and let us finish the matter. As the Doom Pool is near, your deaths
will be easy."

Nahoon heard the words, and sprang straight at the throat of Hadden;
but he did not reach it, for the soldiers pulled him down. Nanea heard
them also, and turning, looked the traitor in the eyes; she said
nothing, she only looked, but he could never forget that look. The
white man for his part was filled with a fiery indignation against

"You wicked villain," he gasped, whereat the chief smiled in a sickly
fashion, and turned away.

Then they were marched along the banks of the stream till they reached
the waterfall that fell into the Pool of Doom.

Hadden was a brave man after his fashion, but his heart quailed as he
gazed into that abyss.

"Are you going to throw me in there?" he asked of the Zulu captain in
a thick voice.

"You, White Man?" replied the soldier unconcernedly. "No, our orders
are to take you to the king, but what he will do with you I do not
know. There is to be war between your people and ours, so perhaps he
means to pound you into medicine for the use of the witch-doctors, or
to peg you over an ant-heap as a warning to other white men."

Hadden received this information in silence, but its effect upon his
brain was bracing, for instantly he began to search out some means of

By now the party had halted near the two thorn trees that hung over
the waters of the pool.

"Who dives first," asked the captain of the Chief Maputa.

"The old wizard," he replied, nodding at Umgona; "then his daughter
after him, and last of all this fellow," and he struck Nahoon in the
face with his open hand.

"Come on, Wizard," said the captain, grasping Umgona by the arm, "and
let us see how you can swim."

At the words of doom Umgona seemed to recover his self-command, after
the fashion of his race.

"No need to lead me, soldier," he said, shaking himself loose, "who am
old and ready to die." Then he kissed his daughter at his side, wrung
Nahoon by the hand, and turning from Hadden with a gesture of contempt
walked out upon the platform that joined the two thorn trunks. Here he
stood for a moment looking at the setting sun, then suddenly, and
without a sound, he hurled himself into the abyss below and vanished.

"That was a brave one," said the captain with admiration. "Can you
spring too, girl, or must we throw you?"

"I can walk my father's path," Nanea answered faintly, "but first I
crave leave to say one word. It is true that we were escaping from the
king, and therefore by the law we must die; but it was Black Heart
here who made the plot, and he who has betrayed us. Would you know why
he has betrayed us? Because he sought my favour, and I refused him,
and this is the vengeance that he takes--a white man's vengeance."

"/Wow!/" broke in the chief Maputa, "this pretty one speaks truth, for
the white man would have made a bargain with me under which Umgona,
the wizard, and Nahoon, the soldier, were to be killed at the
Crocodile Drift, and he himself suffered to escape with the girl. I
spoke him softly and said 'yes,' and then like a loyal man I reported
to the king."

"You hear," sighed Nanea. "Nahoon, fare you well, though presently
perhaps we shall be together again. It was I who tempted you from your
duty. For my sake you forgot your honour, and I am repaid. Farewell,
my husband, it is better to die with you than to enter the house of
the king's women," and Nanea stepped on to the platform.

Here, holding to a bough of one of the thorn trees, she turned and
addressed Hadden, saying:--

"Black Heart, you seem to have won the day, but me at least you lose
and--the sun is not yet set. After sunset comes the night, Black
Heart, and in that night I pray that you may wander eternally, and be
given to drink of my blood and the blood of Umgona my father, and the
blood of Nahoon my husband, who saved your life, and whom you have
murdered. Perchance, Black Heart, we may yet meet yonder--in the House
of the Dead."

Then uttering a low cry Nanea clasped her hands and sprang upwards and
outwards from the platform. The watchers bent their heads forward to
look. They saw her rush headlong down the face of the fall to strike
the water fifty feet below. A few seconds, and for the last time, they
caught sight of her white garment glimmering on the surface of the
gloomy pool. Then the shadows and mist-wreaths hid it, and she was

"Now, husband," cried the cheerful voice of the captain, "yonder is
your marriage bed, so be swift to follow a bride who is so ready to
lead the way. /Wow!/ but you are good people to kill; never have I had
to do with any who gave less trouble. You----" and he stopped, for
mental agony had done its work, and suddenly Nahoon went mad before
his eyes.

With a roar like that of a lion the great man cast off those who held
him and seizing one of them round the waist and thigh, he put out all
his terrible strength. Lifting him as though he had been an infant, he
hurled him over the edge of the cliff to find his death on the rocks
of the Pool of Doom. Then crying:--

"Black Heart! your turn, Black Heart the traitor!" he rushed at
Hadden, his eyes rolling and foam flying from his lips, as he passed
striking the chief Maputa from his horse with a backward blow of his
hand. Ill would it have gone with the white man if Nahoon had caught
him. But he could not come at him, for the soldiers sprang upon him
and notwithstanding his fearful struggles they pulled him to the
ground, as at certain festivals the Zulu regiments with their naked
hands pull down a bull in the presence of the king.

"Cast him over before he can work more mischief," said a voice. But
the captain cried out, "Nay, nay, he is sacred; the fire from Heaven
has fallen on his brain, and we may not harm him, else evil would
overtake us all. Bind him hand and foot, and bear him tenderly to
where he can be cared for. Surely I thought that these evil-doers were
giving us too little trouble, and thus it has proved."

So they set themselves to make fast Nahoon's hands and wrists, using
as much gentleness as they might, for among the Zulus a lunatic is
accounted holy. It was no easy task, and it took time.

Hadden glanced around him, and saw his opportunity. On the ground
close beside him lay his rifle, where one of the soldiers had placed
it, and about a dozen yards away Maputa's pony was grazing. With a
swift movement, he seized the Martini and five seconds later he was on
the back of the pony, heading for the Crocodile Drift at a gallop. So
quickly indeed did he execute this masterly retreat, that occupied as
they all were in binding Nahoon, for half a minute or more none of the
soldiers noticed what had happened. Then Maputa chanced to see, and
waddled after him to the top of the rise, screaming:--

"The white thief, he has stolen my horse, and the gun too, the gun
that he promised to give me."

Hadden, who by this time was a hundred yards away, heard him clearly,
and a rage filled his heart. This man had made an open murderer of
him; more, he had been the means of robbing him of the girl for whose
sake he had dipped his hands in these iniquities. He glanced over his
shoulder; Maputa was still running, and alone. Yes, there was time; at
any rate he would risk it.

Pulling up the pony with a jerk, he leapt from its back, slipping his
arm through the rein with an almost simultaneous movement. As it
chanced, and as he had hoped would be the case, the animal was a
trained shooting horse, and stood still. Hadden planted his feet
firmly on the ground and drawing a deep breath, he cocked the rifle
and covered the advancing chief. Now Maputa saw his purpose and with a
yell of terror turned to fly. Hadden waited a second to get the sight
fair on his broad back, then just as the soldiers appeared above the
rise he pressed the trigger. He was a noted shot, and in this instance
his skill did not fail him; for, before he heard the bullet tell,
Maputa flung his arms wide and plunged to the ground dead.

Three seconds more, and with a savage curse, Hadden had remounted the
pony and was riding for his life towards the river, which a while
later he crossed in safety.



When Nanea leapt from the dizzy platform that overhung the Pool of
Doom, a strange fortune befell her. Close in to the precipice were
many jagged rocks, and on these the waters of the fall fell and
thundered, bounding from them in spouts of spray into the troubled
depths of the foss beyond. It was on these stones that the life was
dashed out from the bodies of the wretched victims who were hurled
from above. But Nanea, it will be remembered, had not waited to be
treated thus, and as it chanced the strong spring with which she had
leapt to death carried her clear of the rocks. By a very little she
missed the edge of them and striking the deep water head first like
some practised diver, she sank down and down till she thought that she
would never rise again. Yet she did rise, at the end of the pool in
the mouth of the rapid, along which she sped swiftly, carried down by
the rush of the water. Fortunately there were no rocks here; and,
since she was a skilful swimmer, she escaped the danger of being
thrown against the banks.

For a long distance she was borne thus till at length she saw that she
was in a forest, for trees cut off the light from the water, and their
drooping branches swept its surface. One of these Nanea caught with
her hand, and by the help of it she dragged herself from the River of
Death whence none had escaped before. Now she stood upon the bank
gasping but quite unharmed; there was not a scratch on her body; even
her white garment was still fast about her neck.

But though she had suffered no hurt in her terrible voyage, so
exhausted was Nanea that she could scarcely stand. Here the gloom was
that of night, and shivering with cold she looked helplessly to find
some refuge. Close to the water's edge grew an enormous yellow-wood
tree, and to this she staggered--thinking to climb it, and seek
shelter in its boughs where, as she hoped, she would be safe from wild
beasts. Again fortune befriended her, for at a distance of a few feet
from the ground there was a great hole in the tree which, she
discovered, was hollow. Into this hole she crept, taking her chance of
its being the home of snakes or other evil creatures, to find that the
interior was wide and warm. It was dry also, for at the bottom of the
cavity lay a foot or more of rotten tinder and moss brought there by
rats or birds. Upon this tinder she lay down, and covering herself
with the moss and leaves soon sank into sleep or stupor.

How long Nanea slept she did not know, but at length she was awakened
by a sound as of guttural human voices talking in a language that she
could not understand. Rising to her knees she peered out of the hole
in the tree. It was night, but the stars shone brilliantly, and their
light fell upon an open circle of ground close by the edge of the
river. In this circle there burned a great fire, and at a little
distance from the fire were gathered eight or ten horrible-looking
beings, who appeared to be rejoicing over something that lay upon the
ground. They were small in stature, men and women together, but no
children, and all of them were nearly naked. Their hair was long and
thin, growing down almost to the eyes, their jaws and teeth protruded
and the girth of their black bodies was out of all proportion to their
height. In their hands they held sticks with sharp stones lashed on to
them, or rude hatchet-like knives of the same material.

Now Nanea's heart shrank within her, and she nearly fainted with fear,
for she knew that she was in the haunted forest, and without a doubt
these were the /Esemkofu/, the evil ghosts that dwelt therein. Yes,
that was what they were, and yet she could not take her eyes off them
--the sight of them held her with a horrible fascination. But if they
were ghosts, why did they sing and dance like men? Why did they wave
those sharp stones aloft, and quarrel and strike each other? And why
did they make a fire as men do when they wish to cook food? More, what
was it that they rejoiced over, that long dark thing which lay so
quiet upon the ground? It did not look like a head of game, and it
could scarcely be a crocodile, yet clearly it was food of some sort,
for they were sharpening the stone knives in order to cut it up.

While she wondered thus, one of the dreadful-looking little creatures
advanced to the fire, and taking from it a burning bough, held it over
the thing that lay upon the ground, to give light to a companion who
was about to do something to it with the stone knife. Next instant
Nanea drew back her head from the hole, a stifled shriek upon her
lips. She saw what it was now--it was the body of a man. Yes, and
these were no ghosts; they were cannibals of whom when she was little,
her mother had told her tales to keep her from wandering away from

But who was the man they were about to eat? It could not be one of
themselves, for his stature was much greater. Oh! now she knew; it
must be Nahoon, who had been killed up yonder, and whose dead body the
waters had brought down to the haunted forest as they had brought her
alive. Yes, it must be Nahoon, and she would be forced to see her
husband devoured before her eyes. The thought of it overwhelmed her.
That he should die by order of the king was natural, but that he
should be buried thus! Yet what could she do to prevent it? Well, if
it cost her her life, it should be prevented. At the worst they could
only kill and eat her also, and now that Nahoon and her father were
gone, being untroubled by any religious or spiritual hopes and fears,
she was not greatly concerned to keep her own breath in her.

Slipping through the hole in the tree, Nanea walked quietly towards
the cannibals--not knowing in the least what she should do when she
reached them. As she arrived in line with the fire this lack of
programme came home to her mind forcibly, and she paused to reflect.
Just then one of the cannibals looked up to see a tall and stately
figure wrapped in a white garment which, as the flame-light flickered
on it, seemed now to advance from the dense background of shadow, and
now to recede into it. The poor savage wretch was holding a stone
knife in his teeth when he beheld her, but it did not remain there
long, for opening his great jaws he uttered the most terrified and
piercing yell that Nanea had ever heard. Then the others saw her also,
and presently the forest was ringing with shrieks of fear. For a few
seconds the outcasts stood and gazed, then they were gone this way and
that, bursting their path through the undergrowth like startled
jackals. The /Esemkofu/ of Zulu tradition had been routed in their own
haunted home by what they took to be a spirit.

Poor /Esemkofu!/ they were but miserable and starving bushmen who,
driven into that place of ill omen many years ago, had adopted this
means, the only one open to them, to keep the life in their wretched
bodies. Here at least they were unmolested, and as there was little
other food to be found amid that wilderness of trees, they took what
the river brought them. When executions were few in the Pool of Doom,
times were hard for them indeed--for then they were driven to eat each
other. That is why there were no children.

As their inarticulate outcry died away in the distance, Nanea ran
forward to look at the body that lay on the ground, and staggered back
with a sigh of relief. It was not Nahoon, but she recognised the face
for that of one of the party of executioners. How did he come here?
Had Nahoon killed him? Had Nahoon escaped? She could not tell, and at
the best it was improbable, but still the sight of this dead soldier
lit her heart with a faint ray of hope, for how did he come to be dead
if Nahoon had no hand in his death? She could not bear to leave him
lying so near her hiding-place, however; therefore, with no small
toil, she rolled the corpse back into the water, which carried it
swiftly away. Then she returned to the tree, having first replenished
the fire, and awaited the light.

At last it came--so much of it as ever penetrated this darksome den--
and Nanea, becoming aware that she was hungry, descended from the tree
to search for food. All day long she searched, finding nothing, till
towards sunset she remembered that on the outskirts of the forest
there was a flat rock where it was the custom of those who had been in
any way afflicted, or who considered themselves or their belongings to
be bewitched, to place propitiatory offerings of food wherewith the
/Esemkofu/ and /Amalhosi/ were supposed to satisfy their spiritual
cravings. Urged by the pinch of starvation, to this spot Nanea
journeyed rapidly, and found to her joy that some neighbouring kraal
had evidently been in recent trouble, for the Rock of Offering was
laden with cobs of corn, gourds of milk, porridge and even meat.
Helping herself to as much as she could carry, she returned to her
lair, where she drank of the milk and cooked meat and mealies at the
fire. Then she crept back into the tree, and slept.

For nearly two months Nanea lived thus in the forest, since she could
not venture out of it--fearing lest she should be seized, and for a
second time taste of the judgment of the king. In the forest at least
she was safe, for none dared enter there, nor did the /Esemkofu/ give
her further trouble. Once or twice she saw them, but on each occasion
they fled from her presence--seeking some distant retreat, where they
hid themselves or perished. Nor did food fail her, for finding that it
was taken, the pious givers brought it in plenty to the Rock of

But, oh! the life was dreadful, and the gloom and loneliness coupled
with her sorrows at times drove her almost to insanity. Still she
lived on, though often she desired to die, for if her father was dead,
the corpse she had found was not the corpse of Nahoon, and in her
heart there still shone that spark of home. Yet what she hoped for she
could not tell.


When Philip Hadden reached civilised regions, he found that war was
about to be declared between the Queen and Cetywayo, King of the
Amazulu; also that in the prevailing excitement his little adventure
with the Utrecht store-keeper had been overlooked or forgotten. He was
the owner of two good buck-waggons with spans of salted oxen, and at
that time vehicles were much in request to carry military stores for
the columns which were to advance into Zululand; indeed the transport
authorities were glad to pay 90 a month for the hire of each waggon
and to guarantee the owners against all loss of cattle. Although he
was not desirous of returning to Zululand, this bait proved too much
for Hadden, who accordingly leased out his waggons to the
Commissariat, together with his own services as conductor and

He was attached to No. 3 column of the invading force, which it may be
remembered was under the immediate command of Lord Chelmsford, and on
the 20th of January, 1879, he marched with it by the road that runs
from Rorke's Drift to the Indeni forest, and encamped that night
beneath the shadow of the steep and desolate mountain known as

That day also a great army of King Cetywayo's, numbering twenty
thousand men and more, moved down from the Upindo Hill and camped upon
the stony plain that lies a mile and a half to the east of
Isandhlwana. No fires were lit, and it lay there in utter silence, for
the warriors were "sleeping on their spears."

With that /impi/ was the Umcityu regiment, three thousand five hundred
strong. At the first break of dawn the Induna in command of the
Umcityu looked up from beneath the shelter of the black shield with
which he had covered his body, and through the thick mist he saw a
great man standing before him, clothed only in a moocha, a gaunt wild-
eyed man who held a rough club in his hand. When he was spoken to, the
man made no answer; he only leaned upon his club looking from left to
right along the dense array of innumerable shields.

"Who is this /Silwana/ (wild creature)?" asked the Induna of his
captains wondering.

The captains stared at the wanderer, and one of them replied, "This is
Nahoon-ka-Zomba, it is the son of Zomba who not long ago held rank in
this regiment of the Umcityu. His betrothed, Nanea, daughter of
Umgona, was killed together with her father by order of the Black One,
and Nahoon went mad with grief at the sight of it, for the fire of
Heaven entered his brain, and mad he has wandered ever since."

"What would you here, Nahoon-ka-Zomba?" asked the Induna.

Then Nahoon spoke slowly. "My regiment goes down to war against the
white men; give me a shield and a spear, O Captain of the king, that I
may fight with my regiment, for I seek a face in the battle."

So they gave him a shield and a spear, for they dared not turn away
one whose brain was alight with the fire of Heaven.


When the sun was high that day, bullets began to fall among the ranks
of the Umcityu. Then the black-shielded, black-plumed Umcityu arose,
company by company, and after them arose the whole vast Zulu army,
breast and horns together, and swept down in silence upon the doomed
British camp, a moving sheen of spears. The bullets pattered on the
shields, the shells tore long lines through their array, but they
never halted or wavered. Forward on either side shot out the horns of
armed men, clasping the camp in an embrace of steel. Then as these
began to close, out burst the war cry of the Zulus, and with the roar
of a torrent and the rush of a storm, with a sound like the humming of
a billion bees, wave after wave the deep breast of the /impi/ rolled
down upon the white men. With it went the black-shielded Umcityu and
with them went Nahoon, the son of Zomba. A bullet struck him in the
side, glancing from his ribs, he did not heed; a white man fell from
his horse before him, he did not stab, for he sought but one face in
the battle.

He sought--and at last he found. There, among the waggons where the
spears were busiest, there standing by his horse and firing rapidly
was Black Heart, he who had given Nanea his betrothed to death. Three
soldiers stood between them, one of them Nahoon stabbed, and two he
brushed aside; then he rushed straight at Hadden.

But the white man saw him come, and even through the mask of his
madness he knew Nahoon again, and terror took hold of him. Throwing
away his empty rifle, for his ammunition was spent, he leaped upon his
horse and drove his spurs into its flanks. Away it went among the
carnage, springing over the dead and bursting through the lines of
shields, and after it came Nahoon, running long and low with head
stretched forward and trailing spear, running as a hound runs when the
buck is at view.

Hadden's first plan was to head for Rorke's Drift, but a glance to the
left showed him that the masses of the Undi barred that way, so he
fled straight on, leaving his path to fortune. In five minutes he was
over a ridge, and there was nothing of the battle to be seen, in ten
all sounds of it had died away, for few guns were fired in the dread
race to Fugitive's Drift, and the assegai makes no noise. In some
strange fashion, even at this moment, the contrast between the
dreadful scene of blood and turmoil that he had left, and the peaceful
face of Nature over which he was passing, came home to his brain
vividly. Here birds sang and cattle grazed; here the sun shone
undimmed by the smoke of cannon, only high up in the blue and silent
air long streams of vultures could be seen winging their way to the
Plain of Isandhlwana.

The ground was very rough, and Hadden's horse began to tire. He looked
over his shoulder--there some two hundred yards behind came the Zulu,
grim as Death, unswerving as Fate. He examined the pistol in his belt;
there was but one undischarged cartridge left, all the rest had been
fired and the pouch was empty. Well, one bullet should be enough for
one savage: the question was should he stop and use it now? No, he
might miss or fail to kill the man; he was on horseback and his foe on
foot, surely he could tire him out.

A while passed, and they dashed through a little stream. It seemed
familiar to Hadden. Yes, that was the pool where he used to bathe when
he was the guest of Umgona, the father of Nanea; and there on the
knoll to his right were the huts, or rather the remains of them, for
they had been burnt with fire. What chance had brought him to this
place, he wondered; then again he looked behind him at Nahoon, who
seemed to read his thoughts, for he shook his spear and pointed to the
ruined kraal.

On he went at speed for here the land was level, and to his joy he
lost sight of his pursuer. But presently there came a mile of rocky
ground, and when it was past, glancing back he saw that Nahoon was
once more in his old place. His horse's strength was almost spent, but
Hadden spurred it forward blindly, whither he knew not. Now he was
travelling along a strip of turf and ahead of him he heard the music
of a river, while to his left rose a high bank. Presently the turf
bent inwards and there, not twenty yards away from him, was a Kaffir
hut standing on the brink of a river. He looked at it, yes, it was the
hut of that accursed /inyanga/, the Bee, and standing by the fence of
it was none other than the Bee herself. At the sight of her the
exhausted horse swerved violently, stumbled and came to the ground,
where it lay panting. Hadden was thrown from the saddle but sprang to
his feet unhurt.

"Ah! Black Heart, is it you? What news of the battle, Black Heart?"
cried the Bee in a mocking voice.

"Help me, mother, I am pursued," he gasped.

"What of it, Black Heart, it is but by one tired man. Stand then and
face him, for now Black Heart and White Heart are together again. You
will not? Then away to the forest and seek shelter among the dead who
await you there. Tell me, tell me, was it the face of Nanea that I saw
beneath the waters a while ago? Good! bear my greetings to her when
you two meet in the House of the Dead."

Hadden looked at the stream; it was in flood. He could not swim it, so
followed by the evil laugh of the prophetess, he sped towards the
forest. After him came Nahoon, his tongue hanging from his jaws like
the tongue of a wolf.

Now he was in the shadow of the forest, but still he sped on following
the course of the river, till at length his breath failed, and he
halted on the further side of a little glade, beyond which a great
tree grew. Nahoon was more than a spear's throw behind him; therefore
he had time to draw his pistol and make ready.

"Halt, Nahoon," he cried, as once before he had cried; "I would speak
with you."

The Zulu heard his voice, and obeyed.

"Listen," said Hadden. "We have run a long race and fought a long
fight, you and I, and we are still alive both of us. Very soon, if you
come on, one of us must be dead, and it will be you, Nahoon, for I am
armed and as you know I can shoot straight. What do you say?"

Nahoon made no answer, but stood still at the edge of the glade, his
wild and glowering eyes fixed on the white man's face and his breath
coming in short gasps.

"Will you let me go, if /I/ let /you/ go?" Hadden asked once more. "I
know why you hate me, but the past cannot be undone, nor can the dead
be brought to earth again."

Still Nahoon made no answer, and his silence seemed more fateful and
more crushing than any speech; no spoken accusation would have been so
terrible in Hadden's ear. He made no answer, but lifting his assegai
he stalked grimly toward his foe.

When he was within five paces Hadden covered him and fired. Nahoon
sprang aside, but the bullet struck him somewhere, for his right arm
dropped, and the stabbing spear that he held was jerked from it
harmlessly over the white man's head. But still making no sound, the
Zulu came on and gripped him by the throat with his left hand. For a
space they struggled terribly, swaying to and fro, but Hadden was
unhurt and fought with the fury of despair, while Nahoon had been
twice wounded, and there remained to him but one sound arm wherewith
to strike. Presently forced to earth by the white man's iron strength,
the soldier was down, nor could he rise again.

"Now we will make an end," muttered Hadden savagely, and he turned to
seek the assegai, then staggered slowly back with starting eyes and
reeling gait. For there before him, still clad in her white robe, a
spear in her hand, stood the spirit of Nanea!

"Think of it," he said to himself, dimly remembering the words of the
/inyanga/, "when you stand face to face with the ghost of the dead in
the Home of the Dead."

There was a cry and a flash of steel; the broad spear leapt towards
him to bury itself in his breast. He swayed, he fell, and presently
Black Heart clasped that great reward which the word of the Bee had
promised Him.


"Nahoon! Nahoon!" murmured a soft voice, "awake, it is no ghost, but I
--Nanea--I, your living wife, to whom my /Ehlose/[*] has given it me
to save you."

[*] Guardian Spirit.

Nahoon heard and opened his eyes to look and his madness left him.

"Welcome, wife," he said faintly, "now I will live since Death has
brought you back to me in the House of the Dead."


To-day Nahoon is one of the Indunas of the English Government in
Zululand, and there are children about his kraal. It was from the lips
of none other than Nanea his wife that the teller of this tale heard
its substance.

The Bee also lives and practises as much magic as she dares under the
white man's rule. On her black hand shines a golden ring shaped like a
snake with ruby eyes, and of this trinket the Bee is very proud.

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