The Ivory Child

by H. Rider Haggard

  Well, during those two years many things befell me. First of all, incompany with my old friend Sir Stephen Somers, I made the expedition toPongoland in search of the wonderful orchid which he desired to addto his collection. I have already written of that journey and ourextraordinary adventures, and need therefore allude to it no more here,except to say that during the course of it I was sorely tempted totravel to the territory north of the lake in which the Pongos dwelt.Much did I desire to see whether Messrs. Harut and Marut would in truthappear to conduct me to the land where the wonderful elephant which wassupposed to be animated by an evil spirit was waiting to be killed bymy rifle. However, I resisted the impulse, as indeed our circumstancesobliged me to do. In the end we returned safely to Durban, and here Icame to the conclusion that never again would I risk my life on such madexpeditions.

  Owing to circumstances which I have detailed elsewhere I was now inpossession of a considerable sum of cash, and this I determined to layout in such a fashion as to make me independent of hunting and tradingin the wilder regions of Africa. As usual when money is forthcoming, anopportunity soon presented itself in the shape of a gold mine which hadbeen discovered on the borders of Zululand, one of the first that wasever found in those districts. A Jew trader named Jacob brought it tomy notice and offered me a half share if I would put up the capitalnecessary to work the mine. I made a journey of inspection and convincedmyself that it was indeed a wonderful proposition. I need not enter intothe particulars nor, to tell the truth, have I any desire to do so, forthe subject is still painful to me, further than to say that this Jewand some friends of his panned out visible gold before my eyes andthen revealed to me the magnificent quartz reef from which, as theydemonstrated, it had been washed in the bygone ages of the world. Thenews of our discovery spread like wildfire, and as, whatever else Imight be, everyone knew that I was honest, in the end a small companywas formed with Allan Quatermain, Esq., as the chairman of the Bona FideGold Mine, Limited.

  Oh! that company! Often to this day I dream of it when I haveindigestion.

  Our capital was small, L10,000, of which the Jew, who was well namedJacob, and his friends, took half (for nothing of course) as thepurchase price of their rights. I thought the proportion large and saidso, especially after I had ascertained that these rights had cost themexactly three dozen of square-face gin, a broken-down wagon, four cowspast the bearing age and L5 in cash. However, when it was pointed outto me that by their peculiar knowledge and genius they had located andprovided the value of a property of enormous potential worth, moreoverthat this sum was to be paid to them in scrip which would only berealizable when success was assured and not in money, after a night ofanxious consideration I gave way.

  Personally, before I consented to accept the chairmanship, which carriedwith it a salary of L100 a year (which I never got), I bought and paidfor in cash, shares to the value of L1,000 sterling. I remember thatJacob and his friends seemed surprised at this act of mine, as theyhad offered to give me five hundred of their shares for nothing "inconsideration of the guarantee of my name." These I refused, saying thatI would not ask others to invest in a venture in which I had no actualmoney stake; whereon they accepted my decision, not without enthusiasm.In the end the balance of L4,000 was subscribed and we got to work. Workis a good name for it so far as I was concerned, for never in all mydays have I gone through so harrowing a time.

  We began by washing a certain patch of gravel and obtained results whichseemed really astonishing. So remarkable were they that on publicationthe shares rose to 10s. premium. Jacob and Co. took advantage ofthis opportunity to sell quite half of their bonus holding to eagerapplicants, explaining to me that they did so not for personal profit,which they scorned, but "to broaden the basis of the undertaking byadmitting fresh blood."

  It was shortly after this boom that the gravel surrounding the richpatch became very gravelly indeed, and it was determined that we shouldbuy a small battery and begin to crush the quartz from which the goldwas supposed to flow in a Pactolian stream. We negotiated for thatbattery through a Cape Town firm of engineers--but why follow themelancholy business in all its details? The shares began to decrease invalue. They shrank to their original price of L1, then to 15s., thento 10s. Jacob, he was managing director, explained to me that itwas necessary to "support the market," as he was already doing to anenormous extent, and that I as chairman ought to take a "lead in thisgood work" in order to show my faith in the concern.

  I took a lead to the extent of another L500, which was all that I couldafford. I admit that it was a shock to such trust in human nature asremained to me when I discovered subsequently that the 1,000 shareswhich I bought for my L500 had really been the property of Jacob,although they appeared to be sold to me in various other names.

  The crisis came at last, for before that battery was delivered ouravailable funds were exhausted, and no one would subscribe anotherhalfpenny. Debentures, it is true, had been issued and taken up to theextent of about L1,000 out of the L5,000 offered, though who bought themremained at the time a mystery to me. Ultimately a meeting was called toconsider the question of liquidating the company, and at this meeting,after three sleepless nights, I occupied the chair.

  When I entered the room, to my amazement I found that of the fivedirectors only one was present besides myself, an honest old retiredsea captain who had bought and paid for 300 shares. Jacob and the twofriends who represented his interests had, it appeared, taken ship thatmorning for Cape Town, whither they were summoned to attend variousrelatives who had been seized with illness.

  It was a stormy meeting at first. I explained the position to the bestof my ability, and when I had finished was assailed with a number ofquestions which I could not answer to the satisfaction of myself orof anybody else. Then a gentleman, the owner of ten shares, who hadevidently been drinking, suggested in plain language that I had cheatedthe shareholders by issuing false reports.

  I jumped up in a fury and, although he was twice my size, asked him tocome and argue the question outside, whereon he promptly went away. Thisincident excited a laugh, and then the whole truth came out. A man withcoloured blood in him stood up and told a story which was subsequentlyproved to be true. Jacob had employed him to "salt" the mine by mixinga heavy sprinkling of gold in the gravel we had first washed (which thecoloured man swore he did in innocence), and subsequently had defraudedhim of his wages. That was all. I sank back in my chair overcome. Thensome good fellow in the audience, who had lost money himself in theaffair and whom I scarcely knew, got up and made a noble speech whichwent far to restore my belief in human nature.

  He said in effect that it was well known that I, Allan Quatermain,after working like a horse in the interests of the shareholders, hadpractically ruined myself over this enterprise, and that the real thiefwas Jacob, who had made tracks for the Cape, taking with him a largecash profit resulting from the sale of shares. Finally he concluded bycalling for "three cheers for our honest friend and fellow sufferer, Mr.Allan Quatermain."

  Strange to say the audience gave them very heartily indeed. I thankedthem with tears in my eyes, saying that I was glad to leave the room aspoor as I had ever been, but with a reputation which my conscience aswell as their kindness assured me was quite unblemished.

  Thus the winding-up resolution was passed and that meeting came toan end. After shaking hands with my deliverer from a most unpleasantsituation, I walked homewards with the lightest heart in the world. Mymoney was gone, it was true; also my over-confidence in others had ledme to make a fool of myself by accepting as fact, on what I believedto be the evidence of my eyes, that which I had not sufficient expertknowledge to verify. But my honour was saved, and as I have again andagain seen in the course of life, money is nothing when compared withhonour, a remark which Shakespeare made long ago, though like many othertruths this is one of which a full appreciation can only be gained bypersonal experience.

  Not very far from the place where our meeting had been held I passed aside street
then in embryo, for it had only one or two houses situatedin their gardens and a rather large and muddy sluit of water runningdown one side at the edge of the footpath. Save for two people thisstreet was empty, but that pair attracted my attention. They werea white man, in whom I recognized the stout and half-intoxicatedindividual who had accused me of cheating the company and then departed,and a withered old Hottentot who at that distance, nearly a hundredyards away, much reminded me of a certain Hans.

  This Hans, I must explain, was originally a servant of my father, whowas a missionary in the Cape Colony, and had been my companion inmany adventures. Thus in my youth he and I alone escaped when Dingaanmurdered Retief and his party of Boers,[*] and he had been one of myparty in our quest for the wonderful orchid, the record of which I havewritten down in "The Holy Flower."

  [*] See the book called "Marie."--Editor.

  Hans had his weak points, among which must be counted his love ofliquor, but he was a gallant and resourceful old fellow as indeed he hadamply proved upon that orchid-seeking expedition. Moreover he loved mewith a love passing the love of women. Now, having acquired somemoney in a way I need not stop to describe--for is it not writtenelsewhere?--he was settled as a kind of little chief on a farm not veryfar from Durban, where he lived in great honour because of the fame ofhis deeds.

  The white man and Hans, if Hans it was, were engaged in violentaltercation whereof snatches floated to me on the breeze, spoken in theDutch tongue.

  "You dirty little Hottentot!" shouted the white man, waving a stick,"I'll cut the liver out of you. What do you mean by nosing about afterme like a jackal?" And he struck at Hans, who jumped aside.

  "Son of a fat white sow," screamed Hans in answer (for the moment Iheard his voice I knew that it was Hans), "did you dare to call the Baasa thief? Yes, a thief, O Rooter in the mud, O Feeder on filth and worms,O Hog of the gutter--the Baas, the clipping of whose nail is worthmore than you and all your family, he whose honour is as clear as thesunlight and whose heart is cleaner than the white sand of the sea."

  "Yes, I did," roared the white man; "for he got my money in the goldmine."

  "Then, hog, why did you run away. Why did you not wait to tell him sooutside that house?"

  "I'll teach you about running away, you little yellow dog," replied theother, catching Hans a cut across the ribs.

  "Oh! you want to see me run, do you?" said Hans, skipping back a fewyards with wonderful agility. "Then look!"

  Thus speaking he lowered his head and charged like a buffalo. Fairin the middle he caught that white man, causing him to double up, flybackwards and land with a most resounding splash in the deepest part ofthe muddy sluit. Here I may remark that, as his shins are the weakest,a Hottentot's head is by far the hardest and most dangerous part of him.Indeed it seems to partake of the nature of a cannon ball, for,without more than temporary disturbance to its possessor, I have seen ahalf-loaded wagon go over one of them on a muddy road.

  Having delivered this home thrust Hans bolted round a corner anddisappeared, while I waited trembling to see what happened to hisadversary. To my relief nearly a minute later he crept out of the sluitcovered with mud and dripping with water and hobbled off slowly down thestreet, his head so near his feet that he looked as though he had beenfolded in two, and his hands pressed upon what I believe is medicallyknown as the diaphragm. Then I also went upon my way roaring withlaughter. Often I have heard Hottentots called the lowest of mankind,but, reflected I, they can at any rate be good friends to those whotreat them well--a fact of which I was to have further proof ere long.

  By the time I reached my house and had filled my pipe and sat myselfdown in the dilapidated cane chair on the veranda, that natural reactionset in which so often follows rejoicing at the escape from a greatdanger. It was true that no one believed I had cheated them over thatthrice-accursed gold mine, but how about other matters?

  I mused upon the Bible narrative of Jacob and Esau with a new and verypoignant sympathy for Esau. I wondered what would become of my Jacob.Jacob, I mean the original, prospered exceedingly as a result ofhis deal in porridge, and, as thought I, probably would his artfuldescendant who so appropriately bore his name. As a matter of fact I donot know what became of him, but bearing his talents in mind I thinkit probable that, like Van Koop, under some other patronymic he has nowbeen rewarded with a title by the British Government. At any rate Ihad eaten the porridge in the shape of worthless but dearly purchasedshares, after labouring hard at the chase of the golden calf, whilebrother Jacob had got my inheritance, or rather my money. Probably hewas now counting it over in sovereigns upon the ship and sniggering ashe thought of the shareholders' meeting with me in the chair. Well,he was a thief and would run his road to whatever end is appointed forthieves, so why should I bother my head more about him? As I had kept myhonour--let him take my savings.

  But I had a son to support, and now what was I to do with scarcely threehundred pounds, a good stock of guns and this little Durban propertyleft to me in the world? Commerce in all its shapes I renounced onceand for ever. It was too high--or too low--for me; so it would seem thatthere remained to me only my old business of professional hunting. Onceagain I must seek those adventures which I had forsworn when my evilstar shone so brightly over a gold mine. What was it to be? Elephants, Isupposed, since these are the only creatures worth killing from a moneypoint of view. But most of my old haunts had been more or less shot out.The competition of younger professionals, of wandering backveld Boersand even of poaching natives who had obtained guns, was growing severe.If I went at all I should have to travel farther afield.

  Whilst I meditated thus, turning over the comparative advantagesor disadvantages of various possible hunting grounds in my mind, myattention was caught by a kind of cough that seemed to proceed from thefarther side of a large gardenia bush. It was not a human cough, butrather resembled that made by a certain small buck at night, probablyto signal to its mate, which of course it could not be as there were nobuck within several miles. Yet I knew it came from a human throat, forhad I not heard it before in many an hour of difficulty and danger?

  "Draw near, Hans," I said in Dutch, and instantly out of a clump ofaloes that grew in front of the pomegranate hedge, crept the witheredshape of the old Hottentot, as a big yellow snake might do. Why heshould choose this method of advance instead of that offered by thegarden path I did not know, but it was quite in accordance with hissecretive nature, inherited from a hundred generations of ancestors whospent their lives avoiding the observation of murderous foes.

  He squatted down in front of me, staring in a vacant way at the fierceball of the westering sun without blinking an eyelid, just as a vulturedoes.

  "You look to me as though you had been fighting, Hans," I said. "Thecrown of your hat is knocked out; you are splashed with mud and there isthe mark of a stick upon your left side."

  "Yes, Baas. You are right as usual, Baas. I had a quarrel with a manabout sixpence that he owed me, and knocked him over with my head,forgetting to take my hat off first. Therefore it is spoiled, for whichI am sorry, as it was quite a new hat, not two years old. The Baas gaveit me. He bought it in a store at Utrecht when we were coming back fromPongoland."

  "Why do you lie to me?" I asked "You have been fighting a white manand for more than sixpence. You knocked him into a sluit and the mudsplashed up over you."

  "Yes, Baas, that is so. Your spirit speaks truly to you of the matter.Yet it wanders a little from the path, since I fought the white man forless than sixpence. I fought him for love, which is nothing at all."

  "Then you are even a bigger fool than I took you for, Hans. What do youwant now?"

  "I want to borrow a pound, Baas. The white man will take me beforethe magistrate, and I shall be fined a pound, or fourteen days in the_trunk_ (i.e. jail). It is true that the white man struck me first, butthe magistrate will not believe the word of a poor old Hottentot againsthis, and I have no witness. He will say, 'Hans, you were drunk again.Hans, you are a liar an
d deserve to be flogged, which you will be nexttime. Pay a pound and ten shillings more, which is the price of goodwhite justice, or go to the _trunk_ for fourteen days and make basketsthere for the great Queen to use.' Baas, I have the price of the justicewhich is ten shillings, but I want to borrow the pound for the fine."

  "Hans, I think that just now you are better able to lend me a pound thanI am to lend one to you. My bag is empty, Hans."

  "Is it so, Baas? Well, it does not matter. If necessary I can makebaskets for the great white Queen to put her food in, for fourteen days,or mats on which she will wipe her feet. The _trunk_ is not such a badplace, Baas. It gives time to think of the white man's justice and tothank the Great One in the Sky, because the little sins one did not dohave been found out and punished, while the big sins one did do,such as--well, never mind, Baas--have not been found out at all. Yourreverend father, the Predikant, always taught me to have a thankfulheart, Baas, and when I remember that I have only been in the _trunk_for three months altogether who, if all were known, ought to have beenthere for years, I remember his words, Baas."

  "Why should you go to the _trunk_ at all, Hans, when you are rich andcan pay a fine, even if it were a hundred pounds?"

  "A month or two ago it is true I was rich, Baas, but now I am poor. Ihave nothing left except ten shillings."

  "Hans," I said severely, "you have been gambling again; you have beendrinking again. You have sold your property and your cattle to pay yourgambling debts and to buy square-face gin."

  "Yes, Baas, and for no good it seems; though it is not true that I havebeen drinking. I sold the land and the cattle for L650, Baas, and withthe money I bought other things."

  "What did you buy?" I said.

  He fumbled first in one pocket of his coat and then in the other, andultimately produced a crumpled and dirty-looking piece of paper thatresembled a bank-note. I took and examined this document and next minutenearly fainted. It certified that Hans was the proprietor of I know nothow many debentures or shares, I forget which they were, in the BonaFide Gold Mine, Limited, that same company of which I was the unluckychairman, in consideration for which he had paid a sum of over sixhundred and fifty pounds.

  "Hans," I said feebly, "from whom did you buy this?"

  "From the baas with the hooked nose, Baas. He who was named Jacob, afterthe great man in the Bible of whom your father, the Predikant, used totell us, that one who was so slim and dressed himself up in a goatskinand gave his brother mealie porridge when he was hungry, after he hadcome in from shooting buck, Baas, and got his farm and cattle, Baas, andthen went to Heaven up a ladder, Baas."

  "And who told you to buy them, Hans?"

  "Sammy, Baas, he who was your cook when we went to Pongoland, he who hidin the mealie-pit when the slavers burned Beza-Town and came out halfcooked like a fowl from the oven. The Baas Jacob stopped at Sammy'shotel, Baas, and told him that unless he bought bits of paper like this,of which he had plenty, you would be brought before the magistrate andsent to the _trunk_, Baas. So Sammy bought some, Baas, but not many forhe had only a little money, and the Baas Jacob paid him for all he ateand drank with other bits of paper. Then Sammy came to me and showed mewhat it was my duty to do, reminding me that your reverend father, thePredikant, had left you in my charge till one of us dies, whether youwere well or ill and whether you got better or got worse--just like awhite wife, Baas. So I sold the farm and the cattle to a friend of theBaas Jacob's, at a very low price, Baas, and that is all the story."

  I heard and, to tell the honest truth, almost I wept, since the thoughtof the sacrifice which this poor old Hottentot had made for my sake onthe instigation of a rogue utterly overwhelmed me.

  "Hans," I asked recovering myself, "tell me what was that new name whichthe Zulu captain Mavovo gave you before he died, I mean after you hadfired Beza-Town and caught Hassan and his slavers in their own trap?"

  Hans, who had suddenly found something that interested him extremelyout at sea, perhaps because he did not wish to witness my grief, turnedround slowly and answered:

  "Mavovo named me Light-in-Darkness, and by that name the Kafirs know menow, Baas, though some of them call me Lord-of-the-Fire."

  "Then Mavovo named you well, for indeed, Hans, you shine like a light inthe darkness of my heart. I whom you think wise am but a fool, Hans, whohas been tricked by a _vernuker_, a common cheat, and he has tricked youand Sammy as well. But as he has shown me that man can be very vile, youhave shown me that he can be very noble; and, setting the one againstthe other, my spirit that was in the dust rises up once more like awithered flower after rain. Light-in-Darkness, although if I had tenthousand pounds I could never pay you back--since what you have givenme is more than all the gold in the world and all the land and all thecattle--yet with honour and with love I will try to pay you," and I heldout my hand to him.

  He took it and pressed it against his wrinkled old forehead, thenanswered:

  "Talk no more of that, Baas, for it makes me sad, who am so happy. Howoften have you forgiven me when I have done wrong? How often have younot flogged me when I should have been flogged for being drunk and otherthings--yes, even when once I stole some of your powder and sold it tobuy square-face gin, though it is true I knew it was bad powder, not fitfor you to use? Did I thank you then overmuch? Why therefore should youthank me who have done but a little thing, not really to help you butbecause, as you know, I love gambling, and was told that this bit ofpaper would soon be worth much more than I gave for it. If it had provedso, should I have given you that money? No, I should have kept it myselfand bought a bigger farm and more cattle."

  "Hans," I said sternly, "if you lie so hard, you will certainly go tohell, as the Predikant, my father, often told you."

  "Not if I lie for you, Baas, or if I do it doesn't matter, except thatthen we should be separated by the big kloof written of in the Book,especially as there I should meet the Baas Jacob, as I very much want todo for a reason of my own."

  Not wishing to pursue this somewhat unchristian line of thought, Iinquired of him why he felt happy.

  "Oh! Baas," he answered with a twinkle in his little black eyes, "can'tyou guess why? Now you have very little money left and I have none atall. Therefore it is plain that we must go somewhere to earn money,and I am glad of that, Baas, for I am tired of sitting on that farm outthere and growing mealies and milking cows, especially as I am too oldto marry, Baas, as you are tired of looking for gold where there isn'tany and singing sad songs in that house of meeting yonder like you didthis afternoon. Oh! the Great Father in the skies knew what He was aboutwhen He sent the Baas Jacob our way. He beat us for our good, Baas, asHe does always if we could only understand."

  I reflected to myself that I had not often heard the doctrine of theChurch better or more concisely put, but I only said:

  "That is true, Hans, and I thank you for the lesson, the second you havetaught me to-day. But where are we to go to, Hans? Remember, it must beelephants."

  He suggested some places; indeed he seemed to have come provided with alist of them, and I sat silent making no comment. At length he finishedand squatted there before me, chewing a bit of tobacco I had given him,and looking up at me interrogatively with his head on one side, for allthe world like a dilapidated and inquisitive bird.

  "Hans," I said, "do you remember a story I told you when you came to seeme a year or more ago, about a tribe called the Kendah in whose countrythere is said to be a great cemetery of elephants which travel thereto die from all the land about? A country that lies somewhere to thenorth-east of the lake island on which the Pongo used to dwell?"

  "Yes, Baas."

  "And you said, I think, that you had never heard of such a people."

  "No, Baas, I never said anything at all. I have heard a good deal aboutthem."

  "Then why did you not tell me so before, you little idiot?" I askedindignantly.

  "What was the good, Baas? You were hunting gold then, not ivory. Whyshould I make you unhappy, and waste my own breath
by talking aboutbeautiful things which were far beyond the reach of either of us, far asthat sky?"

  "Don't ask fool's questions but tell me what you know, Hans. Tell me atonce."

  "This, Baas: When we were up at Beza-Town after we came back fromkilling the gorilla-god, and the Baas Stephen your friend lay sick, andthere was nothing else to do, I talked with everyone I could find worthtalking to, and they were not many, Baas. But there was one very oldwoman who was not of the Mazitu race and whose husband and childrenwere all dead, but whom the people in the town looked up to and fearedbecause she was wise and made medicines out of herbs, and told fortunes.I used to go to see her. She was quite blind, Baas, and fond of talkingwith me--which shows how wise she was. I told her all about the Pongogorilla-god, of which already she knew something. When I had done shesaid that he was as nothing compared with a certain god that shehad seen in her youth, seven tens of years ago, when she becamemarriageable. I asked her for that story, and she spoke it thus:

  "Far away to the north and east live a people called the Kendah, who areruled over by a sultan. They are a very great people and inhabit a mostfertile country. But all round their country the land is desolate andmanless, peopled only by game, for the reason that they will suffer noneto dwell there. That is why nobody knows anything about them: he thatcomes across the wilderness into that land is killed and never returnsto tell of it.

  "She told me also that she was born of this people, but fled becausetheir sultan wished to place her in his house of women, which she didnot desire. For a long while she wandered southwards, living on rootsand berries, till she came to desert land and at last, worn out, laydown to die. Then she was found by some of the Mazitu who were on anexpedition seeking ostrich feathers for war-plumes. They gave her foodand, seeing that she was fair, brought her back to their country, whereone of them married her. But of her own land she uttered only lyingwords to them because she feared that if she told the truth the gods whoguard its secrets would be avenged on her, though now when she was nearto death she dreaded them no more, since even the Kendah gods cannotswim through the waters of death. That is all she said about her journeybecause she had forgotten the rest."

  "Bother her journey, Hans. What did she say about her god and the Kendahpeople?"

  "This, Baas: that the Kendah have not one god but two, and not one rulerbut two. They have a good god who is a child-fetish" (here I started)"that speaks through the mouth of an oracle who is always a woman. Ifthat woman dies the god does not speak until they find another womanbearing certain marks which show that she holds the spirit of the god.Before the woman dies she always tells the priests in what land they areto look for her who is to come after her; but sometimes they cannot findher and then trouble falls because 'the Child has lost its tongue,' andthe people become the prey of the other god that never dies."

  "And what is that god, Hans?"

  "That god, Baas, is an elephant" (here I started again), "a very badelephant to which human sacrifice is offered. I think, Baas, that it isthe devil wearing the shape of an elephant, at least that is what shesaid. Now the sultan is a worshipper of the god that dwells in theelephant Jana" (here I positively whistled) "and so are most of thepeople, indeed all those among them who are black. For once far awayin the beginning the Kendah were two peoples, but the lighter-colouredpeople who worshipped the Child came down from the north and conqueredthe black people, bringing the Child with them, or so I understood her,Baas, thousands and thousands of years ago when the world was young.Since then they have flowed on side by side like two streams in the samechannel, never mixing, for each keeps its own colour. Only, she said,that stream which comes from the north grows weaker and that from thesouth more strong."

  "Then why does not the strong swallow up the weak?"

  "Because the weak are still the pure and the wise, Baas, or so the oldvrouw declared. Because they worship the good while the others worshipthe devil, and as your father the Predikant used to say, Good is thecock which always wins the fight at the last, Baas. Yes, when he seemsto be dead he gets up again and kicks the devil in the stomach andstands on him and crows, Baas. Also these northern folk are mightymagicians. Through their Child-fetish they give rain and fat seasons andkeep away sickness, whereas Jana gives only evil gifts that have to dowith cruelty and war and so forth. Lastly, the priests who rule throughthe Child have the secrets of wealth and ancient knowledge, whereas thesultan and his followers have only the might of the spear. This was thesong which the old woman sang to me, Baas."

  "Why did you not tell me of these matters when we were at Beza-Town andI could have talked with her myself, Hans?"

  "For two reasons, Baas. The first was that I feared, if I told you,you would wish to go on to find these people, whereas I was tired oftravelling and wanted to come to Natal to rest. The second was thaton the night when the old woman finished telling me her story, she wastaken sick and died, and therefore it would have been no use to bringyou to see her. So I saved it up in my head until it was wanted.Moreover, Baas, all the Mazitu declared that old woman to be thegreatest of liars."

  "She was not altogether a liar, Hans. Hear what I have learned," and Itold him of the magic of Harut and Marut and of the picture that I hadseemed to see of the elephant Jana and of the prayer that Harut andMarut had made to me, to all of which he listened quite stolidly. It isnot easy to astonish a Hottentot's brain, which often draws no accuratedividing-line between the possible and what the modern world holds to beimpossible.

  "Yes, Baas," he said when I had finished, "then it seems that the oldwoman was not such a liar after all. Baas, when shall we start afterthat hoard of dead ivory, and which way will you go? By Kilwa or throughZululand? It should be settled soon because of the seasons."

  After this we talked together for a long while, for with pockets asempty as mine were then, the problem seemed difficult, if not insoluble.