“Welcome, Oh Mopa. What makes the white man here?”
Burgess was suddenly conscious that the cavern was full of people who were regarding him curiously.
“It was the order of Macabe that I bring him to this place,” answered Mopa. “I did not question her reason.”
CHAPTER VI
THE BEAST WALKS
As Macabe entered the hut Jan made an attempt to cover up the diamonds, but Macabe had seen them.
“I see that you have already found the stones.”
“What then?”
“It is nothing.” She took one in her hand and toyed with, it absently. “What is there in this that men should desire so strongly that they brave death for its possession?”
“It spells wealth to white men,” said Crompton.
“And you think to gain riches?”
“Even so.”
“Ten white men have entered the Valley seeking the stones. Yet only one lived to win his way back to the outside world.” A cruel smile passed slowly over her face.
“Take care, woman,” said Jan. “These are my friends and tomorrow they leave this place—with the stones. And I go with them.”
Macabe’s manner instantly changed.
“Nay, my Lord,” she pleaded, “that cannot be. You are the king. You were near death, but I saved you and made you king. Have you not wondered the reason thereof?”
“Many times, and now I am tired of wondering and ask you to tell me.”
“If you do not know,” she said softly, “it ill becomes me to tell you. You did a foolish thing today, Lord.”
“How say you?”
“In killing the leopard.”
“Would you have me stand idly by and see my friend torn to pieces before my eyes? Also,” Jan’s voice softened—“some thought I had for the maiden.”
“But you would not have saved the maiden. You were watching with the blood lust in your eyes.”
“That is true,” assented Jan.
“That is well. Tomorrow the sacrifice will be made.”
“Nay, that cannot be, Macabe. I have given my word that such things must cease.”
Macabe bridled.
“Do you think that you can set yourself against me? Against me—your fate is death. Tomorrow, therefore, you will say that the Spirits have ordered you to retract the words concerning the making of sacrifices to the Beast.”
“That I will never do.”
“Then kiss death.”
A dagger flashed, but Jan caught Macabe’s descending arm. With a cry of pain she let the weapon fall from her nerveless fingers, then turning she ran from the hut, pausing in the opening to say softly:
“I would not have killed you, Lord.”
“It must be,” said Jan in tones of disgust, “that I am becoming weak in mind as a woman. That I should have spared Baas Burgess that time had him in my hands was folly; that I should have permitted that Macabe to leave here alive was the work of a madman.”
“But you couldn’t have killed her, Jan. Besides,” Crompton turned to Harding, “I think she has a soft spot in her heart for Jan, don’t you?”
Dick nodded.
“The Baas means?”
“That Macabe would like to be your head wife, Jan.”
Jan swore, lustily denouncing the folly of women in general and Macabe in particular. He was interrupted in the middle of a particularly forceful and not quite delicate proverb by the entrance of Dorothy and Mam we.
Jan broke off abashed, and for all his tirade looked at Mamwe with something akin to tenderness.
“What did Macabe want?” asked Dorothy. “She wanted Jan here to give Mamwe up for sacrifice.”
Mamwe threw herself down at Jan’s feet and patted them with her hands.
“But you will not, Lord?”
He raised her up.
“Nay, maiden. You shall live to see your son’s children marry.”
“Thanks, Lord. If my son’s children be your son’s children I am well content.”
Jan turned hastily to Dorothy.
“Baas Dick was coming for you. He has something to show you.”
“What, Dick?”
“Look, Dorothy—diamonds.” She gave a little exclamation of delight.
Jan turned to Mamwe.
“What know you of Macabe, maiden?” he asked.
“Little, Lord. Save that she is a woman of mystery and that when she commands it is well to obey.”
“And if a man does not obey?”
“That man would die, Lord.”
“How?”
“No man knows. No man is with them when their time comes. They are taken away and no spoor is left save the mark of the Beast.” The girl shivered.
“Has no man followed the Beast?”
“Some have tried, but met death.”
“And that is all you know?”
She hesitated before answering.
“Aye, Lord, that is all.”
“But what of the sacrifices to the Leopards?” interposed Harding who had been listening.
“In that way the servants of the Beast remove from their path those who have offended them. I cross the will of Macabe, and lo! the Beast needed a fresh bride.”
“In what way did you offend Macabe?”
“I know not, white man.”
Ax Burgess noted the hostile glances of the men and women in the cavern, he wondered if he had been altogether wise in seeking the help of Macabe for the evil deed he had in mind. Had it been possible he would have left the place, but Mopa had disappeared and he did not know how to remove the boulder which covered the entrance to the cavern. So he waited, with an outward show of composure, for Macabe to appear.
An hour passed in silence, then suddenly he saw Macabe come forward with Mopa from behind the stone leopard.
“We have waited long for you, Macabe. What would you tell us?”
The speaker was a wizened old woman, whose voice sounded curiously like the croaking of a vulture. “It would seem,” she went on, “that you have done a great thing for us this day.”
“Do you mock me, Ekati? Do you desire to be fed to the Beasts?”
The woman broke into a shrill cackle of mirthless laughter.
“Ohe!” she cried, pointing a finger of derision at Macabe. “The king ordered that there should be no more blood sacrifices.”
“It is true, Macabe,” said yet another. “Your plan was a poor one. Let us kill this man, the Deliverer, and all will be as it was before.”
“Nay,” Macabe exclaimed vehemently. “He is mine. I shall be his head wife and so rule the people of the Valley—through him. As you well know, certain Headmen have protested strongly against the rule of the Beast, planning to appoint one of their number king. And this they would have done had we not played one against the other.
“But now I have forestalled them. I have given them a king and they will be content to do all that he commands.”
“But where does all this lead? This king that you have set up, has publicly gone against us. From this time on our rule is at an end. He has the ear of the people and we have not.”
“That may be well but—gaze fully upon me. Am I not altogether desirable? Is there any maiden in this Valley whose beauty is comparable to mine?”
Macabe was not boasting. She stated bluntly a self-evident fact.
“We know that you are altogether desirable, Macabe. But what then?”
“Then think you that the Deliverer will cross my will when I sit in the shadow of his hut? Trust me, all will yet be well.”
Burgess rose to his feet.
“Is it permitted that I speak?”
Macabe inclined her head.
“You do desire to be the head wife of the Deliverer?”
“I have chosen him to be my mate,” she answered coldly.
“That he will never be.”
“What mean you?”
“He is under the spell of the white girl, she has bewitched him. Aye, he has no e
yes for any woman, save only the moon flower—he has no eyes for you, whose beauty is as the glory of the sun.
“This then is my counsel. Take the white girl from his kraal and give her to me—she is rightly mine. That will break the spell she has over him and he will do all that you desire. The white men you can deal with afterward.
“Further, I would advise you to take many other maidens on the same day you take the white maiden. So will men go to the Deliverer saying that the Beast walks abroad and beg him to permit the sacrifices you desire.”
“What say you, sisters?” Macabe appealed to the others. “Do not the words of the white man sound good to your ears, brothers.”
“Aye. They are words of wisdom, Macabe, if they are true words.”
“Do you think, white man,” another asked Burgess, “that the Deliverer will see our way when the maiden has been taken from him?”
“Truly. When the girl has gone, he will see eye to eye with you.”
“It is good,” said Macabe as one determined upon a course of action. “Heed me. Tonight shall be the appointed time. Now get you gone and carry the message of the Beast to the people of the Valley. Whisper in their ears of the Beast’s vengeance. Let death walk about the Valley—a maiden shall be taken in every kraal. The white girl you shall not harm but shall bring to the cavern under the falling water.”
Macabe turned to Mopa.
“Take the white man, Mopa, to that place. There he shall wait his reward. And there he shall stay with the girl until I become the Deliverer’s head wife.”
“That is no way to reward me, Macabe,” he stammered. “To keep me a prisoner—”
But she had no ears for him.
Mopa touched his arm and Burgess meekly followed his guide to the cavern under the falls. Even, so, he would have resisted had he been armed.
* * * *
That night the valley resounded with the hunting cries of leopards. Next morning Jan was awakened by the murmuring of many voices outside his hut. Rising quickly he went outside and recognized, in the dim light of breaking day, many of the headmen.
At his appearance their murmuring ceased and they watched him in silence.
“What do you want, headmen?” Jan asked. “Your faces are sad. Has evil come upon you?”
“Aye, evil indeed. See here.” The speaker, one Tati by name, pointed to five deep scratches dangerously near to his jugular vein.
Jan laughed lightly.
“And is it to show me that that you come here before the rising of the sun? The wound is slight and you—I thought you were a man.”
“Judge us not too quickly, Deliverer. That I alone should be marked is nothing. But what if I tell you that all that you see here are so marked?”
“What has done this?” Jan asked uneasily. “Read me the riddle.”
“It is the Mark of the Beast,” they answered. “What’s the trouble, Jan?”
Jan’s face lighted up as he saw Dick and Crompton emerge from their hut.
With a grave face Crompton examined the wounds of the men.
“They were made by an animal,” he said. “But how.…?”
“That is what I was about to learn, Baas. Tell the story, Tati.”
“There is little to tell. In the night I was awakened from sleep. My hands and feet were bound, a gag was put into my mouth. A voice whispered in my ears, ‘I am the Spirit of the Beast. I am angry because you put me to scorn this day, because you have made a mock of my servants. Now go with speed to the hut of the Deliverer and tell him that the blood sacrifices must be made to me.’
“Then,” continued Tati, “I felt the claws of the Beast upon me and the blood spurted from the wound which he made. The hut was filled with the scent of the Beast and for a little while I knew no more.
“When I opened my eyes again I was surrounded by my wives. They were weeping bitterly. Rising to my feet—the women had loosened the bonds from my hands and feet, had taken the gag from my mouth—I asked what ailed them. Then they took me to the hut of my daughter. She was dead. The vein of the neck, that vein which contains the life blood, was opened.”
“Do you know, who did these things?” Dick asked as Tati concluded.
“Aye, white man. It was the spirit of the Beast. All these have suffered as I suffered.” Tati indicated the other headmen.
“The Beast punished us because no sacrifice was made.
“Therefore we have come to you, Oh Deliverer, praying that the sacrifice may be permitted today less a greater evil come upon us.”
“But if this is the work of the Spirits,” said Crompton, “why should they bind you, hand and foot? Why stop up your mouth?”
“It is not for us to question the work of the Spirits,” said Tati.
“But it is in my mind,” Dick put in, “that this deed is not of the Spirits, but of that crafty and evil woman Macabe.”
“Without doubt,” they agreed. “It is the work of Macabe. She is the Mistress of the Beast. What she commands, he performs.”
At that moment a muffled cry came from the hut which Dorothy shared with Mamwe.
Running, Jan and the two white men, came to the hut and discovered Mamwe bound securely. In her neck was a gaping wound.
Dorothy was nowhere to be seen, but on the floor of the hut were the footprints of a leopard.
Quickly they unbound the half-fainting Mamwe and Doc Crompton expertly bandaged the wound which, fortunately, just missed the jugular vein. As she showed signs of gaining strength, they questioned her regarding the affair.
“It is very little I know, Deliverer,” she said, “In the darkness it happened, and I could see no one. But they talked a little, thinking me dead. The white girl they have not harmed—they have taken her to the cavern under the falling water. Aye, I heard them say that they would do that. There the other white man awaits her.”
Dick hurried over to the hut which had been allotted to Burgess and returning reported that Burgess was not there.
“That is something gained,” said Crompton. “If Burgess has a hand in this, then, truly, we may be sure that it is not the work of the Spirits. And with men we can deal.”
“Why did Macabe chose you for the sacrifice yesterday?” Dick asked turning swiftly on Mamwe.
“Because I knew too much, white man.”
“What do you know?”
“My father, the Keeper of the Beasts,” said Mamwe, “has always had his abode among the caverns of the hills. It was because I knew the secret entrances into the caverns, and yet would not become one of the servants of the Beast, that Macabe was determined to put me to death.”
“And why would you not become a servant of the Beast?”
She made an expression indicative of disgust.
“They are dealers in bloodshed, Lord. They work in darkness, their hands are dyed with the blood of many of the people of the valley; old men and maidens, young women and children have fallen beneath them.”
“How can they do these things and yet no man suspect them?” asked Crompton?
“They are many in number, white man; and crafty. Also, the people think it is the work of the Spirits and accept their fate without question.”
“And you? You say it is not the work of the Spirits?”
“Have you looked well at the footprints that are in this hut?” she said simply.
Jan went down on his knees and followed the spoor. He traced it to the door, where it ended.
“The riddle grows harder,” he said. “If this was the work of leopards then they walk on two legs. Only the footprints of the fore-feet of the beasts can I find.”
“You will come with us, Mamwe,” said Jan, “and guide us to the lair of the Beast. But first I would speak to the headmen who have gathered about my hut.”
He went out, followed by the girl, Crompton and Harding.
“Headmen,” Jan began, “this evil has not passed us by. The white maiden has been taken away, Mamwe has been marked.”
“Then you will per
mit the sacrifice? Better that one die than that the whole valley should become a place of desolation.”
“That is not my intention. I know that this is the work of men—not of Spirits. Macabe gave the order for the killings—this time and in times past. How it is done is not yet known to us, but we will know before the setting sun. We go to the place of the Beast. The death of his servants shall bring peace to the valley.
“Do the servants of the Beast live in your kraals?”
“Aye. In every kraal lives one or more.”
“Then return to your huts and give orders to your young men to take prisoner all the servants of the Beast and keep them in safety.”
“But what of the Beast?”
“That is not known to us yet. Soon we shall know. But—will you obey my commands?”
“Aye,” they chorused, “but we are much afraid.”
CHAPTER VII
THE BIG CATS
Anhour later the four—Crompton, Dick, Jan and the girl, Mamwe—came to the tunnel leading to the cavern under the falls. At the boulder which hid the entrance to the meeting place of the servants of the beast, Mamwe stopped.
“It is here,” she said in a low voice, “that we enter the place of Macabe. Push lightly on the rock at this point, and it will roll away.”
Jan was about to follow out the girl’s instructions when he was stopped by Dick.
“We must get Missy, first,” he said. “You and Baas Crompton stay here while I go to the cavern with Mamwe.”
At the end of the tunnel Mamwe pressed at a projection in the wall. An opening appeared and through it Dick rushed into the cavern.
For a moment he could distinguish nothing in the dim light, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the half-darkness he could see Dorothy, struggling in the arms of Burgess.
With a hoarse cry of rage he rushed toward them.
Snarling, Burgess flung the girl from him and waited for Dick with arms outstretched before him.
Coming to close quarters, Dick aimed a tremendous blow at Burgess’ jaw. But Burgess quickly side-stepped and Dick, carried forward by the impetus of the blow, fell sprawlingly to the floor.
With the ferocity of a tiger Burgess was upon him, securing a choking grip on his throat. Confident that the victory was his, he laughed evilly and looked up triumphantly at Dorothy.
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