The Misadventures of Sherlock Holmes II

by Sebastian Wolfe (ed)

  ‘What?’ I said. His offer was so unexpected.

  Holmes, however, was not startled. He seemed to have anticipated the suggestion.

  ‘Such a project would require great expenses,’ he said calmly.

  ‘I believe it would. Tell me, what is the largest fee you ever received?’

  ‘The highest was in the case of the Priory School.

  Twelve thousand pounds.’

  Quickly, he added, ‘Of course, that sum was only my fee. Watson, as my colleague in the case, received the same amount.’

  ‘Really Holmes,’ I murmured.

  ‘Twenty-four thousand pounds,’ the baronet said, frowning.

  ‘That fee was paid in 1901,’ Holmes said. ‘Inflation has sent prices sky-high since then, and the income tax rate is ascending as if it were a rocket.’

  ‘For Heaven’s sake, Holmes!’ I cried. ‘I do not see the necessity for this fishmarket bargaining! Surely . . .’ Holmes coldly interrupted. ‘You will please leave the financial arrangements to me, the senior partner and the true professional in this matter.’

  ‘You’ll antagonize Sir Mowgli and . . .’

  ‘Would sixty thousand pounds be adequate?’ the baronet said.

  ‘Well,’ Holmes said, hesitating, ‘God knows how wartime conditions will continue to cheapen the price of money in the next few years.’

  The baronet turned the knife over as if he were considering using it.

  ‘You are most generous,’ Holmes said quickly. ‘Sixty thousand pounds . . . quite satisfactory.’

  I could not understand why the baronet would hire anyone to look into his claim unless he truly believed that it was valid. But Holmes, I was certain from his expression, did not have the same faith. I was wondering how I could find out just what Holmes was thinking when the baronet changed the subject.

  ‘I travelled in this area before I agreed to make the movie. I went alone, unencumbered by a safari, and I discovered, rediscovered, I should say, this hidden land, I said nothing about it when I returned to civilization because I did not want these people invaded by hordes of Europeans bearing their usual gifts of gin, disease, and their thousand means of exploitation.’

  He paused, then said, ‘I also discovered that this is the land of Zu-Vendis.’

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘You mean that the unknown civilization described by H. Rider Haggard in his novel, Allan Quatermain, is not fiction?’

  Exactly,’ the baronet said. Haggard presented the true adventures of the hunter and explorer. Allan Quatermain, as fiction because he, like me, did not want this country devastated.’

  ‘Then we are the prisoners of the people of Zu-Vendis?’ I said.

  ‘Not for long, if I can help it,’ said the baronet. ‘However, either Quatermain or his agent and editor, Haggard, exaggerated the size of Zu-Vendis. It was supposed to be about the size of France but actually covered an area equal to that of Liechtenstein. In the main, however, except for the size of and location of Zu-Vendis, Quatermain’s account is true. He was accompanied on his expedition by two Englishmen, a baronet, Sir Henry Curtis, and a naval captain, John Good. And that great Zulu warrior, Umslopogaas, a man whom I would have liked to have known. After the Zulu and Quatermain died, Curtis sent Quatermain’s manuscript of the adventure to Haggard. Haggard apparently added some things of his own to give more verisimilitude to the chronicle. For one thing, he said that several British commissions were investigating Zu-Vendis with the intent of finding a more accessible means of travel to it. This was not so. Zu-Vendis was never found, except by me, and that is why most people concluded that the account was pure fiction.

  Shortly after the manuscript was sent out by one of the natives who had accompanied the Quatermain party, the entire valley except for this high end was flooded.’

  ‘Then poor Curtis and Good and their lovely Zu-Vendis wives were drowned?’ I said.

  ‘No,’ the baronet said. ‘They were among the dozen or so who reached safety. Apparently, they either could not get out of the valley then or decided to stay here. After all, Nylepthah, Curtis’ wife, was the queen, and she would not want to abandon her people, few though they were. The two Englishmen settled down, taught the people the use of the bow, among other things, and died here. They were buried up in the hills.’

  ‘What a sad story!’ I said.

  ‘All people must die,’ Sir Mowgli replied, as if that told the whole story of the world. And perhaps it did.

  He looked out at the temple, saying, ‘That woman at whom you have been staring with a non-quite-scientific detachment . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ I said.

  ‘Her name is also Nylepthah. She is the granddaughter of both Good and Curtis.’

  ‘Will wonders never cease!’ I said.

  The baronet cleared his throat and said, ‘Oh, yes, before I forget it . . .’

  Holmes smiled as if he had been expecting that the baronet would recall something.

  ‘I will pay you your fee as soon as possible. But you must not begin your investigation until I tell you that the time is ripe for it. I am a very busy man, I have much business to conduct, and it might be inconvenient for me to have to attend to you until I have certain matters cleared up. This might take a long time. Meanwhile, you will have the fee in your hands, and there will be no question asked about how you two handle the sums.

  ‘Do you understand?’

  ‘Perfectly, Holmes said, smiling even more broadly. ‘We will await your consent to begin the investigation. No matter how much time passes.’

  ‘Ah, then you do understand,’ the baronet said quietly. ‘Yes. The fee will enable me to live quite well in my retirement. I had enough when I first retired, but many of my investments went bad, and . . .’

  ‘Can’t you think about anything but money, Holmes!’ I said. ‘We must do something about that poor British woman parading around naked before those savages and held in close captivity!’

  The baronet shrugged and said, ‘It’s their custom.’

  ‘We must rescue her and get her back to the home of her ancestors!’ I cried.

  ‘Be quiet, Watson, or you’ll have the whole pack howling for our blood,’ Holmes growled. ‘She seems quite contented with her lot. Or could it be,’ he added, looking hard at me, ‘that you have once agin fallen into love?’

  He made it sound as if the grand passion were an open privy. Blushing, I said, ‘I must admit that there is a certain feeling . . .’

  ‘Well, the fair sex is your department,’ he said. ‘But really, Watson, at your age!’

  (’The Americans have a proverb,’ I said. ‘The older the buck, the stiffer the horn.’)

  ‘Be quiet, both of you,’ the baronet said. ‘I permitted the Zu-Vendis to capture you because I knew you’d be safe for a while. I drove the Germans this way because I expected that they would, like you, be picked up by the Zu-Vendis. Tomorrow night, all four of you prisoners are secheduled to be sacrificed on the temple altar. I got back an hour ago to get you two out.’

  ‘That was cutting it close, wasn’t it?’ Holmes said.

  ‘You mean to leave Von Bork and Reich here?’ I said. ‘To be slaughtered like sheep? And what about the woman, Nylepthah? What kind of life is that, being confined from birth to death in that house, being denied the love and companionship of a husband, forced to murder poor devils of captives?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Holmes. ‘Reich is a very decent fellow and should be treated like a prisoner of war. I wouldn’t mind at all if Von Bork were to die, but only he knows the location of the SP papers. The fate of Britain, of her allies, hangs on those papers. As for the woman, well, she is of good British stock and it seems a shame to leave her here in this squalidness.’

  ‘So she can go to London and perhaps live in squalour there?’ the baronet said.

  ‘I’ll see to it that that does not happen,’ I said. ‘You can have back my fee if you take that woman along.’

  The baronet laughed softly and said, ‘I couldn�
�t refuse a man who loves love more than he loves money. And you can keep the fee.’

  XII

  At some time before dawn, the baronet entered our hut. The Germans were also waiting for him, since we had told them what to expect if they did not leave with us. He gestured for silence, unnecessarily, I thought, and we followed him outside. The two guards, gagged and trussed-up, lay by the door. Near them stood Nylepthah, also gagged, her hands bound before her and rope hobbling her. Her glorious body was concealed in a cloak. The baronet removed the hobble, gestured to us, took the woman by the arm, and we walked silently through the village. Out immediate goal was the beach, where we intended to steal two boats. We would paddle to the foot of the cliff on top of which was the bamboo boom and ascend the ropes. Then we would cut the rope so that we could not be followed. Sir Mowgli had come down on the rope after disposing of the guards at the boom. He would climb back up the rope and then pull us up.

  Our plans died in the bud. As we approached the beach, we saw torches flaring on the water. Presently, as we watched from behind a hut, we saw fishermen paddling in with their catch of night-caught fish. Someone stirred in the hut beside which we crouched, and before we could get away, a woman, yawning and stretching came out. She must have been waiting for her fisherman husband. Whatever the case, she surprised us.

  The baronet moved swiftly, but too late, toward her. She screamed loudly, and though she quit almost immediately, she had aroused the village.

  There is no need to go into detail about the long and exhausting rim we made through the village, while the people poured out, and up the slopes toward the faraway pass in the precipices. The baronet smote right and left and before him, and men and women went down like the Philistines before Samson. We were armed with the short swords he had stolen from the armory and so were of some aid to him. But by the time we had left the village and reached the fields, Holmes and I were breathing very hard.

  ‘You two help the woman along between you,’ Sir Mowgli commanded the Germans. Before we could protest, though what good it would have done if we had I don’t know, we were picked up, one under each arm, and carried off. Burdened though he was, the baronet ran faster than the three behind him. The ground, only about a foot away from my face since I was dangling like a rag doll in his arm, reeled by. After about a mile. Sir Mowgli stopped and released us. He did this my simply dropping us. My face hit the dirt at the same time my knees did. I was somewhat pained, but I thought it indiscreet to complain. Holmes, however, displayed a knowledge of swear words which would have delighted a dock worker. The baronet ignored him, urging us to push on. Far behind us we could see the torches of our pursuers and hear their clamour.

  By dawn the Zu-Vendis had gotten closer. All of us, except for the indefatigable Wolf-Man, were tiring swiftly. The pass was only a half mile away, and once we were through that, he said, we would be safe. The savages behind us, though, were beginning to shoot their arrows at us.

  ‘We can’t get through the pass anyway!’ I said between gasps to Holmes. ‘We have no equipment to keep the bees of us! If the arrows don’t kill us, the bee-stings will!’

  Ahead of us, where the hills suddenly moved in and formed the entrance to the path, a vast buzzing filled the air. Fifty thousand tiny, but deadly, insects swirled in a thick cloud as they prepared to voyage to the sea of flowers which held the precious nectar.

  We stopped to catch our breath and consider the situation.

  ‘We can’t go back and we can’t go ahead!’ I said. ‘What shall we do?’

  The baronet pointed at the nearby hill, at the base of which was the white clay used by the Zu-Vendis to make their fine pots and dishes.

  ‘Coat yourselves with that!’ he said. ‘It should be somewhat of a shield!’ And he hastened to take his own advice.

  I hesitated. The baronet had stripped off his loin-cloth and had jumped into the stream which ran nearby. Then he had scooped out with his hands a quantity of clay, had mixed it with water, and was smearing it over him everywhere. Holmes was removing his clothing before going into the stream. The Germans were getting ready to do likewise, while the beautiful Nylepthah stood abandoned. I did the only thing a gentleman could do. I went to her and removed her cloak, under which she wore nothing. I told her in my halting Zu-Vendis that I was ready to sacrifice myself for her. Though the bees, alarmed, were now moving in a great cloud toward us, I would make sure that I smeared the clay all over her before I took care of myself.

  Nylepthah said, ‘I know an easier way to escape the bees. Let me run back to the village.’

  ‘Poor deluded girl!’ I said. ‘You do not know what is best for you! Trust me, and I will see you safely to England, the home of your ancestors. And then . . .’

  I did not get a chance to promise to marry her. Holmes and the Germans cried out, causing me to look up just in time to see Sir Mowgli falling unconscious to the ground. An arrow had hit him in the head, and though it had struck a glancing blow, it had knocked him out and made a large nasty wound.

  I thought we were indeed lost. Behind us was the howling hordes of savages, their arrows and spears and axes flying through the air at us. Ahead was a swarm of giant bees, a cloud so dense that I could barely see the hills behind them. The buzzing was deafening. The one man who was strong enough and jungle wise enough to pull us through was out of action for the time being. And if the bees attacked soon, which they would do, he would be in that state permanently. So would all of us.

  Holmes shouted at me. ‘Never mind taking advantage of that woman, Watson! Come here, quickly, and help me!’

  ‘This is no time to indulge in jealousy, Holmes,’ I muttered, but nevertheless I obeyed him. ‘No, Watson,’ Holmes said. ‘I’ll put on the clay! You daub on me that excellent black dirt there along the banks of the stream! Put it on in stripes, thus, white and black alternating!’

  ‘Have you gone mad, Holmes?’

  ‘There’s no time to talk,’ said Holmes. ‘The bees are almost upon us! Oh, they are deadly, deadly, Watson! Quick, the mud!’

  Within a minute, striped like a zebra, Holmes stood before me. He ran to the pile of clothes and took from the pocket of his jacket the large magnifying glass that had been his faithful companion all these years. And then he did something that caused me to cry out in utter despair. He ran directly toward the deadly buzzing cloud.

  I shouted after him as I ran to drag him away from his futile and senseless act. It was too late to get him away from the swiftly advancing insects. I knew that, just as I knew that I would die horribly with him. Nevertheless, I would be with him. We had been comrades too many years for me to even contemplate for a second abandoning him.

  He turned when he heard my voice and shouted, ‘Go back, Watson! Go back! Get the others to one side! Drag the baronet out of their path! I know what I’m doing! Get away! I command you, Watson!’

  The conditioning of our many years of association turned me and sent me back to the group. I’d obeyed his orders too long to refuse them now. But I was weeping, convinced that he was out of his mind, or, if he did have a plan, it would fail. I got Reich to help me drag the senseless and heavily bleeding baronet half into the stream, and I ordered Von Bork and Nylepthah to lie down in the stream. The clay coating, I was convinced, was not an adequate protection. We could submerge ourselves when the bees passed over us. The stream was only inches deep, but perhaps the water flowing over our bodies would discourage the insects.

  Lying in the stream, holding Sir Mowgli’s head up to keep him from drowning, I watched Holmes.

  He had indeed gone crazy. He was dancing around and around, stopping now and then to bend over and wiggle his buttocks in a most undignified manner. Then he would hold up the magnifying glass so that the sunlight flashed through it at the Zu-Vendis. These, by the way, had halted to stare open-mouthed at Holmes.

  ‘Whatever are you doing?’ I shouted.

  He shook his head angrily at me to indicate that I should keep quiet. At that mome
nt I became aware that he was himself making a loud buzzing sound. It was almost submerged in the louder noise of the swarm, but I was near enough to hear it faintly.

  Again and again Holmes whirled, danced, stopped, pointing his wriggling buttocks at the Zu-Vendis savages and letting the sun pass through the magnifying glass at a certain angle. His actions seemed to puzzle not only the humans but the bees. The swarm had stopped its forward movement and it was hanging in the air, seemingly pointed at Holmes.

  Suddenly, as Holmes completed his obscene dance for the seventh time, the swarm flew forward. I cried out, expecting to see him covered with the huge black-and-white striped horrors. But the mass split in two, leaving him an island in their midst. And then they were all gone, and the Zu-Vendis were running away screaming, their bodies black and fuzzy with a covering of bees. Some of them dropped in their flight, rolling back and forth, screaming, batting at the insects, and then becoming still and silent.

  I ran to Holmes, crying, ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘Do you remember your scepticism when I told you that I had made an astounding discovery? One that will enshrine my name among the greats in the hall of science?’

  ‘You don’t mean . . .?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, bees do have a language, even African bees. It is actually a system of signals, not a true language. Bees who have discovered a new source of honey return to the hive and there perform a dance which indicates clearly the direction of and the distance at which the honey lies. I have also discovered that the bee communicates the advent of an enemy to the swarm. It was this dance which I performed, and the swarm attacked the indicated enemy, The Zu-Vendis. The dance movements are intricate, and certain polarisations of light play a necessary part in the message. These I simulated with my magnifying glass. But come, Watson, let us get our clothes on and be off before the swarm returns! I do not think I can pull that trick again. We do not want to be the game afoot.’

  We got the baronet to his feet and half-carried him to the pass. Though he recovered consciousness, he seemed to have reverted to a totally savage state. He did not attack us but he regarded us suspiciously and made threatening growls if we got too close. We were at a loss to explain this frightening change in him. The frightening part came not so much from any danger he represented as from the dangers he was supposed to save us from. We had depended upon him to guide us and to feed us and protect us on the way back. Without him even the incomparable Holmes was lost.