reflected that perhaps the noise was caused by the oxen pushing their way through the carelessly-closed entrance, and at any rate that I had better go to see. So I slipped on my boots and a coat and went without waking Hans or the boys, only taking with me a loaded, single-barrelled rifle which I used for shooting small buck, but no spare cartridges.
Now in front of the gateway of the cattle-kraal, shading it, grew a single big tree of the wild fig order. Passing under this tree I looked and saw that the gateway was quite securely closed, as now I remembered I had noted at sunset. Then I started to go back but had not stepped more than two or three paces when, in the bright moonlight, I saw the head of my smallest ox, a beast of the Zulu breed, suddenly appear over the top of the wall. About this there would have been nothing particularly astonishing, had it not been for the fact that this head belonged to a dead animal, as I could tell from the closed eyes and the hanging tongue.
“What in the name of goodness——” I began to myself, when my reflections were cut short by the appearance of another head, that of one of the biggest lions I ever saw, which had the ox by the throat, and with the enormous strength that is given to these creatures, by getting its back beneath the body, was deliberately hoisting it over the wall, to drag it away to devour at its leisure.
There was the brute within twelve feet of me, and what is more, it saw me as I saw it, and stopped, still holding the ox by the throat.
“What a chance for Allan Quatermain! Of course he shot it dead,” one can fancy anyone saying who knows me by repute, also that by the gift of God I am handy with a rifle. Well, indeed, it should have been, for even with the small-bore piece that I carried, a bullet ought to have pierced through the soft parts of its throat to the brain and to have killed that lion as dead as Julius Cæsar. Theoretically the thing was easy enough; indeed, although I was startled for a moment, by the time that I had the rifle to my shoulder I had little fear of the issue, unless there was a miss-fire, especially as the beast seemed so astonished that it remained quite still.
Then the unexpected happened as generally it does in life, particularly in hunting, which, in my case, is a part of life. I fired, but by misfortune the bullet struck the tip of the horn of that confounded ox, which tip either was or at that moment fell in front of the spot on the lion’s throat whereat half-unconsciously I had aimed. Result: the ball was turned and, departing at an angle, just cut the skin of the lion’s neck deeply enough to hurt it very much and to make it madder than all the hatters in the world.
Dropping the ox, with a most terrific roar it came over the wall at me—I remember that there seemed to be yards of it—I mean of the lion—in front of which appeared a cavernous mouth full of gleaming teeth.
I skipped back with much agility, also a little to one side, because there was nothing else to do, reflecting in a kind of inconsequent way, that after all Zikali’s Great Medicine was not worth a curse. The lion landed on my side of the wall and reared itself upon its hind legs before getting to business, towering high above me but slightly to my left.
Then I saw a strange thing. A shadow thrown by the moon flitted past me—all I noted of it was the distorted shape of a great, lifted axe, probably because the axe came first. The shadow fell and with it another shadow, that of a lion’s paw dropping to the ground. Next there was a most awful noise of roaring, and wheeling round I saw such a fray as never I shall see again. A tall, grim, black man was fighting the great lion, that now lacked one paw, but still stood upon its hind legs, striking at him with the other.
The man, who was absolutely silent, dodged the blow and hit back with the axe, catching the beast upon the breast with such weight that it came to the ground in a lopsided fashion, since now it had only one fore-foot on which to light.
The axe flashed up again and before the lion could recover itself, or do anything else, fell with a crash upon its skull, sinking deep into the head. After this all was over, for the beast’s brain was cut in two.
“I am here at the appointed time, Macumazahn,” said Umslopogaas, for it was he, as with difficulty he dragged his axe from the lion’s severed skull, “to find you watching by night as it is reported that you always do.”
“No,” I retorted, for his tone irritated me, “you are late, Bulalio, the moon has been up some hours.”
“I said, O Macumazahn, that I would meet you on the night of the full moon, not at the rising of the moon.”
“That is true,” I replied, mollified, “and at any rate you came at a good moment.”
“Yes,” he answered, “though as it happens in this clear light the thing was easy to anyone who can handle an axe. Had it been darker the end might have been different. But, Macumazahn, you are not so clever as I thought, since otherwise you would not have come out against a lion with a toy like that,” and he pointed to the little rifle in my hand.
“I did not know that there was a lion, Umslopogaas.”
“That is why you are not so clever as I thought, since of one sort or another there is always a lion which wise men should be prepared to meet, Macumazahn.”
“You are right again,” I replied.
At that moment Hans arrived upon the scene, followed at a discreet distance by the waggon boys, and took in the situation at a glance.
“The Great Medicine of the Opener-of-Roads has worked well,” was all he said.
“The great medicine of the Opener-of-Heads has worked better,” remarked Umslopogaas with a little laugh and pointing to his red axe. “Never before since she came into my keeping has Inkosikaas (i.e. ‘Chieftainess,’ for so was this famous weapon named) sunk so low as to drink the blood of beasts. Still, the stroke was a good one so she need not be ashamed. But, Yellow Man, how comes it that you who, I have been told, are cunning, watch your master so ill?”
“I was asleep,” stuttered Hans indignantly.
“Those who serve should never sleep,” replied Umslopogaas sternly. Then he turned and whistled, and behold! out of the long grass that grew at a little distance, emerged twelve great men, all of them bearing axes and wearing cloaks of hyena skins, who saluted me by raising their axes.
“Set a watch and skin me this beast by dawn. It will make us a mat,” said Umslopogaas, whereon again they saluted silently and melted away.
“Who are these?” I asked.
“A few picked warriors whom I brought with me, Macumazahn. There were one or two more, but they got lost on the way.”
Then we went to the waggon and spoke no more that night.
Next morning I told Umslopogaas of the visit I had received from the Induna of the King who wished me to come to the royal kraal. He nodded and said,
“As it chances certain thieves attacked me on my journey, which is why one or two of my people remain behind who will never travel again. We made good play with those thieves; not one of them escaped,” he added grimly, “and their bodies we threw into a river where are many crocodiles. But their spears I brought away and I think that they are such as the King’s guard use. If so, his search for them will be long, since the fight took place where no man lives and we burned the shields and trappings. Oho! he will think that the ghosts have taken them.”
That morning we trekked on fast, fearing lest a regiment searching for these “thieves” should
