Adventure stories; Africa -- Fiction; Hunting guides -- Fiction; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
On we went through kloof after kloof. Indaba-zimbi, who led us, was
never at a loss, he turned up gulleys and struck across necks of hills
with the certainty of a hound on a hot scent. At length, after about
three hours’ march, we came to a big silent valley on the northern
slope of the great peak. On one side of this valley was a series of
stony koppies, on the other rose a sheer wall of rock. We marched along
the wall for a distance of some two miles. Then suddenly Indaba-zimbi
halted.
“There is the place,” he said, pointing to an opening in the cliff.
This opening was about forty feet from the ground, and ellipse-shaped.
It cannot have been more than twenty feet high by ten wide, and was
partially hidden by ferns and bushes that grew about it in the surface
of the cliff. Keen as my eyes were, I doubt if I should ever have
noticed it, for there were many such cracks and crannies in the rocky
face of the great mountain.
We drew near and looked carefully at the place. The first thing I
noticed was that the rock, which was not quite perpendicular, had been
worn by the continual passage of baboons; the second, that something
white was hanging on a bush near the top of the ascent.
It was a pocket-handkerchief.
Now there was no more doubt about the matter. With a beating heart I
began the ascent. For the first twenty feet it was comparatively easy,
for the rock shelved; the next ten feet was very difficult, but still
possible to an active man, and I achieved it, followed by Indaba-zimbi.
But the last twelve or fifteen feet could only be scaled by throwing a
rope over the trunk of a stunted tree, which grew at the bottom of the
opening. This we accomplished with some trouble, and the rest was easy.
A foot or two above my head the handkerchief fluttered in the wind.
Hanging to the rope, I grasped it. It was my wife’s. As I did so I
noticed the face of a baboon peering at me over the edge of the cleft,
the first baboon we had seen that morning. The brute gave a bark and
vanished. Thrusting the handkerchief into my breast, I set my feet
against the cliff and scrambled up as hard as I could go. I knew that
we had no time to lose, for the baboon would quickly alarm the others.
I gained the cleft. It was a mere arched passage cut by water, ending
in a gulley, which led to a wide open space of some sort. I looked
through the passage and saw that the gulley was black with baboons. On
they came by the hundred. I unslung my elephant gun from my shoulders
and waited, calling to the men below to come up with all possible
speed. The brutes streamed on down the gloomy gulf towards me, barking,
grunting, and showing their huge teeth. I waited till they were within
fifteen yards. Then I fired the elephant gun, which was loaded with
slugs, right into the thick of them. In that narrow place the report
echoed like a cannon shot, but its sound was quickly swallowed in the
volley of piercing human-sounding groans and screams that followed. The
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account