Adventure stories; Africa -- Fiction; Hunting guides -- Fiction; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Then the real battle began. It is difficult to say who fought the most
fiercely, the natives or the baboons. The Kaffirs charged along the
slopes, and as they came, encouraged by the screams of Hendrika, who
rushed to and fro holding the wretched Tota before her as a shield, the
apes bounded at them in fury. Scores were killed by the assegais, and
many more fell beneath our gun-shots; but still they came on. Nor did
we go scathless. Occasionally a man would slip, or be pulled over in
the grip of a baboon. Then the others would fling themselves upon him
like dogs on a rat, and worry him to death. We lost five men in this
way, and I myself received a bite through the fleshy part of the left
arm, but fortunately a native near me assegaied the animal before I was
pulled down.
At length, and all of a sudden, the baboons gave up. A panic seemed to
seize them. Notwithstanding the cries of Hendrika they thought no more
of fight, but only of escape; some even did not attempt to get away
from the assegais of the Kaffirs, they simply hid their horrible faces
in their paws, and, moaning piteously, waited to be slain.
Hendrika saw that the battle was lost. Dropping the child from her
arms, she rushed straight at us, a very picture of horrible insanity. I
lifted my gun, but could not bear to shoot. After all she was but a mad
thing, half ape, half woman. So I sprang to one side, and she landed
full on Indaba-zimbi, knocking him down. But she did not stay to do any
more. Wailing terribly, she rushed down the gulley and through the
arch, followed by a few of the surviving baboons, and vanished from our
sight.
CHAPTER XIII.
WHAT HAPPENED TO STELLA
The fight was over. In all we had lost seven men killed, and several
more severely bitten, while but few had escaped without some tokens
whereby he might remember what a baboon’s teeth and claws are like. How
many of the brutes we killed I never knew, because we did not count,
but it was a vast number. I should think that the stock must have been
low about Babyan’s Peak for many years afterwards. From that day to
this, however, I have always avoided baboons, feeling more afraid of
them than any beast that lives.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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