Heu-Heu, or The monsterHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Science
Heu-Heu, or The monster
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure stories; Monsters -- Fiction; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; South Africa -- Fiction
Then he advanced all kinds of objections, and even brought out the
Walloo and his grey-heads to reinforce his arguments. Hans and Sabeela
also joined the party; the latter, I noted, looking even more beautiful
by day than she did in the lamplight. Sabeela, indeed, proved my only
ally, for presently, when the others had talked themselves hoarse, she
said,
“The White Lord has been brought hither that we, who are bewildered and
foolish, may drink of the cup of his wisdom. If his wisdom bids him
visit the Holy Isle, let him do so, my father.”
As no one seemed to be convinced, I stood silent, not knowing what more
to say. Then Hans took up his parable, speaking in his bad
coast-Arabic:
“Baas, Issicore, although he is so big and strong, and all these others
are afraid of Heu-Heu and his priests. But we, who are good Christians,
are not afraid of any devils because we know how to deal with them.
Also we can paddle, therefore let the Chief give us quite a small canoe
and show us which way to row, and we will go to the island by
ourselves.”
In sporting parlance, this shot hit the bull in the eye, and Issicore,
who, as I have said, was a brave man at bottom, fired up and answered,
“Am I a coward that I should listen to such words from your servant,
Lord Macumazahn? I and some others whom I can find will row you to the
island, though on it we will not set our foot because it is not lawful
for us to do so. Only, Lord, if you come back no more, blame me not.”
“Then that is settled,” I replied quietly, “and now, if we
may, let us eat, for I am hungry.”
About two hours later we started from the quay, taking with us all our
small possessions, down to some spare powder in flasks which we had
brought to reload fired cartridge cases, for Hans refused to leave
anything behind with no one to watch it. The canoe which was given to
us was much smaller than that in which we had come up the river,
though, like it, hollowed from a single log; and its crew consisted of
Issicore, who steered, and four other Walloos, who paddled, stout and
determined-looking fellows, all of them. The island was about five
miles away, but we made a wide circuit to the south, I suppose in the
hope of avoiding observation, and therefore it took us the best part of
two hours to reach its southern shore.
As we approached I examined the place carefully through my glasses, and
observed that it was much larger than I had thought—several miles in
circumference, indeed, for in addition to the central volcanic cone
there was a great stretch of low-lying land all round its base, which
land seemed not to rise more than a foot or two above the level of the
lake. In character, except on these flats by the lake, it was stony and
barren, being, in fact, strewn with lumps of lava ejected from the
volcano during the last eruption.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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