Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little HandHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
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Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little Hand
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Africa -- Fiction; Hunting guides -- Fiction; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction
“At length the night wore away, and with the first tinge of light I
began to go my rounds, and stumbling along the stony paths, to make
things as ready as I could for the attack, which I felt sure would be
delivered before we were two hours older. The men were cramped and
cold, and consequently low-spirited, but I exhorted them to the best of
my ability, bidding them remember the race from which they sprang, and
not to show the white feather before a crowd of Matuku dogs. At length
it began to grow light, and presently I saw long columns of men
advancing towards the koppie. They halted under cover at a distance of
about a hundred and fifty yards, and just as the dawn broke a herald
came forward and called to us. Our captain stood up upon a rock and
answered him.
“‘These are the words of Wambe,’ the herald said. ‘Come forth from the
koppie, and give over the evil-doers, and go in peace, or stay in the
koppie and be slain.’
“‘It is too early to come out as yet,’ answered our man in fine
diplomatic style. ‘When the sun sucks up the mist then we will come
out. Our limbs are stiff with cold.’
“‘Come forth even now,’ said the herald.
“‘Not if I know it, my boy,’ said I to myself; but the captain replied
that he would come out when he thought proper, and not before.
“‘Then make ready to die,’ said the herald, for all the world like the
villain of a transpontine piece, and majestically stalked back to the
soldiers.
“I made my final arrangements, and looked anxiously at the mountain
crest a couple of miles or so away, from which the mist was now
beginning to lift, but no column of smoke could I see. I whistled, for
if the attacking force had been delayed or made any mistake, our
position was likely to grow rather warm. We had barely enough water to
wet the mouths of the men, and when once it was finished we could not
hold the place for long in that burning heat.
“At length, just as the sun rose in glory over the heights behind us,
the Matuku soldiers, of whom about fifteen hundred were now assembled,
set up a queer whistling noise, which ended in a chant. Then some shots
were fired, for the Matuku had a few guns, but without effect, though
one bullet passed just by a man’s head.
“‘Now they are going to begin,’ I thought to myself, and I was not far
wrong, for in another minute the body of men divided into three
companies, each about five hundred strong, and, heralded by a running
fire, charged at us on three sides. Our men were now all well under
cover, and the fire did us no harm. I mounted on a rock so as to
command a view of as much of the koppie and plain as possible, and
yelled to our men to reserve their fire till I gave the word, and then
to shoot low and load as quickly as possible. I knew that, like all
natives, they were sure to be execrable shots, and that they were armed
with weapons made out of old gas-pipes, so the only chance of doing
execution was to let the enemy get right on to us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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