Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little HandHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
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
“The impi formed up; alas, an hour before it had been stronger by a
third than it was now. Then Nala detached two hundred men to collect
and attend to the injured, and at my suggestion issued a stringent
order that none of the enemy’s wounded, and above all no women or
children, were to be killed, as is the savage custom among African
natives. On the contrary, they were to be allowed to send word to their
women that they might come in to nurse them and fear nothing, for Nala
made war upon Wambe the tyrant, and not on the Matuku tribe.
“Then we started with some four hundred men for the chief’s kraal. Very
soon we were there. It was, as I have said, placed against the mountain
side, but within the fortified lines, and did not at all cover more
than an acre and a half of ground. Outside was a tiny reed fence,
within which, neatly arranged in a semi-circular line, stood the huts
of the chief’s principal wives. Maiwa of course knew every inch of the
kraal, for she had lived in it, and led us straight to the entrance. We
peeped through the gateway—not a soul was to be seen. There were the
huts and there was the clear open space floored with a concrete of
lime, on which the sun beat fiercely, but nobody could we see or hear.
“‘The jackal has gone to earth,’ said Maiwa; ‘he will be in the cave
behind his hut,’ and she pointed with her spear towards another small
and semi-circular enclosure, over which a large hut was visible, that
had the cliff itself for a background. I stared at this fence; by
George! it was true, it was entirely made of tusks of ivory planted in
the ground with their points bending outwards. The smallest ones,
though none were small, were placed nearest to the cliff on either
side, but they gradually increased in size till they culminated in two
enormous tusks, which, set up so that their points met, something in
the shape of an inverted V, formed the gateway to the hut. I was
dumbfoundered with delight; and indeed, where is the elephant-hunter
who would not be, if he suddenly saw five or six hundred picked tusks
set up in a row, and only waiting for him to take them away? Of course
the stuff was what is known as ‘black’ ivory; that is, the exterior of
the tusks had become black from years or perhaps centuries of exposure
to wind and weather, but I was certain that it would be none the worse
for that. Forgetting the danger of the deed, in my excitement I
actually ran right across the open space, and drawing my knife
scratched vigorously at one of the great tusks to see how deep the
damage might be. As I thought, it was nothing; there beneath the black
covering gleamed the pure white ivory. I could have capered for joy,
for I fear that I am very mercenary at heart, when suddenly I heard the
faint echo of a cry for assistance. ‘Help!’ screamed a voice in the
Sisutu dialect from somewhere behind the hut; ‘help! they are murdering
me.’
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