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
“‘Oh, God bless you?’ he moaned, ‘God bless you! If only you knew what
I have gone through; and to think that you should have come to help me,
and at the risk of your own life! Well, you were always a true
friend—yes, yes, a true friend.’
“‘Bosh,’ I answered testily; ‘I’m a trader, and I came after that
ivory,’ and I pointed to the stockade of tusks. ‘Did you ever hear of
an elephant-hunter who would not have risked his immortal soul for
them, and much more his carcase?’
“But he took no notice of my explanations, and went on God blessing me
as hard as ever, till at last I bethought me that a nip of brandy, of
which I had a flask full, might steady his nerves a bit. I gave it him,
and was not disappointed in the result, for he brisked up wonderfully.
Then I hunted about in Wambe’s hut, and found a kaross to put over his
poor bruised shoulders, and he was quite a man again.
“‘Now,’ I said, ‘why did the late lamented Wambe want to put you in
that trap?’
“‘Because as soon as they heard that the fight was going against them,
and that Maiwa was charging at the head of Nala’s impi, one of the
women told Wambe that she had seen me write something on some leaves
and give them to Maiwa before she went away to purify herself. Then of
course he guessed that I had to do with your seizing the koppie and
holding it while the impi rushed the place from the mountain, so he
determined to torture me to death before help could come. Oh, heavens!
what a mercy it is to hear English again.’
“‘How long have you been a prisoner here, Every?’ I asked.
“‘Six years and a bit, Quatermain; I have lost count of the odd months
lately. I came up here with Major Aldey and three other gentlemen and
forty bearers. That devil Wambe ambushed us, and murdered the lot to
get their guns. They weren’t much use to him when he got them, being
breech-loaders, for the fools fired away all the ammunition in a month
or two. However, they are all in good order, and hanging up in the hut
there. They didn’t kill me because one of them saw me mending a gun
just before they attacked us, so they kept me as a kind of armourer.
Twice I tried to make a bolt of it, but was caught each time. Last time
Wambe had me flogged very nearly to death—you can see the scars upon my
back. Indeed I should have died if it hadn’t been for the girl Maiwa,
who nursed me by stealth. He got that accursed lion trap among our
things also, and I suppose he has tortured between one and two hundred
people to death in it. It was his favourite amusement, and he would go
every day and sit and watch his victim till he died. Sometimes he would
give him food and water to keep him alive longer, telling him or her
that he would let him go if he lived till a certain day. But he never
did let them go. They all died there, and I could show you their bones
behind that rock.’
“‘The devil!’ I said, grinding my teeth. ‘I wish I hadn’t interfered; I
wish I had left him to the same fate.’
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