CHAPTER XXII
THE MADNESS OF NOMBE
The dog reached Nombe first and began to lick her face, its
tongue removing patches of the white which had not had time to
dry. She was lying, her back supported by one of the boulders.
With her left hand she patted the dog's head feebly and with her
right drew out the assegai from her body, letting it fall upon
the ground. Recognizing me she smiled in her usual mysterious
fashion and said--
"All is well, Macumazahn, all is very well. I have deserved to
die and I do not die in vain."
"Don't talk, let me see your wound," I exclaimed.
She opened her robe and pointed; it was quite a small gash
beneath the breast from which blood ebbed slowly.
"Let it be, Macumazahn," she said. "I am bleeding inside and it
is mortal. But I shall not die yet. Listen to me while I have
my mind. Yesterday when Mauriti and Heddana went up to the plain
I wished to go with them because I had news that Zulus were
wandering everywhere and thought that I might be able to protect
my mistress from danger. Mauriti spoke to me roughly, telling me
that I was not wanted. Of that I thought little, for to such
words I am accustomed from him; moreover, they are to be forgiven
to a man in love. But it did not end there, for my lady Heddana
also pierced me with her tongue, which hurt more than this spear
thrust does, Macumazahn, for I could see that her speech had been
prepared and that she took this chance to throw it at me. She
said that I did not know where I should sit; that I was a thorn
beneath her nail, and that whenever she wished to talk with
Mauriti, or with you, Macumazahn, I was ever there with my ear
open like the mouth of a gourd. She commanded me in future to
come only when I was called; all of which things I am sure
Mauriti had taught her, who in herself is too gentle even to
think them--unless you taught her, Macumazahn."
I shook my head and she went on--
"No, it was not you who also are too gentle, and having suffered
yourself, can feel for those who suffer, which Mauriti who has
never suffered cannot do. Still, you too thought me a trouble,
one that sticks in the flesh like a hooked thorn, or a tick from
the grass, and cannot be unfastened. You spoke to the Master
about it and he spoke to me."
This time I nodded in assent.
"I do not blame you, Macumazahn; indeed now I see that you were
wise, for what right has a poor black doctoress to seek the love,
or even to look upon the face of the great white lady whom for a
little while Fate has caused to walk upon the same path with her?
But yesterday I forgot that, Macumazahn, for you see we are all
of us, not one self, but many selves, and each self has its times
of rule. Nombe alive and well was one woman, Nombe dying is
another, and doubtless Nombe dead will be a third, unless, as she
prays, she should sleep for ever.
"Macumazahn, those words of Heddana's were to me what gall is to
sweet milk. My blood clotted and my heart turned sour. It was
not against her that I was angry, because that can never happen,
but against Mauriti and against you. My Spirit whispered in my
ear. It said, 'If Mauriti and Macumazahn were dead the lady
Heddana would be left alone in a strange land. Then she would
learn to rest upon you as upon a stick, and learn to love the
stick on which she rested, though it be so rough and homely.'
But how can I kill them, I asked of my Spirit, and myself escape
death?
"'Poison is forbidden to you by the pact between us,' answered my
Spirit, 'yet I will show you a way, who am bound to serve you in
all things good or ill.'
"Then we nodded to each other in my breast, Macumazahn, and I
waited for what should happen who knew that my Spirit would not
lie. Yes, I waited for a chance to kill you both, forgetting, as
the wicked forget in their madness, that even if I were not found
out, soon or late Heddana would guess the truth and then, even if
she had learned to love me a thousand times more than she ever
could, would come to hate me as a mother hates a snake that has
slain her child. Or even if she never learned or guessed in
life, after death she would learn and hunt me and spit on me from
world to world as a traitoress and a murderer, one who has sinned
past pardon."
Here she seemed to grow faint and I turned to seek for help. But
she caught hold of my coat and said--
"Hear me out, Macumazahn, or I will run after you till I fall and
die."
So thinking it best, I stayed and she went on--
"My Spirit, which must be an evil one since Zikali gave it me
when I was made a doctoress, dealt truly with me, for presently
the king and his people came. Moreover, my Spirit brought it
about that the king would have no other guide but me to lead him
to the kraal where he slept last night, and I went as though
unwillingly. At the kraal the king sent for me and questioned me
in a dark hut, pretending to be alone, but I who am a doctoress
knew that two other men were in that hut, taking note of all my
words. He asked me of the Inkosazana-y-Zulu who appeared in the
Vale of Bones and of the little assegai she held in her hand, and
of the magic of the Opener of Roads, and many other things. I
said that I knew nothing of the Inkosazana, but that without
doubt my Master was a great magician. He did not believe me. He
threatened that I should be tortured very horribly and was about
to call his servants to torment me till I told the truth. Then
my Spirit spoke in my heart saying, 'Now the door is open to you,
as, I promised. Tell the king of the two white men whom the
Master hides, and he will send to kill them, leaving the lady
Heddana and you alone together.' So I pretended to be afraid and
told him, whereon he laughed and answered--
"'For your sake I am glad, girl, that you have spoken the truth;
besides it is useless to torture a witch, since then the spirit
in her only vomits lies.'
"Next he called aloud and a man came, who it was I could not see
in the dark. The king commanded him to take me to one of the
other huts and tie me up there to the roof-pole. The man obeyed,
but he did not tie me up; he only blocked the hut with the
door-board, and sat with me there in the dark alone.
"Now I grew cunning and began to talk with him, spreading a net
of sweet words, as the fowler spreads a net for cranes from which
he would tear the crests. Soon by his talk I found out that the
king and his people knew more than I guessed. Macumazahn, they
had seen the cart which still stands under the overhanging rock
by the mouth of the cave. I asked him if that were all,
pretending that the cart belonged to my Master, to whom it had
been brought from the field of Isandhlwana, that he might be
drawn about in it, who was too weak to walk.
"The man said that if I would kiss him he would tell me
everything. I bade him tell me first, swearing that then I would
kiss him. Yes, Macumazahn, I, whom no man's lips have ever
touched, fell as low as this. So he grew foolish and told me.
He told me that they had also seen a kappje such as white women
wear, hanging on the hut fence, and I remembered that after
washing the headdress of my mistress I had set it there to dry in
the sun. He told me also that the King suspected that she who
wore that kappje was she who had played the part of the
Inkosazana in the Vale of Bones. I asked him what the king would
do about the matter, at the same time denying that there was any
white woman in the Black Kloof. He said that at dawn the king
would send and kill these foreign rats, whom the Opener of Roads
kept in the thatch of his hut. Now he drew near and asked his
pay. I gave it to him--with a knife-point, Macumazahn. Oh! that
was a good thrust. He never spoke again. Then I slipped away,
for all the others were asleep, and was here a little after
midnight."
"I thought I saw you, Nombe," I said, "but was not sure, so I did
nothing."
She smiled and answered--
"Ah! I was afraid that the Watcher-by-Night would be watching by
night; also the dog ran up to me, but he knew me and I sent him
back again. Now while I was coming home, thoughts entered my
heart. I saw, as one sees by a lightning flash, all that I had
done. The king and his people were not sure that the Master was
hiding white folk here and would never have sent back to kill
them on the chance. I had made them sure, as indeed, being mad,
I meant to do. Moreover, in throwing spears at the kites I had
killed my own dove, since it was on the false Inkosazana who had
caused them to declare war and brought the land to ruin, that
they wished to be avenged, and perchance on him who taught her
her part, not on one or two wandering white men. I saw that when
Cetewayo's people came, and there were many more of them outside,
several hundreds I think, they would shave the whole head and
burn the whole tree. Every one in the kloof would be killed.
"How could I undo the knot that I had tied and stamp out the fire
that I had lit? That was the question. I bethought me of coming
to you, but without arms how could you help? I bethought me of
going to the Master, but I was ashamed. Also, what could he do
with but a few servants, for the most of his people are away with
the cattle? He is too weak to climb the steep path to the plain
above, nor was there time to gather folk to carry him. Lastly,
even if there were time which there was not, and we went thither
they would track us out and kill us. For the rest I did not
care, nor for myself, but that the lady Heddana should be
butchered who was more to me than a hundred lives, and through my
treachery--ah! for that I cared.
I called on my Spirit to help me, but it would not come. My
Spirit was dead in me because now I would do good and not ill.
Yet another Spirit came, that of one Mameena whom once you knew.
She came angrily, like a storm, and I shrank before her. She
said, 'Vile witch, you have plotted to murder Macumazahn, and for
that you shall answer to me before another sun has set over this
earth of yours. Now you seek a way of escape from your own
wickedness. Well, it can be had, but at a price.'
"'What price, O Lady of Death?' I asked.
"'The price of your own life, Witch.'
"I laughed into that ghost face of hers and said--
"'Is this all? Be swift and show me the way, O Lady of Death,
and afterwards we will balance our account.'
"Then she whispered into the ear of my heart and was gone. I ran
on, for the dawn was near. I whitened myself with lime, I put on
the glittering cloak and powdered my hair with the sparkling
earth. I took a little stick in my hand since I could find no
spear and had no time to search, and just as day began to break,
I crept out and stood in the bend of the path. The slayers came,
twelve or so of them, but behind were many more. They saw the
Inkosazana-y-Zulu barring their way and were much afraid. They
fled, but out of his fright one of them threw a spear which went
home, as I knew it would. He watched to see if I should fall,
but I would not fall. Then he fled faster than the rest, knowing
himself accursed who had lifted steel against the Queen of
Heaven, and oh! I am glad, I am glad!"
She ceased, exhausted, yet with a great exultation in her
beautiful eyes; indeed at that moment she looked a most
triumphant creature. I stared at her, thrilled through and
through. She had been wicked, no doubt, but how splendid was her
end; and, thank Heaven! she was troubled with no thought of what
might befall her after that end, although I was sure she believed
that she would live again to face Mameena.
I knew not what to do. I did not like to leave her, especially
as no earthly power could help her case, since slowly but quite
surely she was bleeding to death from an internal wound. By now
the sun was up and Zikali's people were about. One of them
appeared suddenly and saw, then with a howl of terror turned to
fly away.
"Fool! Fool!" I cried, "go summon the lady Heddana and the
Inkosi Mauriti. Bid them come swiftly if they would see the
doctoress Nombe before she dies."
The man leapt off like a buck, and within a few minutes I saw
Heda and Anscombe running towards us, half dressed, and went to
meet them.
"What is it?" she gasped.
"I have only time to tell you this," I answered. "Nombe is
dying. She gave her life to save you, how I will explain
afterwards. The assegai that pierced her was meant for your
heart. Go, thank her, and bid her farewell. Anscombe, stop back
with me."
We stood still and watched from a little distance. Heda knelt
down and put her arms about Nombe. They whispered together into
each other's ears. Then they kissed.
It was at this moment that Zikali appeared, leaning on two of his
servants. By some occult art or instinct he seemed to know all
that had happened, and oh! he looked terrible. He crouched down
in front of the dying woman and, toadlike, spat his venom at her.
"You lost your Spirit, did you?" he said. "Well, it came back to
me laden with the black honey of your treachery, to me, its home,
as a bee comes to its hive. It has told me everything, and well
for you, Witch, it is that you are dying. But think not that you
shall escape me there in the world below, for thither I will
follow you. Curses on you, traitress, who would have betrayed me
and brought all my plans to naught. Ow! in a day to come I will
pay you back a full harvest for this seed of shame that you have
sown."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, then answered quite
softly--
"I think your chain is broken, O Zikali, no more, my master. I
think that love has cut your chain in two and I fear you never
more. Keep the spirit you lent to me; it is yours, but the rest
of me is my own, and in the house of my heart another comes to
dwell."
Then once more she stretched out her arms towards Heda and
murmuring, "Sister, forget me not, Sister, who will await you for
a thousand years," she passed away.
It was a good ending to a bad business, and I confess I felt glad
when it was finished. Only afterwards I regretted very much that
I had not found an opportunity to ask her whether or no she had
masqueraded as Mameena in the Valley of Bones. Now it is too
late.
We buried poor Nombe decently in her own little hut where she
used to practise her incantations. Zikali and his people wished
apparently to throw her to the vultures for some secret reason
that had to do with their superstitions. But Heda, who, now that
Nombe was dead, developed a great affection for her not unmixed
with a certain amount of compunction for which really she had no
cause, withstood him to his face and insisted upon a decent
interment. So she was laid to earth still plastered with the
white pigment and wrapped in the bloodstained feather robe. I
may add that on the following morning one of Zikali's servants
informed me solemnly that because of this she had been seen
during the night riding up and down the rocks on a baboon as Zulu
umtagati are supposed to do. I have small doubt that as soon as
we were gone they dug her up again and threw her to the vultures
and the jackals according to their first intention.
On this day we at length escaped from the Black Kloof, and in our
own cart, for during the night our horses arrived mysteriously
from somewhere, in good condition though rather wild. I went to
say good-bye to Zikali, who said little, except that we should
meet once more after many moons. Anscombe and Heda he would not
see at all, but only sent them a message, to the effect that he
hoped they would think kindly of him through the long years to
come, since he had kept his promise and preserved them safe
through many dangers. I might have answered that he had first of
all put them into the dangers, but considered it wise to hold my
tongue. I think, however, that he guessed my thought, if one can
talk of guessing in connection with Zikali, for he said that they
had no reason to thank him, since if he had served their turn
they had served his, adding--
"It will be strange in the times to be for the lady Heddana to
remember that it was she and no other who crumpled up the Zulus
like a frostbitten winter reed, since had she not appeared upon
the rock in the Valley of Bones, there would have been no war."
"She did not do this, you did it, Zikali," I said, "making her
your tool through love and fear."
"Nay, Macumazahn, I did not do it; it was done by what you call
God and I call Fate in whose hand I am the tool. Well, say to
the lady Heddana that in payment I will hold back the ghost of
Nombe from haunting her, if I can. Say also that if I had not
brought her and her lover to Zululand they would have been
killed."
So we went from that hateful kloof which I have never seen since
and hope I shall never see again, two of Zikali's men escorting
us until we got into touch with white people. To these we said
as little as possible. I think they believed that we were only
premature tourists who had made a dash into Zululand to visit
some of the battlefields. Indeed none of us ever reported our
strange adventures, and after my experience with Kaatje we were
particularly careful to say nothing in the hearing of any
gentleman connected with the Press. But as a matter of fact
there were so many people moving about and such a continual
coming and going of soldiers and their belongings, that after we
had managed to buy some decent clothes, which we did at the
little town of Newcastle, nobody paid any attention to us.
On our way to Maritzburg one amusing thing did happen. We met
Kaatje! It was about sunset that we were driving up a steep hill
not far from Howick. At least I was driving, but Anscombe and
Heda were walking about a hundred yards ahead of the cart, when
suddenly Kaatje appeared over a rise and came face to face with
them while taking an evening stroll, or as I concluded
afterwards, making some journey. She saw, she stared, she
uttered one wild yell, and suddenly bundled over the edge of the
road. Never would I have believed that such a fat woman could
have run so fast. In a minute she was down the slope and had
vanished into a dense kloof where, as night was closing in and we
were very tired, it was impossible for us to follow her. Nor did
subsequent inquiry in Howick tell us where she was living or
whence she came, for some months before she had left the place
she had taken there as a cook.
Such was the end of Kaatje so far as we were concerned.
Doubtless to her dying day she remained, or will remain, a firm
believer in ghosts.
Anscombe and Heda were married at Maritzburg as soon as the
necessary formalities had been completed. I could not attend the
ceremony, which was a disappointment to me and I hope to them,
but unfortunately I had a return of my illness and was laid up
for a week. Perhaps this was owing to the hot sun that struck me
on the neck one afternoon coming down the Town Hill where I was
obliged to hang on to the rear of the cart because the brakes had
given out. However I was able to send Heda a wedding gift in the
shape of her jewels and money that I recovered from the bank,
which she had never expected to see again; also to arrange
everything about her property.
They went down to Durban for their honeymoon and, some convenient
opportunity arising, sailed thence for England. I received an
affectionate letter from them both, which I still treasure,
thanking me very much for all I had done for them, that after all
was little enough. Also Anscombe enclosed a blank cheque,
begging me to fill it in for whatever sum I considered he was
indebted to me on the balance of account. I thought this very
kind of him and a great mark of confidence, but the cheque
remained blank.
I never saw either of them again, and though I believe that they
are both living, for the most part abroad--in Hungary I think--I
do not suppose that I ever shall. When I came to England some
years later after King Solomon's mines had made me rich, I wrote
Anscombe a letter. He never answered it, which hurt me at the
time. Afterwards I remembered that in their fine position it was
very natural that they should not wish to renew acquaintance with
an individual who had so intimate a knowledge of certain
incidents that they probably regarded as hateful, such as the
deaths of Marnham and Dr. Rodd, and all the surrounding
circumstances. If so, I daresay that they were wise, but of
course it may have been only carelessness. it is so easy for
busy and fashionable folk not to answer a rather troublesome
letter, or to forget to put that answer in the post. Or, indeed,
the letter may never have reached them--such things often go
astray, especially when people live abroad. At any rate, perhaps
through my own fault, we have drifted apart. I daresay they
believe that I am dead, or not to be found somewhere in Africa.
However, I always think of them with affection, for Anscombe was
one of the best travelling companions I ever had, and his wife a
most charming girl, and wonder whether Zikali's prophecy about
their children will come true. Good luck go with them!
As it chances, since then I passed the place where the Temple
stood, though at a little distance. I had the curiosity,
however, at some inconvenience, to ride round and examine the
spot. I suppose that Heda had sold the property, for a back-veld
Boer, who was absent at the time, had turned what used to be
Rodd's hospital into his house. Close by, grim and gaunt, stood
the burnt-out marble walls of the Temple. The verandah was still
roofed over, and standing on the spot whence I had shot the
pistol out of Rodd's hand, I was filled with many memories.
I could trace the whole plan of the building and visited that
part of it which had been Marnham's room. The iron safe that
stood in the corner had been taken away, but the legs of the
bedstead remained. Also not far from it, over grown with running
plants, was a little heap which I took to be the ashes of his
desk, for bits of burnt wood protruded. I grubbed among them
with my foot and riding crop and presently came across the
remains of a charred human skull. Then I departed in a hurry.
My way took me through the Yellow-wood grove, past the horns of
the blue wildebeeste which still lay there, past that mud-hole
also into which Rodd had fallen dead. Here, however, I made no
more search, who had seen enough of bones. To this day I do not
know whether he still lies beneath the slimy ooze, or was removed
and buried.
Also I saw the site of our wagon camp where the Basutos attacked
us. But I will have done with these reminiscences which induce
melancholy, though really there is no reason why they should.
Tout lasse, tout casse, tout passe--everything wears out,
everything crumbles, everything vanishes--in the words of the
French proverb that my friend Sir Henry Curtis is so fond of
quoting, that at last I wrote it down in my pocket-book, only to
remember afterwards that when I was a boy I had heard it from the
lips of an old scamp of a Frenchman, of the name of Leblanc, who
once gave me and another lessons in the Gallic tongue. But of
him I have already written in _Marie,_ which is the first chapter
in the Book of the fall of the Zulus. That headed _Child of
Storm_ is the second. These pages form the third and last.
Ah! indeed, tout lasse, tout casse, tout passe!
