Allan Quatermain
CHAPTER VI
THE NIGHT WEARS ON
As may be imagined, at the very first sign of a Masai
the entire population of the Mission Station had sought refuge inside the
stout stone wall, and were now to be seen -- men, women, and countless
children -- huddled up together in little groups, and all talking at once
in awed tones of the awfulness of Masai manners and customs, and of the
fate that they had to expect if those bloodthirsty savages succeeded in
getting over the stone wall.
Immediately after we had settled upon the outline of our
plan of action as suggested by Umslopogaas, Mr Mackenzie sent for four
sharp boys of from twelve to fifteen years of age, and despatched them to
various points where they could keep an outlook upon the Masai camp, with
others to report from time to time what was going on. Other lads and even
women were stationed at intervals along the wall in order to guard against
the possibility of surprise.
After this the twenty men who formed his whole available
fighting force were summoned by our host into the square formed by the
house, and there, standing by the bole of the great conifer, he earnestly
addressed them and our four Askari. Indeed, it formed a very impressive
scene -- one not likely to be forgotten by anybody who witnessed it.
Immediately by the tree stood the angular form of Mr Mackenzie, one arm
outstretched as he talked, and the other resting against the giant bole,
his hat off, and his plain but kindly face clearly betraying the anguish of
his mind. Next to him was his poor wife, who, seated on a chair, had her
face hidden in her hand. On the other side of her was Alphonse, looking
exceedingly uncomfortable, and behind him stood the three of us, with
Umslopogaas' grim and towering form in the background, resting, as usual,
on his axe. In front stood and squatted the group of armed men -- some
with rifles in their hands, and others with spears and shields -- following
with eager attention every word that fell from the speaker's lips. The
white light of the moon peering in beneath the lofty boughs threw a strange
wild glamour over the scene, whilst the melancholy soughing of the night
wind passing through the millions of pine needles overhead added a sadness
of its own to what was already a sufficiently tragic occasion.
'Men,' said Mr Mackenzie, after he had put all the
circumstances of the case fully and clearly before them, and explained to
them the proposed plan of our forlorn hope -- 'men, for years I have been a
good friend to you, protecting you, teaching you, guarding you and yours
from harm, and ye have prospered with me. Ye have seen my child -- the
Water-lily, as ye call her -- grow year by year, from tenderest infancy to
tender childhood, and from childhood on towards maidenhood. She has been
your children's playmate, she has helped to tend you when sick, and ye have
loved her.'
'We have,' said a deep voice, 'and we will die to save
her.'
'I thank you from my heart -- I thank you. Sure am I
that now, in this hour of darkest trouble; now that her young life is like
to be cut off by cruel and savage men -- who of a truth "know not what they
do" -- ye will strive your best to save her, and to save me and her mother
from broken hearts. Think, too, of your own wives and children. If she
dies, her death will be followed by an attack upon us here, and at the
best, even if we hold our own, your houses and gardens will be destroyed,
and your goods and cattle swept away. I am, as ye well know, a man of
peace. Never in all these years have I lifted my hand to shed man's blood;
but now I say strike, strike, in the name of God, Who bade us protect our
lives and homes. Swear to me,' he went on with added fervour -- 'swear to
me that whilst a man of you remains alive ye will strive your uttermost
with me and with these brave white men to save the child from a bloody and
cruel death.'
'Say no more, my father,' said the same deep voice, that
belonged to a stalwart elder of the Mission; 'we swear it. May we and ours
die the death of dogs, and our bones be thrown to the jackals and the
kites, if we break the oath! It is a fearful thing to do, my father, so
few to strike at so many, yet will we do it or die in the doing. We
swear!'
'Ay, thus say we all,' chimed in the others.
'Thus say we all,' said I.
'It is well,' went on Mr Mackenzie. 'Ye are true men
and not broken reeds to lean on. And now, friends -- white and black
together -- let us kneel and offer up our humble supplication to the Throne
of Power, praying that He in the hollow of Whose hand lie all our lives,
Who giveth life and giveth death, may be pleased to make strong our arms
that we may prevail in what awaits us at the morning's light.'
And he knelt down, an example that we all followed
except Umslopogaas, who still stood in the background, grimly leaning on
Inkosi-kaas. The fierce old Zulu had no gods and worshipped nought, unless
it were his battleaxe.
'Oh God of gods!' began the clergyman, his deep voice,
tremulous with emotion, echoing up in the silence even to the leafy roof;
'Protector of the oppressed, Refuge of those in danger, Guardian of the
helpless, hear Thou our prayer! Almighty Father, to Thee we come in
supplication. Hear Thou our prayer! Behold, one child hast Thou given us
-- an innocent child, nurtured in Thy knowledge -- and now she lies beneath
the shadow of the sword, in danger of a fearful death at the hands of
savage men. Be with her now, oh God, and comfort her! Save her, oh
Heavenly Father! Oh God of battle, Who teacheth our hands to war and our
fingers to fight, in Whose strength are hid the destinies of men, be Thou
with us in the hour of strife. When we go forth into the shadow of death,
make Thou us strong to conquer. Breathe Thou upon our foes and scatter
them; turn Thou their strength to water, and bring their high-blown pride
to nought; compass us about with Thy protection; throw over us the shield
of Thy power; forget us not now in the hour of our sore distress; help us
now that the cruel man would dash our little ones against the stones! Hear
Thou our prayer! And for those of us who, kneeling now on earth in health
before Thee, shall at the sunrise adore Thy Presence on the Throne, hear
our prayer! Make them clean, oh God; wash away their offences in the blood
of the Lamb; and when their spirits pass, oh receive Thou them into the
haven of the just. Go forth, oh Father, go forth with us into the battle,
as with the Israelites of old. Oh God of battle, hear Thou our
prayer!'
He ceased, and after a moment's silence we all rose, and
then began our preparations in good earnest. As Umslopogaas said, it was
time to stop 'talking' and get to business. The men who were to form each
little party were carefully selected, and still more carefully and minutely
instructed as to what was to be done. After much consideration it was
agreed that the ten men led by Good, whose duty it was to stampede the
camp, were not to carry firearms; that is, with the exception of Good
himself, who had a revolver as well as a short sword -- the Masai 'sime'
which I had taken from the body of our poor servant who was murdered in the
canoe. We feared that if they had firearms the result of three cross-fires
carried on at once would be that some of our own people would be shot;
besides, it appeared to all of us that the work they had to do would best
be carried out with cold steel -- especially to Umslopogaas, who was,
indeed, a great advocate of cold steel. We had with us four Winchester
repeating rifles, besides half a dozen Martinis. I armed myself with one
of the repeaters -- my own; an excellent weapon for this kind of work,
where great rapidity of fire is desirable, and fitted with ordinary
flap-sights instead of the cumbersome sliding mechanism which they
generally have. Mr Mackenzie took another, and the two remaining ones were
given to two of his men who understood the use of them and were noted
shots. The Martinis and some rifles of Mr Mackenzie's were served out,
together with a plentiful supply of ammunition, to the other natives who
were to form the two parties whose duty it was to be to open fire from
separate sides of the kraal on the sleeping Masai, and who were fortunately
all more or less accustomed to the use of a gun.
As for Umslopogaas, we know how he was armed -- with an
axe. It may be remembered that he, Sir Henry, and the strongest of the
Askari were to hold the thorn-stopped entrance to the kraal against the
anticipated rush of men striving to escape. Of course, for such a purpose
as this guns were useless. Therefore Sir Henry and the Askari proceeded to
arm themselves in like fashion. It so happened that Mr Mackenzie had in his
little store a selection of the very best and English-made hammer-backed
axe-heads. Sir Henry selected one of these weighing about two and a half
pounds and very broad in the blade, and the Askari took another a size
smaller. After Umslopogaas had put an extra edge on these two axe-heads,
we fixed them to three feet six helves, of which Mr Mackenzie fortunately
had some in stock, made of a light but exceedingly tough native wood,
something like English ash, only more springy. When two suitable helves
had been selected with great care and the ends of the hafts notched to
prevent the hand from slipping, the axe-heads were fixed on them as firmly
as possible, and the weapons immersed in a bucket of water for half an
hour. The result of this was to swell the wood in the socket in such a
fashion that nothing short of burning would get it out again. When this
important matter had been attended to by Umslopogaas, I went into my room
and proceeded to open a little tin-lined deal case, which contained -- what
do you think? -- nothing more or less than four mail shirts.
It had happened to us three on a previous journey that
we had made in another part of Africa to owe our lives to iron shirts of
native make, and remembering this, I had suggested before we started on our
present hazardous expedition that we should have some made to fit us.
There was a little difficulty about this, as armour-making is pretty well
an extinct art, but they can do most things in the way of steel work in
Birmingham if they are put to it and you will pay the price, and the end of
it was that they turned us out the loveliest steel shirts it is possible to
see. The workmanship was exceedingly fine, the web being composed of
thousands upon thousands of stout but tiny rings of the best steel made.
These shirts, or rather steel-sleeved and high-necked jerseys, were lined
with ventilated wash leather, were not bright, but browned like the barrel
of a gun; and mine weighed exactly seven pounds and fitted me so well that
I found I could wear it for days next to my skin without being chafed. Sir
Henry had two, one of the ordinary make, viz. a jersey with little
dependent flaps meant to afford some protection to the upper part of the
thighs, and another of his own design fashioned on the pattern of the
garments advertised as 'combinations' and weighing twelve pounds. This
combination shirt, of which the seat was made of wash-leather, protected
the whole body down to the knees, but was rather more cumbersome, inasmuch
as it had to be laced up at the back and, of course, involved some extra
weight. With these shirts were what looked like four brown cloth
travelling caps with ear pieces. Each of these caps was, however, quilted
with steel links so as to afford a most valuable protection for the
head.
It seems almost laughable to talk of steel shirts in
these days of bullets, against which they are of course quite useless; but
where one has to do with savages, armed with cutting weapons such as
assegais or battleaxes, they afford the most valuable protection, being, if
well made, quite invulnerable to them. I have often thought that if only
the English Government had in our savage wars, and more especially in the
Zulu war, thought fit to serve out light steel shirts, there would be many
a man alive today who, as it is, is dead and forgotten.
To return: on the present occasion we blessed our
foresight in bringing these shirts, and also our good luck, in that they
had not been stolen by our rascally bearers when they ran away with our
goods. As Curtis had two, and after considerable deliberation, had made up
his mind to wear his combination one himself -- the extra three or four
pounds' weight being a matter of no account to so strong a man, and the
protection afforded to the thighs being a very important matter to a
fighting man not armed with a shield of any kind -- I suggested that he
should lend the other to Umslopogaas, who was to share the danger and the
glory of his post. He readily consented, and called the Zulu, who came
bearing Sir Henry's axe, which he had now fixed up to his satisfaction,
with him. When we showed him the steel shirt, and explained to him that we
wanted him to wear it, he at first declined, saying that he had fought in
his own skin for thirty years, and that he was not going to begin now to
fight in an iron one. Thereupon I took a heavy spear, and, spreading the
shirt upon the floor, drove the spear down upon it with all my strength,
the weapon rebounding without leaving a mark upon the tempered steel. This
exhibition half converted him; and when I pointed out to him how necessary
it was that he should not let any old-fashioned prejudices he might possess
stand in the way of a precaution which might preserve a valuable life at a
time when men were scarce, and also that if he wore this shirt he might
dispense with a shield, and so have both hands free, he yielded at once,
and proceeded to invest his frame with the 'iron skin'. And indeed,
although made for Sir Henry, it fitted the great Zulu like a skin. The two
men were almost of a height; and, though Curtis looked the bigger man, I am
inclined to think that the difference was more imaginary than real, the
fact being that, although he was plumper and rounder, he was not really
bigger, except in the arm. Umslopogaas had, comparatively speaking, thin
arms, but they were as strong as wire ropes. At any rate, when they both
stood, axe in hand, invested in the brown mail, which clung to their mighty
forms like a web garment, showing the swell of every muscle and the curve
of every line, they formed a pair that any ten men might shrink from
meeting.
It was now nearly one o'clock in the morning, and the
spies reported that, after having drunk the blood of the oxen and eaten
enormous quantities of meat, the Masai were going to sleep round their
watchfires; but that sentries had been posted at each opening of the kraal.
Flossie, they added, was sitting not far from the wall in the centre of
the western side of the kraal, and by her were the nurse and the white
donkey, which was tethered to a peg. Her feet were bound with a rope, and
warriors were lying about all round her.
As there was absolutely nothing further that could be
done then we all took some supper, and went to lie down for a couple of
hours. I could not help admiring the way in which old Umslopogaas flung
himself upon the floor, and, unmindful of what was hanging over him,
instantly sank into a deep sleep. I do not know how it was with the
others, but I could not do as much. Indeed, as is usual with me on these
occasions, I am sorry to say that I felt rather frightened; and, now that
some of the enthusiasm had gone out of me, and I began to calmly
contemplate what we had undertaken to do, truth compels me to add that I
did not like it. We were but thirty men all told, a good many of whom were
no doubt quite unused to fighting, and we were going to engage two hundred
and fifty of the fiercest, bravest, and most formidable savages in Africa,
who, to make matters worse, were protected by a stone wall. It was,
indeed, a mad undertaking, and what made it even madder was the exceeding
improbability of our being able to take up our positions without attracting
the notice of the sentries. Of course if we once did that -- and any
slight accident, such as the chance discharge of a gun, might do it -- we
were done for, for the whole camp would be up in a second, and our only
hope lay in surprise.
The bed whereon I lay indulging in these uncomfortable
reflections was near an open window that looked on to the veranda, through
which came an extraordinary sound of groaning and weeping. For a time I
could not make out what it was, but at last I got up and, putting my head
out of the window, stared about. Presently I saw a dim figure kneeling on
the end of the veranda and beating his breast -- in which I recognized
Alphonse. Not being able to understand his French talk or what on earth he
was at, I called to him and asked him what he was doing.
'Ah, monsieur,' he sighed, 'I do make prayer for the
souls of those whom I shall slay tonight.'
'Indeed,' I said, 'then I wish that you would do it a
little more quietly.'
Alphonse retreated, and I heard no more of his groans.
And so the time passed, till at length Mr Mackenzie called me in a whisper
through the window, for of course everything had now to be done in the most
absolute silence. 'Three o'clock,' he said: 'we must begin to move at
half-past.'
I told him to come in, and presently he entered, and I
am bound to say that if it had not been that just then I had not got a
laugh anywhere about me, I should have exploded at the sight he presented
armed for battle. To begin with, he had on a clergyman's black
swallow-tail and a kind of broad-rimmed black felt hat, both of which he
had donned on account, he said, of their dark colour. In his hand was the
Winchester repeating rifle we had lent him; and stuck in an elastic
cricketing belt, like those worn by English boys, were, first, a huge
buckhorn-handled carving knife with a guard to it, and next a
long-barrelled Colt's revolver.
'Ah, my friend,' he said, seeing me staring at his belt,
'you are looking at my "carver". I thought it might come in handy if we
came to close quarters; it is excellent steel, and many is the pig I have
killed with it.'
By this time everybody was up and dressing. I put on a
light Norfolk jacket over my mail shirt in order to have a pocket handy to
hold my cartridges, and buckled on my revolver. Good did the same, but Sir
Henry put on nothing except his mail shirt, steel-lined cap, and a pair of
'veldt-schoons' or soft hide shoes, his legs being bare from the knees
down. His revolver he strapped on round his middle outside the armoured
shirt.
Meanwhile Umslopogaas was mustering the men in the
square under the big tree and going the rounds to see that each was
properly armed, etc. At the last moment we made one change. Finding that
two of the men who were to have gone with the firing parties knew little or
nothing of guns, but were good spearsmen, we took away their rifles,
supplied them with shields and long spears of the Masai pattern, and took
them off to join Curtis, Umslopogaas, and the Askari in holding the wide
opening; it having become clear to us that three men, however brave and
strong, were too few for the work.