Chapter IV: Part 4

"We should but have to leave it and all it contains on the way, if we met with the tetse-fly. Its sting is sure death to cattle."

"And does it harm man?" inquired Hughes.

"Singular to say it does not and I do not believe in its existence so near this coast-line; still it's no use running the risk."

"We then resolve to strike the Zambesi, somewhere near Tete or Senna?"

"Yes, passing through the kingdom of this same chief, Machin, who seems to be almost a rival to Mozelkatse."

It was with feelings of great regret the two saw the waggon with its great tilt, lumbering away an hour or two before sunset, under the charge of the missionary's men, and bound for the station of Saint Lucia Bay,--it had been their home so long, that the cattle and horses seemed to them as friends. It was hard to part with them. The ground was strewed with packages, which were to be made up in the most commodious form for carrying, and the party was reduced to its original number of seven, with the addition of the Matabele and the two Europeans. A smaller tent had been fashioned by Noti and Luji, out of some spare canvas, easily carried, and it was now pitched by the river side, under the thick shade of a group of trees. Just as the last rays of the sun were gilding the river with gold, making it, indeed, look like the Gold River, Masheesh dropped down it in a canoe, and sunrise saw them on their way to Sofala. The crew of the boat consisted of the missionary, Captain Hughes, Masheesh, and the powerful Kaffir, Noti; Luji being left in charge of the camp at Gorongoza. Floating down the river in a comfortable canoe, between banks whose verdure was most luxuriant, was a pleasant change after the days of toilsome march. The palmyra, the wild date, mohanno, mowanna, and many other tropical trees grew in rich luxuriance, while the thick tangled undergrowth, mixed up with a host of creeping cane-like plants, rendered it impossible to penetrate the forest-land. Long reeds of various kinds hung over the banks, and beautiful water-lilies of gigantic size floated on the water. Wherever a break occurred among the trees, grew grass, or fields of wild maize or wild cotton were to be seen, and now and then the water antelope would dash into the stream and swim across. The party trusted to their rifles for food, and one of these antelopes coming well within range, Wyzinski fired, wounding the animal severely just as he reached the shore. The canoe dashed on to overtake it, which would easily have been done, for the deer was unable to climb the steep bank, and twice failed in the attempt, falling back into the water, when a huge alligator rose, showing his long shovel-shaped snout above the river. A ball struck the alligator, but without penetrating its mail. The deer struggled wildly for a moment, several other dark log-like forms showed on the bank, and the antelope disappeared, the water bubbling crimson for a moment; the next the canoe moved gently over the reddened river, and all was still.

A second deer swam the stream, and this time it was different.

"Let him go, Wyzinski," whispered Hughes; "the alligators won't touch him while he is swimming."

"Take the shot yourself; see, he nears the bank."

The report of the rifle rang out just as the deer scrambled up it, startling whole flocks of wild duck out of the reeds and rushes. The antelope, with a broken leg, fell, but quickly struggling up again, would have escaped into the bush, when a second ball from Wyzinski's rifle stopped it. The deer proved to be a fine buck, of an ashy grey, with long horns like a goat, of a yellowish brown colour. The horns at first when starting from the head trended directly backwards, and then curved forwards, the tips being very pointed. The legs were remarkably short for a deer, and it could not be very swift on land, for, added to the shortness of limb, the girth round the carcass was very large. The dead buck measured nearly eleven feet in length, and ten in circumference.

"What a beautiful spot!" remarked Hughes, towards three o'clock in the afternoon. "The green bank slopes down to the water's edge, and the turf, dotted with its clumps of palmyra, acacia, and date-trees, looks for all the world like a gentleman's park. Behind rises the forest, where we can suppose the baronial hall to lie, and in the distance the lofty range of the Nyamonga mountains. We only want the lodge gates to complete the picture."

"You are a bad auctioneer, Hughes," laughed his comrade; "you have omitted the greatest charm. I mean the river, with its beautiful reeds waving in the breeze, its magnificent water-lilies, and the flocks of wild duck floating in and out."

"Some of them are really very beautiful, and I never saw any like them. Look at that lot sailing away before us, their necks, backs, and throats a beautiful orange, while the head is glossy black. They must be splendid divers, and what a rate they go at."

"I never saw ducks before," replied the more scientific missionary, "possessing the power of partially submerging themselves; only the head and top of the back is above water as they paddle along. Steer the canoe in shore, there are quantities of wild duck there."

"But not the same sort; see, the head is brown, beautifully pencilled with black," said Hughes, as they all ceased rowing, and the boat, left to the current, glided among the broad leaves of the water-lilies, "the body and wings the same, while a deep yellow ring runs round the neck. There they go," he continued, "spattering along the water, just like water-hens, and then diving."

Floating slowly on, the canoe entered a little bay, where a quantity of drift wood had accumulated. "Only look, Hughes; why there are hundreds of them feeding apparently on insects found on the floating wood," cried Wyzinski.

"Again another species, for these are of a brownish-red, intermixed with dirty white. What say you to landing in our park, taking possession, and having our dinner there?"

"Agreed; but first of all I must have that bird; I never saw one like it," replied the missionary. Strange birds of brilliant plumage were flying about; among others, a small one, which hovered over the water like a hawk, espying its finny prey doubtless from its dizzy height; and then, apparently shutting its wings, would drop or dart into the river, like a stone, making the water splash around. A shot gun had been placed in the boat, and the missionary wounded one of these birds. For fully ten minutes the canoe chased it, the bird diving and remaining so long under water that it was almost impossible to tell where it would rise, and eventually it got away.

The day was hot, although a cool breeze was blowing on the river, bending down the long reeds on the banks, as heated with their long chase, and laughing at their failure, the boat was forced through the drift wood into the little bay, and eventually made fast by a rope to the trunk of a tree.

"Here, Noti, help me to haul out the carcass of the water-buck, and we'll make a fire under yonder clump," shouted Hughes as he leaped ashore.

The fire was soon blazing merrily, and great collops of venison roasting before it. The monkeys came grinning and chattering among the branches, looking at the intruders, and occasionally pelting pieces of bark at them; strange birds of bright plumage circled round them, and whole flocks of ducks went winding about among the leaves of the water-lilies before their eyes.

Seated under the shade of a splendid tree, the bright knives were soon at work, and a hearty meal made, washed down by clear cool water from the springs of Gorongoza.

"What do you say to making an hour or two of halt here, Wyzinski?" said Hughes, with his mouth full of venison meat. "It's a sweet spot, and we could pull gently down the river in the cool of the night."

"I should like very much to secure some specimens of the strange birds I see here," replied the missionary, "and the moon rises early."

"Well, then, take Noti with you, and Masheesh and I will be boat-keepers. I shall have a sleep."

Taking a short gun, and calling to Noti to fetch his rifle and follow him, Wyzinski strolled away leisurely into the bush, having first taken the bearings of the place by means of a small pocket compass he always carried.

Covering up the remains of the buck with green branches to keep it fresh, Hughes took a good pull at the gourd of water, and then lay down, Masheesh strolling towards the boat. The mosquitos were too troublesome, however, so he rose, joined the Matabele in pushing off the canoe, anchored her by means of a rope and stone, lay down, and was soon fast asleep at the bottom of the boat. Half awake at first, the faint report of Wyzinski's gun came now and then upon his ear, but at last sleep prevailed. The sun was low, and his beams slanting over the forest-land, when, aroused by Masheesh shaking the branches with which he had covered him, Captain Hughes awoke. It is a peculiarity common to those who lead a life of danger and adventure, that the moment of awakening at once restores all their faculties. They begin, as it were, where they left off. Such was the case in the present instance, for one look at the Matabele's face at once told Hughes that something was wrong. Carefully raising himself in the light canoe, a glance showed the danger. There, on the beautiful green patch where the party had eaten their meal, three splendid lions were walking to and fro, rolling on the grass, growling and playing, and a lioness with one cub had shown herself and retired previously. It was a splendid sight to watch these magnificent animals at their gambols; but what of Wyzinski, what of Noti, the one armed with a shot gun, the other with a rifle he only half understood, and what was worse, both utterly unconscious of the presence of the owners of the land. Presently one of the old lions stopped for a moment, snuffing like a dog with his nose in the air, and then walking deliberately to the travellers' impromptu, larder, drew forth the remains of the water-buck. A second at once seized it, the third came up, and a tremendous _melee_ ensued, during which the body of the deer was riven into pieces, and lions and carrion seemed rolling about in one heap. Motioning to the Matabele, and with his help gently lifting the anchor clear of the ground, the boat was suffered to drop down the stream, its occupants using their hands as paddles on the off side. By this means it arrived within fifteen paces of the bank, where the lions were now feeding quietly, when the stone was again dropped, and the canoe swung head to stream. They, thinking it to be an alligator, had not taken the slightest notice of the boat, and went on feeding, tearing and riving the flesh, but stopping now and then to growl savagely at each other. Just then, Hughes caught a faint report, and the noise of the shot gun being even at that distance easily distinguished from the sharper crack of the rifle, it told him that the missionary was as yet safe and far away, the report coming to his ears only as a distant echo.

Thinking it better to leave the animals to feed, he and Masheesh watched them. Half an hour passed, the flesh being nearly gone, and a few of the larger bones only remaining. The ducks were sailing about the canoe, the birds gliding here and there; but sunset was approaching, and it became absolutely necessary to get rid of them. Leaning his rifle across the slight gunwale, Hughes took a steady aim. Just in front of him sat a great lion, with the last remnants of the buck's forequarters flung over his paws, crunching at the bones. The report rang out, startling the whole crew, but whether from nervousness, or from some motion of the boat, he knew not, the shot missed; the startled animals, after gazing for a moment, trotted deliberately off, Hughes firing another barrel after them. One of them turned at the second shot, growling fiercely, then the whole disappeared in the cover, while the ring of the shot gun was heard about a mile away, replying to that from the river. The report came from a direction exactly opposite to that in which the lions had disappeared. A quarter of an hour later the long plaintive cry of the Australian bushranger was heard and replied to, and then Wyzinski made his appearance, breaking his way through the bush, his dress torn, and about thirty different kinds of birds dangling round his waist. To his great surprise, Hughes rushed forward and shook him by the hand.

"Why, what's the matter?" he asked.

"Matter enough; have you seen any lions?"

"I have not seen anything except these birds, some snakes, and a great many different kinds of monkeys, some of them very large."

"Where's Noti?" was the next question, "I'm sure I don't know," replied the missionary. "He left me to follow a caracal."

"Did you hear any lions about?"

"No, nor was I likely; that beast does not ramble during the day. I saw great quantities of monkeys, I repeat."

Hughes told his tale, and the full danger of Noti's situation was realised. Night, too, was now falling. The three set to work to collect brushwood, and the shot gun soon procured them some ducks for supper. A roaring fire was lighted, and enough wood got together to keep it up. All night long the lions were heard roaring, the cry of the jackals and hyenas showed that they too were very numerous, and several large snakes, one of them more than eight feet long, came within the light of the fire. The bush swarmed with monkeys, and when the moon rose, silvering the river with her light two lions were seen to cross the open. Still there were no tidings of the missing Noti. The three men watched by turns all night in the canoe, one of them landing from time to time to keep up the fire. Wyzinski's Australian bush cry rang out at times on the still air of the African night. It was since the affair of the lioness of Zoutpansburgh perfectly well-known to all in camp, but no responsive shout came back, though the night was so still that the watchers often thought they could distinguish the roar of the far distant surf. Morning dawned on the anxious men, the birds woke up and began skimming about, the ducks sailed out from among the reeds and water-lilies, and still no signs of Noti.

"I fear we have lost one of our number," observed the missionary, as he let fly into a flock of duck, knocking over four. "Let us ask Masheesh to pluck and cook those, and you and I go in search of poor Noti."

"Agreed," replied the soldier, who was standing in the water of a small pool, having a good wash. A loud cry from Masheesh, who had just secured the fourth duck, was heard, when a figure was seen staggering out of the wood, into the open. It was Noti, who came on, his gun raised above his head, reeling like a drunken man, and before he had traversed half the space, falling heavily on his face to the ground.

Rising, the black stumbled forward a few paces and again fell heavily. Lifting him gently, the three carried the poor fellow to the canoe, placed him in it, washed the clotted gore from his face, breast, and left side, covering him with branches.

Attracted by the blood, the flow of which it was impossible to stop, the flies came round in myriads, and it was deemed best to paddle down the river, Masheesh tending the dying man, for such he evidently was.

An hour afterwards, Noti was no more; but just before he breathed his last, consciousness returned, and he was able to tell his tale.

He had lost his way following the caracal, had wandered about he knew not where. Had heard the shots fired at the lions, and one of the animals passing not far from him, he had climbed into a tree, knowing he would not be deserted. All night long they had roamed about him, one apparently wounded lying down under the tree where he lay concealed. Towards morning it got up and walked into the bush.

Guided by the Australian bush cry, which he had heard perfectly, Noti had come down from his tree. Trembling with fear, the black moved cautiously on, and suddenly found himself face to face with the wounded lion, who instantly sprang upon him. The rifle exploded, but how, the poor frightened wretch never knew, for beast and man were rolling on the ground together, and doubtless startled by the report, similar to that which preceded his wound, the lion bounded away, leaving the mangled insensible Noti on the ground. Its claws had dreadfully disfigured his face, and the powerful jaws had crushed in the ribs of the right side. The whole had passed in a few seconds, and now at the bottom of the boat lay the corpse of poor Noti.

About one o'clock that day the bar was reached, and the three gazed upon the long blue line of ocean, with its restless waves, tipped with foam. "I had no idea the river was so marshy at its mouth, nor that we should find a bar," said Hughes.

"There is almost invariably one at the mouth of African rivers; and look at the herons fishing. There are quantities of these birds, and they seem smaller than any I have seen before. What a beautiful dark purple; and the throat, too, streaked with purple lines, only they have no tail," said Wyzinski. "And the birds' nests, only see what a number of them; they actually overhang the water, seeming to all but touch the river."

"That is almost always the case where snakes abound," replied the missionary. "The birds know that water is their best protector from these reptiles; and these are the nest builders, those bright yellow birds scarce seven inches long. How active they are."

In truth the river abounded with life. There were hawks and eagles soaring near, birds of beautiful colours darting to and fro. The kingfisher, with its heavy scarlet bill, and its wings of bright blue, came dashing past, while another and even more beautiful bird kept crossing before the canoe as if accompanying it, its head a bright green colour, with wings of purple and green mixed, and long dark purple tail.

"Well, I am not sorry to see the blue waves once more, and to hear the scream of the gulls and Mother Carey's chickens," exclaimed Hughes, as they stepped on shore, and hauled the canoe up bodily on the bank.

"Look yonder, under the palm and date-trees, are some Kaffir huts. Let us see what they are," said Wyzinski.

Telling Masheesh to stop by the boat, which yet contained the body of the dead Noti, the two took their way to the kraal. There were about twenty huts, and the tribe seemed very poor. The first group they came to was composed of women.

"There, Hughes," said the missionary, "that smacks of Egyptian customs, anyway."

"What does?" inquired the other. "I see nothing but some women grinding maize."

"Just so, but look at the mode of doing it. The old Egyptian hieroglyphics exactly reproduce it."

This was indeed the case, but the chief of the tribe now advanced to meet them. He was a tall long-limbed man of a deep brown tint, with grey hair and regular features--not in any one respect resembling the Kaffirs, except as to dress, or rather the want of it.

"Well, that is strange," remarked Hughes. "If I was in India, I should say I saw an Arab. Speak to him, Wyzinski."

The missionary, using the Zulu dialect, asked his name.

"Achmet Ben Arif," replied the man. "It is the first time for many years the trader has reached the ruins of Sofala."

"Ruins!" exclaimed Wyzinski, at once mounting his favourite hobby, "where are they?"

The Arab, for such in effect he was, together with all his tribe, raised his hand, pointing to a spot a few hundred yards distant, where mounds and fragments of fallen masonry were visible.

The missionary was moving away before the chief had done speaking, eager to reach the ruins.

"But how," asked Hughes, speaking his own tongue, which he had acquired in India, "how comes an Arab tribe settled here?"

"We know not," replied the chief. "For ages have our fathers lived here, near the ruins of the white man's fort."

"And yet you have preserved the Arab language, and the Arab blood."

"Pure and unchanged, our customs, language and tradition remain as they were; the dress of our people alone is altered. And instead of the bournous of our fathers, we wear skins like the Kaffir. It is our destiny. We have gold if the white chiefs will trade."

"We are not traders, chief. But what are the ruins yonder? Who built them?"

"The fathers of your own people; the white traders of _Tete_ and the Zambesi."

These, then, were the ruins of the Portuguese fort of Sofala, consequently the river the party had descended, which Masheesh called the Golden River, was once the means of extensive trade with the interior. Leaving the chief, Hughes joined the missionary, communicating to him the result of his conversation. The ruins of a large stone fort were crumbling away before them, the masses of fallen masonry gradually disappearing before the slow but steady action of time, besides being partially buried in the sand drifted up before the winter gales. The Arab chief followed them, after having spoken to the men near him, several of whom started off in different directions, two sauntering lazily down to the boat. The old man seemed puzzled as to what interest could attach to the ruins.

"The stones," said he, raising his hand as he spoke, and pointing over the ocean, whose waves were rolling in thunder on the bar,--"the stones came from over the big water to build the white man's fort."

"That's nonsense," exclaimed the missionary, speaking in English, and wandering from mound to mound. "They were taken from some ruins in the interior, and it is those we seek. The mined cities of Zulu land."

"How firmly you have got that into your head, Wyzinski," replied his companion.

"Into my head. Do you not see, do you not remember what Masheesh told us this morning?" returned the missionary in an excited tone. "Away yonder to the north and west, running through a territory disputed between Mozelkatse and Machin, are the rivers Thati and Ramaquotan. There lie the gold fields of Solomon somewhere in that neighbourhood; the ruined cities of the mighty old Egyptians, the ancient gold diggers, crumble into dust."

"You are crazy on the subject, Wyzinski. What has an old Portuguese fort to do with all this?" replied Hughes, seriously.

"You are blind, Hughes, or will not see," returned the other, in a sharp tone. "Did not Masheesh call yonder river the Golden River--and why?"

"Because gold may have been found in its banks, or on its bar. The thing is simple enough, Wyzinski."

"It is you that are simple," said the excited man. "The river brought down the boats with their cargo of gold, dug near the sources of the Limpopo. The Sofala of the Portuguese is the Ophir of Solomon. Here the ships of Tarshish came, and from that trade in gold the river took, and still keeps its name--the Golden River."

There was nothing for it but to accept the dogma. The Arab chief looked on in grave silence, but no further information could be extracted from him, and except the direct visual evidence that a strong stone fort had existed here, which was known to have been Portuguese, nothing could be discovered. The ruins were nearly buried in sand, but there they still remain on the shores of South Africa, the fort of Sofala being well-known to all the traders on the coast, and the high headland near them being a much-used landmark for mariners. The moon rose, and Masheesh having borrowed a hoe, the whole party set to work to bury their dead. They took it in turns, the Matabele chief at first objecting, but ultimately taking his spell at it. Wyzinski was in the hole, working vigorously and silently, the regular roll of the ocean on the bar being the only sound heard. Masheesh was squatted by the open grave, his knees drawn up and his elbows resting on them, the palms of his hands supporting his head. Hughes stood gazing over the broad expanse of the Indian Ocean, with his forage-cap in his hand, the cool sea breeze playing amidst the heavy masses of dark hair which waved uncared for over his sun-burnt forehead. Suddenly the vigorous strokes of the hoe ceased, its sharp broad edge had struck something, and the missionary stooping lifted that something, tossed it on the bank, and jumped out of the grave. A piece of massive masonry overshadowed the spot casting a long dark shadow over the Kaffir's resting-place among the ruins of Sofala, as snatching up what looked like a mere stone, Wyzinski stepped into the moonlight and began rubbing away the sand and dust from what proved to be a bar of pure gold, evidently smelted and worked into its present shape. It was a curious sight, the moon shining brightly on the ruined masses of masonry, streaming over the rolling ocean waves, lighting up the date and palmyra trees, with their long fan-like leaves, and showing the group eagerly bending over the gold, while stiff and stark beside them lay the dead body of the Kaffir, Noti. Then came a warning cry from the Matabele warrior, and the next moment a line of dusky savages, armed with their assegais and war-clubs, swept round them.

It was a peculiarity of the missionary's never to lose the quiet calmness of his manner, under any circumstances, however trying. The greater the danger the more quiet, cool, and methodical he seemed to become. Unarmed, for their rifles were in the canoe, and consequently utterly defenceless, the whole party stood among the ruins of Sofala, surrounded by the warriors of the Arab tribe, while Wyzinski, as if nothing more than ordinary had happened, seated himself on a ruined slab, more accurately to examine the bar of gold.

The old chief Achmet advanced, and using the Arab tongue, addressed the soldier, who felt none of the stern coolness of the missionary.

"I thought the white men were not merchants, and refused gold," the old man remarked. "They are then thieves who rob, and not fair traders who barter."

"We found the gold by chance, chief."

The Arab laughed. "The white men came down the river by chance, to the very spot where we find from time to time the gold buried; by chance they dig for it and find it. Let them not laugh at an old man, whose grey hairs will not bear it. Mashallah, let them give back the gold, or my children take it."

"You are welcome, chief," replied the soldier, taking the bar from Wyzinski, who seemed sunk in reverie, and giving it to Achmet. "And now withdraw your warriors, and let us finish what we are about."

"Are the white men murderers as well as gold seekers?" asked Achmet Ben Arif, pointing to the dead body which lay dark and motionless in the moonlight.

"Look for yourself, chief. The wounds will tell their own tale," answered the other.

The old man bent over the corpse, putting his hand on the torn face, and feeling the broken ribs. His fingers followed the wounds for several minutes, then rising, "It is a lion which has done this," he said.

"It is, chief," and Hughes told how the death had occurred.

Achmet turned to his warriors, spoke a few words with them, when they retired, vanishing among the trees as silently as they had appeared, the old chief alone remaining.

"And you say," asked Wyzinski, "that you often find worked and smelted gold here?"

"Yes," replied the chief, "often."

"It is Portuguese, and wherever they have drawn it from is the country we seek, the ancient Ophir of Solomon. There can be no doubt of that."

"Let the white men bury their dead," answered Achmet; "and let them seek Machin, chief of Manica, and the Makoapa."

And so poor Noti was lowered into his grave, and the missionary breathed the white man's prayer over the Kaffir resting-place, among the crumbling ruins of Sofala. Heavy stones were rolled over the spot to baulk the jackals of their prey, and the old chief stood calmly by, finally escorting the party to their canoe. All that night and the following they toiled up the stream, resting during the day, bearing the roar of the lion occasionally, and often startled by the plop of the alligators, as they slid off the bank into the water. The afternoon of the third day only, the camp at Gorongoza was reached, their numbers reduced by one.

Volume 1, Chapter IX.

GORONGOZA.

"I think," said Hughes, as the two sat outside the small tent, pitched by the side of the stream, the morning after their return from Sofala,--"I think we had better remain here for a time."

"I agree with you; and as there is no one to say us No, let it be decided in the affirmative. There are large quantities of wild ducks, and our fellows are so expert in finding their eggs, that the great change to men who have lived so long on nothing but venison must be beneficial."

"We have plenty of fruit, too, and the ground-nuts are not to be despised. These cool streams, which seem to take their rise in yonder mountains, are another inducement. Our lines are at present cast in pleasant places, and what lies beyond seems uncertain. Let us profit by the present."

"I want to go over all our baggage, and put our fellows in light marching order. To look at our little camp now, without waggon or horses, without cattle, and our numbers so reduced, we seem to resemble one of the parties so well painted by Cooper in his Indian tales. Who are those fellows?"

A party of natives were seen approaching, among whom was the Matabele chief. They were almost naked, but came on with a most assured air, squatting down in a half circle before the tent, and employing all their powers in staring stolidly at the strangers.

"Here, Luji," shouted Hughes, who was carefully loading his rifle, "just see what these fellows want, will you?"

"Want calico, master," said Luji, after a great amount of talk, "give gold."

The Macomb, for such they were, produced from their waist-belts quills closed at each end, which contained gold. Some of the grains were of large size, and one of the natives showed a small lump of the yellow metal. It was quite evident that they knew where to procure it.

"Does not all this go to prove my theory, Hughes; and are we not approaching a gold country?"

"Tell them we are not traders, Luji. That we have not any calico; but ask if there is any large game about."

The scantily-dressed natives squatted on, looking fixedly at the Europeans, and evidently not believing the assertion. At length one of their number, touching a large piece of canvas, which had been thrown on one side after fashioning the small tent, spoke volubly, often pointing to the mountain. "The Macomb show master caracal for this," said Luji, laughing.

"What's a caracal, Wyzinski?" asked Hughes. "Oh, these people call the leopard by that name; but the real caracal is the lynx or wild cat," answered the missionary.

"Ask him where his caracal is, Luji?" said Hughes. The native pointed to a ledge of rock, high up the mountain-side.

"Well, tell him he shall have it, Luji, if he shows me the leopard. I'll leave you to the baggage department, Wyzinski, and see whether I can get the caracal's skin. Take the canvas, Luji, and come along. Tell him you will give it him if I get a shot at the leopard."

Shouldering his rifle, Hughes moved on, beckoning to the native and Luji to follow him. The former rose and obeyed, while his comrades remained squatted before the tent, steadfastly gazing at Wyzinski, their eyes following his every movement, and so they remained stolidly staring for hours, before they took their departure.

Wending his way among the men, who were busily employed plucking wild ducks, and preparing them for the mid-day dinner, pounding up the manioc flour to make cakes, or looking to the fires, Hughes took his way towards the mountain, the native guide and Luji following. Hardly had they left the outskirts of the camp, when the monkey came bounding after them.

"Let him alone, Luji; you can't drive him away," said Hughes, as with a leap the mischievous brute ensconced himself on the man's shoulders, the Macombe looking at the scene in great astonishment.

Toiling up the face of the hill-side, they reached at last the ledge of rock. It would have been very hazardous to face the leopard with so small a footing; besides, the animal, of course, had a refuge there. Making a wide circuit, the party, accompanied by the monkey, gained a height immediately above the ledge. Posting Luji at a spot where he judged he might prove useful in case the leopard bolted and the Hottentot did not, Captain Hughes, lying flat on his face, leaned over the edge of the precipitous rock, and looked down on to the ledge. It was a very awkward position, and when far enough over to enable the hunter to fire, he found himself nearly overbalanced.

The ledge was empty, but after watching for an hour, and when nearly wearied out, the leopard at last came out of his cave, and began walking up and down the narrow space.

Just as the animal, in one of his turns, arrived under him, the hunter fired. The ball struck obliquely, where the spine joins with the head, and, slanting off, lodged in the brain, death being instantaneous, but the hunter was nearly overbalanced. Just as he struggled to his knees, the baboon, with a tremendous spring, lighted right on his shoulders. The sudden shock destroyed the balance, and clutching at the bushes, which gave way slowly, one by one, Hughes went over the precipice.

They luckily saved him, but, bruised and shaken, he fell on the ledge, close to the dead leopard, the lock of the rifle being broken in the fall. Looking up, he saw the monkey, peering over, and grimacing, for so nimble was it, that it had not shared the fall. Shaking his fist, in return for which he received a shower of stones and dirt, Hughes moved cautiously along the ledge. The leopard was quite dead. A cave lay a little further on, and as he entered it, he was almost driven back by the close smell of decaying flesh. It was heaped with bones, and remains of deer, and must have been used for many years.

The leopard was a male, and the female might be near. Advancing cautiously, his rifle, only one barrel of which was available, in his hand, Hughes was astonished by the great extent of the cavern. To the right, it soon became black as night, and the sound of falling water was to be heard. This might explain the extreme coldness and clearness of the streams of Gorongoza, for doubtless they took their rise in the heart of these mountains, flowing perhaps for miles in darkness among the caverns. The roof was covered with beautiful white stalactites, but the eye could not penetrate the thick darkness in this direction. To the left a kind of corridor led towards an opening giving on the mountain-side, and towards this Hughes turned, glad to get away from the fetid exhalations of the cavern. Two hedgehogs were travelling in the same direction, the quills of which were very curious, being differently coloured, some white, others black, and some brown, the body, where it could be seen, entirely black. The animals rolled themselves up securely, looking just like parti-coloured balls. Emerging into daylight, and stepping from ledge to ledge, Hughes gained the mountain-side, hearing from time to time Luji's shouts, as the man searched for him, then crossing a deep cut, he gained another spur of the Nyamonga range, higher far than the hill of Gorongoza.

Shading his eyes with his hand, Captain Hughes paused breathless on the mountain-height. The whole country lay spread like a map before him. Far away to the east lay the face of a friend, for the blue line of the ocean was distinctly visible. The mountain range on which he stood ran nearly north and south, while the beautifully wooded plain, across which the party had travelled, was mapped out before his gaze, with Quissanga, Madanda, and the country of the Batonga plainly visible, the rivers looking like silvery threads, and the vast forests like inky spots, on the sunlit plain. To the north, stretched at the foot of the mountains, lay the plains they were yet to traverse, the unknown land of promise. It looked one dense forest, broken at rare intervals with open, and intersected by two rivers, one appearing a considerable sheet of water, while in the far distance, a range of lofty mountains loomed, dim, blue, and ghostlike in their outline.

A deep interest attached itself to the scene, for between him and those mountains the Zambesi must run, and somewhere among the forests must lie the ruined cities of Zulu land, if indeed they existed at all, save in the excited imagination of the missionary. An hour had gone by and still Hughes stood gazing over the scene, when a shout came ringing up the hill-side, and soon a dark speck was seen jumping from ledge to ledge. Recognising his comrade, Hughes answered the cry.

"I was anxious about you," said Wyzinski, as he stood breathless and panting on the summit. "The whole camp is out in search of you; Luji brought in a report that you had pitched over the cliff."

"And so I did, thanks to his demon of a monkey."

"Yes; we found the dead leopard, and when searching, I thought I saw something like a human outline on the mountain."

"Now, Wyzinski," asked his comrade, as he leaned on his rifle, "where runs the Zambesi? for I suppose it is between us and yonder mountains."

"Follow the coast-line," returned the other. "There lies Sofala, and some forty or fifty miles more to the north the Zambesi must empty itself into the sea at Quillimane."

"Livingstone came as far south as that, and as far north from the Cape as the Limpopo."

"He did: but instead of travelling further north as we have done, he turned to the westward, visiting the Bechuanas and Mozelkatse's country; but see, what on earth can that be?"

The missionary pointed to a kind of cairn on the mountain-side. Beside it lay six slabs of stone, and that they were the work of the white man was evident. Cracked, blackened, and defaced, there was no mistake, the stones were worked into flat slabs, but whose were the hands that fashioned them?

"There seems to be an inscription," said Wyzinski, as he stooped over them. "I feel deep marks in the stone, but the earth has given way beneath them, and creeping plants have grown over them. All these three are cracked and broken."

"Here are three out of the six in a better state," said Hughes. "We can cut away the undergrowth."

"If we can get at one only that will be sufficient," said Wyzinski, eagerly, as the two cut away at the masses of weed with their knives. "Should there be any inscription, we may gain some knowledge to guide our future course."

It took a long time and much labour to clear away the undergrowth, and then but to meet with disappointment.

"The different wandering tribes who have camped here have used the slabs as fire-places," observed Wyzinski, sighing. "We must have water, and how can we get it here."

"Oh, easily," replied Hughes, whose experience of Indian life came to his aid. "With a buffalo hide we can make a bag which will hold water, and can be carried on a man's back. We call them bheasties in Madras."

"The black grime and the dirt of ages seems encrusted on the slabs of Gorongoza," remarked the missionary. "I can feel that there is an inscription, but I can't make it out. The dirt has become like stone, and will want long softening, before we can scoop it out."

"It seems to me, as far as fingers can tell, that the cuttings are of European form. This would go against your theory, Wyzinski."

"We will see that to-morrow," was the reply, as rising and shutting their knives the two took their way down to the plain, speculating moodily on the probable history of the slabs of Gorongoza.

The night set in wild and stormy, the thunder echoing among the mountains, and the rain falling in torrents, but when morning dawned, waking up the wild ducks among the long reeds, and bringing them out on the clear waters of the Golden River, rousing up the parrots and the monkeys in the neighbouring groves, and hushing the cries of the jackals on the plains, the air was cool and pleasant.

Clothes hung on the branches near, drying in the sunshine; rifles and guns were being cleaned, the fires were lighted, and the never ceasing process of cooking was going on. Luji and one of the Kaffirs were drawing the sides of a buffalo hide together by means of a string, so as to carry water, working under Hughes's direction. The missionary was busy with a small tool-chest, carefully selecting the objects which would aid in the proposed search. The leopard's skin, stretched on two sticks, was drying in the morning sunshine, and the baboon dodging here and there, doing all the mischief possible, and stealing everything it could lay its hands upon.

Seizing on a wild duck, just ready for the fire, the incorrigible ape bounded off with it, pursued by one of the Kaffirs. The monkey gained the neighbouring grove, and plunged in, followed by its pursuer. The next moment the animal dashed back, having dropped the bird, evidently terribly alarmed, and chattering its teeth, took refuge with Luji.

"There is something in the bush, Luji," said Hughes, snatching up his rifle. "Wyzinski, look out, there is something wrong yonder."

The Kaffir, who had pursued the ape, had halted, and was staring fixedly in the direction of the wood.

"There's the solution of the mystery," returned the missionary, calmly, continuing his work as though nothing had happened, while one by one in Indian file, some fifty men, fully armed, and evidently belonging to a tribe not yet met with, stepped out of the wood and advanced towards the little camp. Halting about thirty paces distant, the party squatted on the ground, holding their long assegais in their hands, and having their shields in readiness apparently for attack.

"Do you observe," remarked the missionary, raising his head from his work, "those men have none of the length of limb of the Zulu race, but are, on the contrary, small of stature and villainously ugly? There is the chief advancing towards us."

"Well, he is certainly a curious object," replied the soldier, leaning on his rifle. "I never saw a man with so low a forehead, so prominent cheek-bones, or so flat a nose. For all covering a piece of hide round the loins, and what on earth has he on his face? They look like button mushrooms growing out of the flesh. Pah! it's enough to make one sick."

Low of stature, very black, and having the peculiarities named by Hughes, the chief's natural ugliness was greatly heightened by a row of gold buttons, let into the flesh, from the point of the nose to the roots of the hair.

With a firm step and upright bearing, this hideous object advanced into the camp. Masheesh joined the group, and while the dusky braves, with their assegais and shields, remained calmly looking on, a long parley took place before the tent.

The chief of this man's tribe had his kraal near Manica, and was a dependant of the great Machin himself, a rival of Mozelkatse. To him the Arab, Achmet Ben Arif, had sent a runner, telling of what bad passed at Sofala, and also of the travellers' objects in thus seeking the interior. The chief invited the whole party to his kraal at Busi, and under the circumstances, with fifty lance-heads glittering in the sunshine, to enforce the proffered hospitality, it was difficult to say No.

"The direction, too," said the missionary, "is exactly that we wish to take; and if even we could help ourselves, which we can't, it will be better to go."

"Then we must leave the mysterious slabs on the top of yonder mountain, with their tales untold."

"Our first object," replied the missionary, "is to discover the ruined cities of Zulu land; we can return any time to Gorongoza; and who so likely to aid our search as this chief of Manica."

"If he is anything like his envoy, I don't care much to see him, for a more villainous lot I never met."

"Tell him we will break ground at daylight to-morrow, Matabele," said Wyzinski, and the interview ended. The armed men lounged lazily about the camp, the baggage was put in order, the slabs of Gorongoza were left behind, and the next day, having followed a northerly direction, with some westing in it, the Mahongo river was passed. With so strong a party it was easy to drive the antelope, so hartebeest and eland meat was plentiful in the camp. The route sometimes led through thick forests, which the travellers would have had some difficulty in threading unguided, and it was only on the tenth day after quitting Gorongoza the party reached the kraal, to find the chief absent, having been called to Manica on a great hunting expedition. Wyzinski wished to proceed to Manica, but they found themselves virtually prisoners though their arms were left, and a hut was assigned to the white men, Luji remaining with them. The baboon gradually gained a great reputation, and the Hottentot was looked upon as the "charmer" of the party, a reputation which pleased his childish nature, and which he added to by teaching the monkey all kind of tricks, and never moving about without it. He was in consequence regarded with some awe, and the baboon, supposed also to possess the secret of "charms," was always respected.

The place itself was curious enough. Three conical hills rose in the plain, the top of one of them being as it were shaved off, most probably by the action of time. This flat and rather inaccessible ground was the residence of the chief, and here too was the usual stockade, where the councils of the tribe were held. At the foot of this hill lay the huts of the kraal, one of which, detached from the rest, was given to the white men. In form it resembled exactly the dome-shaped tent of a subaltern in India, a pole also running up the centre, the whole being made of wood, covered with bark, and having, instead of a door, a small opening constructed like a narrow passage. Skins served as a bed, and the furniture consisted of a large earthen vase made to contain the maize or manioc flour; the cowrie baskets and knapsacks having also been deposited inside. A large tree overshadowed the bark hut, and under it the greater part of the day was spent, and all cooking was carried on, the natives themselves evidently living almost wholly in the open air, and only retiring to their huts during bad weather. The women of this tribe were fully as repulsive as the men, and they too wore the curious buttons, sometimes of brass, sometimes of copper, but always in rows as high as the cheek bone, and occasionally one or two in the chin, the buttons being let into the flesh when young, and thus grown in. One strange peculiarity which struck the Europeans forcibly was that among the women, a slit was made in the skin on each side the hip. The youngest child is carried on the parent's back, and this slit serves it as a stirrup, so that with one arm round the mother's neck, the child is carried easily and safely, the mother having the free use of her hands. This is the more necessary, as much of the labour is done by the women, the maize or manioc being all ground up by them, the instruments used and the mode of using them being exactly that shown forth in the old Egyptian symbolical sculpture. Among the males the Jewish custom of circumcision prevailed, and these were two points which struck Wyzinski particularly. The tribe was not indigenous, but under the control of Machin, chief of Manica, and was made up of a mixed race, being partly of the blood of the Makoapa, who owned Knobneusen as their chief, partly of that of a fierce and treacherous race called Banyai.

This native kraal of Busi is pleasantly situated. To the northward, far away in the distance, a lofty hill called "Morumbala," near whose base flows the "Zambesi," while to the southward the mountains of Nyamonga and Gorongoza stretch away into the horizon. Thick forests of trees, many of them of tropical growth, sweep around, while the plains are rich in luxuriant vegetation. The cedar, the ebony palmyra, mohonono, mashuka, acacia, mashanga, and the dwarf custard-apple, grow abundantly, while a bright red bean, called the mosika, together with maize, is much cultivated. Iron is found and worked on the hill-sides, after a very homely fashion, while coal actually crops up out of the ground, and is picked out by the women, who use only a hoe.

The copper and brass ornaments are procured, in the way of trade, from the Portuguese of the Zambesi; but gold is plentiful and its value known, the women washing it out of the ground in quantities, sometimes even finding it in pure nuggets. All this seemed strongly to confirm the missionary's firm belief that in this neighbourhood was once found and exported gold, cedar, and other riches. Elephants were numerous in the forests, and the ivory was sold to the Portuguese. It was to a grand elephant hunt the head of the tribe had been called, and, with the exception of the brave and his escort of fifty warriors who had accompanied the white men, none but the women remained in the kraal.

A week passed by, and at its expiration the shouts of the men, and the shrill screams of the women, heralded the return of the head warrior Umhleswa, and told that the hunt had been a successful one.

Volume 1, Chapter X.

THE RUINED CITIES OF ZULU LAND.

The morning after the chief's arrival there was a great commotion in the kraal. Men ran to and fro, there was shouting and much talking, and at last, followed by his warriors, the chief Umhleswa came down from the council enclosure, and taking his way among the huts, halted at the entrance of that which had been assigned to the white men. Umhleswa found them seated under the tree which overshadowed their home, and, whatever he might think of them, his own appearance was in no way prepossessing. Under the middle height, his legs were curved, or bowed, his forehead low and retreating, the part of the head behind the ears being very massive. The ears themselves were enormous, and the mouth very large; the nose flattened, and the lips thick. He wore the usual set of small buttons let into the flesh, but they were of virgin gold; and a panther skin was attached by a golden clasp round the waist, falling like a Highland kilt. A number of small objects of glass, beads, and ivory hung down from his waist, making a rattle as he walked. Bound his ankles, wrists, and the fleshy part of the arm were circles of copper. He carried no arms, but held in his hand a stick, also of gold, about a foot long, and his teeth were filed, giving an appearance of savage ferocity to his repulsive face. The white men rose, and some additional skins being brought, the three chiefs, Umhleswa, the missionary, and the soldier, seated themselves, the warriors squatting in a circle around.