CHAPTER XXI
A VOICE FROM THE DEAD
Compton had found his father's book. When the woman gave it to himhe sat down for an hour turning over the leaves, closely filled withneatly written handwriting interspersed with many sketches. To himit was a message from the dead--a priceless treasure; and as he readand saw how valuable it was as a record of close and intelligentobservation in a new field, he was seized with an eagerness to beoff with it out of the wilderness. He hurried to the cave, but, ofcourse, there was no one there. Then, still carrying the pricelessbook, he ran on to the gorge, where the warriors whose task it wasto guard that part were gathering. Some of them were examining thebroken lengths of cotton, and drew his attention to them.
"It is medicine," he said briefly. "Have ye seen Ngonyama?"
They had not seen him since in the early morning one had noticed thegreat chief and the Spider enter the gorge.
"And it is not meet," they added, "that we should seek to find outwhere the chiefs had gone, since the place below was taboo."
"It is well," said Compton; and he returned to the cave to wait withas much patience as he could summon, under the impression that hisfriends had, of course, gone down to the pool in search of themissing boat.
The afternoon, however, passed quickly, for he was poring over theJournal, and it was almost dark when a step without attracted hisattention.
"I say," he shouted, "come and see."
But it was not Venning who entered, but the chiefs mother. Shelooked tired, and her short skirt was stained with mud and moss.
"Halloa, it's you, is it?"
She squatted before the fire with her eyes on the book. "Ye willmake medicine now, son of the wise man. Ye will teach our men how tobuild swift boats, and how to make the 'fire that kills."
"You are wet; you have been in the water."
"Oh! it is a little thing."
"I thought you were the great one, or the Spider. I have not seenthem since the morning."
"Maybe they have gone a journey. What says the medicine?"
"It says that until they return safe as when they went, it will notspeak," said Compton, with a chill suspicion growing in his mind.
She laughed. "Look again, son of my friend. Maybe they will notreturn except the things be done that must be done."
"What things?"
"I have said. The things that will make our people strong for thegoing out--the swift canoes and the shooting fire. That is my word."
"And this is my word. If any injury befall them, the medicine thatis here"--and he tapped the book--"will work against yon and yours."
He looked at her very sternly, attempting to carry the matter with ahigh hand, for he judged from her words that something had happenedto his friends.
"Wow! Are my people so few that a boy can talk to me in this way?"She snapped her fingers.
"And what stand would you and your people have made against the wildmen but for Ngonyama? What will they do when Hassan comes again, ifthe great one is not at hand to help?"
"Ohe! Little chief," she laughed, "you cannot frighten me withtales of Hassan; and think well over my word."
She went away down towards the new village that had been builtbeyond the river, and her voice rose in a chant as she went--a chantthat was taken up and thrown back by the women returning home fromthe gardens. Compton built up the fire, and then walked up to themouth of the gorge, restless and consumed with anxiety. Those wordsof the woman, "maybe they will not return," haunted him. They seemedto him ominous of danger. All night he patrolled up and down theledge, between the cave and the gorge, fearing they would not come,and yet expecting to hear their voices at any moment; and in themorning he was heavy-eyed from want of sleep. The night-guards fromthe gorge trotted by, their places having been relieved.
"Have ye seen Ngonyama and the Spider?"
"There is smoke," they said. "Maybe the white chiefs make thefire."
"Where?"
"Beyond the water that is taboo."
He hurried off with his glasses, and from the gorge saw smoke risingfar down the forest; and the sight gave him hope, for it might meanthat his friends had followed the river down from Deadman's Pool onthe trail of the missing boat. Bidding the men keep a good watch,and report any new development to him at once, he went back to theeave to breakfast and to renewed study of the journal. As he read,his attention became riveted on a series of sketches which laid barethe subterranean passages under the south-west portion of the cliff,between the gorge and the canon giving outlet to the river. As heread, too absorbed to think of anything else, he came upon thefollowing note:--
"If it chance that understanding eye should fall on these notes, letmy directions be carefully observed. No stranger--certainly nowhite man--would be permitted to leave the valley once he discoveredits existence, by setting foot within its encircling cliffs. Let himnot try to escape by the gorge on the south, for though apparentlyundefended, it is really guarded by a band of women who have theright to kill any person--not taboo--who passes through. Thesewomen, victims of a dark and degrading superstition, are recruitedfrom the village, and once they quit the valley they are never seen,for they live about the shores of the pool beneath the cliff and incaverns adjoining, which form the lower or basement rooms of aseries of stupendous vaults produced by volcanic agency. By nightthey prowl about the slopes above the pool; by day, some of themkeep watch over the passage through the gorge and through the canonfrom loopholes to which they have access from the lower vaults. Iknow, because I myself tried to escape by this passage, and onlyescaped owing to the vigilance of the chief woman in the valley, whoexercises control over the band, and who had her own purpose toachieve in saving my life. I was useful to her. When ultimately,after much labour, I discovered the only safe way out, I was, owingto repeated attacks of fever, too weak to avail myself of thediscovery. My hope is that my efforts may be of service to some one--if, unhappily, any should follow in my footsteps--who would bebetter prepared to face the dangers and the difficulties of theforest beyond. Listen, then, to these instructions; On the ledgeskirting the south cliff, and leading up to the gorge, there is acave, which may be recognized from the existence near it of a bathhewn out of the lava by human hands. That cave is the key to theunderground passage."
Compton looked up with shilling eyes. "The very place I am in," hemuttered.
"For many months it was my home--if I may so misuse a word socharged with bitterness to me. Not a day passed but my thoughts wentin sickness of spirit to my home, to my wife and little one; and itwas when I was thinking of them that I thought I heard them callingmy name from the cave. A sick man's fancy! But there had been asound, and on entering to the far end of the cavern, I heard itrepeated--a faint droning, such as would be produced by a shell heldto the ear. There was, too, a current of air, and, feeling in thedarkness, I found the crack through which it emerged. With a spear-head I easily broke the rock away, for it was a mere envelope.Thrusting the spear in, I felt there was an opening beyond. When Ihad satisfied myself that the passage extended for some distance, myfirst precaution was to find a slab of rock to fit the opening I hadmade."
Compton laid down the book, looked out to see that no one was near,and crept to the far end of the cave. Pressing with his hand, hesoon found the rock yield. Satisfied, he returned to the journalwith renewed eagerness.
"My first careful examination of the passage disclosed the welcomefact that it extended a great distance in a westerly direction, butwithout lights I saw it would be dangerous to attempt a thoroughinvestigation. Accordingly, I occupied myself for several days inmaking a supply of candles, using the barrels of my gun as a mould,and mixing beeswax with oil clarified from the fat of animals, suchas monkeys and coneys. Provided with two such candles, I began myexplorations underground, and after many failures discovered a wayof escape, which others may benefit by. The passage, in anuninterrupted course, dips under the gorge and enters the south-westcliff, which is completely honeycombed. After
dipping under thegorge, it branches in several directions, but care must be taken tofollow the extreme right-hand passage. This follows the outer shell,skirts what I have called the Hall of Winds, dips down through along tunnel, and emerges on the outer slope at a point near the spotwhere the river disappears. The passage is safe, but can only betaken provided a candle or torch is used. If these directions shouldcome under the notice of some unhappy traveller, let him accept myearnest wishes for success in his efforts to escape from a placewhich to me was first a haven of rest and then a hateful prison, andthere is a feeling I have that I have not written this in vain."
The son of the lonely Englishman who had written the foregoing insadness of spirit, but in hope for others, sat long staring beforehim with a lump in his throat.
"Not in vain, my father--not in vain did you labour," he murmured.Again he read over the directions, then very carefully he packed thejournal and strapped it on his back, to be with him wherever hewent. Noticing how the time had passed while he had been receivingthe message from the dead, he hurried to the gorge to see if therewere any signs of his friends, and his eyes went to the dark walls,and to the silent pool far below, with a feeling of intenserepugnance at the thought of the ghoulish women who lurked unseen,but seeing all.
"Have you seen Ngonyama?"
"The smoke ascends no longer, Inkose; but we have seen the signalanswered."
"How so?"
"Another smoke arose yet further off, and yet another, and beyondthat another, till the word of the fire-makers was passed back evento the wide waters."
"Then it was not Ngonyama who made the fire."
"It was made by the enemy, Inkose."
"Have you sent out spies?"
"Of what use, lion's cub? Muata, the black one, hangs on theirtrail, and when the time has come he will spring. Wow! They arefools to come up by that path."
He went back deep in thought, and made up his mind to see the wisewoman again. So he passed down into the valley, crossed the riverto the new village built on a small flat-topped hill, and found thechief's mother sitting before his hut.
"I want my brothers," he said at once.
"The valley is open--search for them. You are a chief; put the mento the search. Why come to me?"
"Because you only know."
"Haw! If they are not in the valley they are out of the valley, andonce they are out they have broken the law. Who am I that you shouldask, since the law is made by the men?"
"Maybe, mother, they are not in the valley or out of the valley."
She threw a startled look at Compton, which he was keen to notice;then, with an expression of puzzlement, she nodded her head.
"Your meaning is dark, lion's cub. See, the valley is kraaled inlike the goat-pen, and if the goats be not in the kraal they areoutside the kraal. As for Ngonyama, see where the women build hishut against his coming."
"I see," said Compton. "Perhaps he was sent for by the chief, andhas gone a journey, for the enemy are on the move."
"That is plainer to me," she said quickly. "It must be so, for thechief loves Ngonyama."
"Yes; that must be the reason. It lifts a load off my mind, mother."
"Ow aye I did not like to see your face clouded; and now you willmake medicine for me?"
"I will; bat there are a few things I require. I am young at thiswork, mother, and cannot do without all the aids."
"Oh ay, I know," and she nodded her head with a fierce look in hereyes. "The blood of a man, the heart of a kid, and the tongue of acrocodile."
"No, no; a calabash of fat and a little wax. Only that."
"Your medicine is not like mine," she said musingly; "but I have itin my mind now that the good white man used much fat in hismedicine."
She went into her hut, and returned presently with a calabash filledwith fat and a square of wax.
"And ye will build fast canoes?"
"We will do great things, mother," said Compton, taking the things."But it is not well that people should pry in upon one who is makingmedicine. He must have quiet."
"Wow! No one shall pass your house in the rocks, O wizard of mine."
He hurried up to the cave, passing the reed patch on his way to cutseveral stout stems, and began without delay his preparations formaking candles. While the fat and wax were melting in a couple of"billies," he cut down the canes into sections of about six incheseach, and buried them on end with the mouth up in soft ground nearthe bath, with a length of stout cord strung down the centre of eachtube, and secured by a cross-piece. When the stuff had melted, hefilled up the moulds, twelve in all, and left them to cool off. Thentaking a stout cane left over, he cut away one of the joints,leaving a socket, thus converting it into a very handy candle-stick.Next he made up a parcel of food and medicine, carefully oiled hisrifle, to protect it against the damp underground, and then went offup to the gorge to have a last look for his friends.
The warriors were buzzing about the barricade, evidently in a stateof great excitement, and Compton saw the cause of this in the personof a solitary man ascending the slope from the direction of thepool.
"It is the chief's runner," said the men as the man came plainlyinto view.
Up he came, breasting the steep ascent with a look behind atfrequent intervals as if he feared pursuit, and when he reached thewall, he drew a great breath of relief.
"Mawoh!" he grunted. "I saw the dead water heave, and there was alaugh from nowhere."
"What message?" asked one of the headmen.
"It is for Ngonyama," said the runner.
The headman fell back and looked at Compton, who then steppedforward.
"Give the message to me."
"Wow! This, then, is the chief's word. 'Say to Ngonyama, the greatwhite one, that the enemy will come against the valley up from thedead water. Ngonyama will let them advance until they are in thejaws of the rocks. Then will Muata, the black one, fall on the rearand eat them up.' So said the chief."
Compton tamed to the headmen. "Where are the white chiefs?"
"We do not know, Inkose," they said uneasily.
"Ye will take the orders of your chief yourselves then, for unlessmy brothers are restored in safety, I will not help you."
"Maybe," said a man in a whisper, "the wizards have taken them tothemselves to learn wisdom."
"Who are these wizards?" demanded Compton, sternly.
"Haw! Inkose, how shall we know?" But their eyes went fearfully tothe silent walls of the gorge.
"Who does know?"
"We know not, Inkose. These things are not for us."
"I know;" and Compton eyed them sternly. "It is a woman who is chiefin this place. Say to her the words of the chief, and bring me herreply."
They hesitated, muttering.
"Ye know the black one," said Dick, quietly. "He has asked forNgonyama. Let the woman produce Ngonyama or give her authority, lestthe black one turn his anger on you."
"The lion's cub says well," answered an old man. "I will go."
As he went off, Compton bade the indunas see to the defence, "For,"said he, "without the white men, you will have to fight hard foryour kraal." The indunas laughed as they gave their orders, sayingthat all they wished for was a good fight. Compton retired to hiscave, and it was not long before the chiefs mother herself came upwith her bodyguard of women, armed with bow and arrows.
"Ye sent for me, O great chief?" she cried, with a little mockinglaugh.
"You have heard the chiefs message?"
"And this is my answer," she replied, pointing to the women. "Wewill meet the enemy."
"And Ngonyama?"
"Ngonyama! I have heard that name too often. See, young one, thereis not room in a kraal for two strong bulls."
She nodded her head with a very hard look in her eyes.
Compton kept down his rising wrath at this ominous speech.
"Very well, mother," he said quietly. "You know best. I will now getabout my work, if ye order that I am left in silence."
"
I will see to that," she answered; "and see to it that you do all Ihave asked, lest you also go to those wizards you spoke of to themen."
She looked at him meaningly, and went on with her escort.
Compton watched them out of sight, then ran to his moulds. Takingout the canes, he split them down in turn, disclosing a dozencandles, roughly moulded, and very greasy, but he hoped suitable forhis venture. One he fixed in the socket of the torch, the others hepacked away carefully in an oilskin bag. Then slinging on hiscarbine, bandolier, haversack, and making them all secure bystrapping a belt over all, he crept through the opening at the farend of the cave, replaced the rock, and lit his candle. After muchspluttering and a great deal of smoke, the flame caught, and hestarted on his tour, breathing a fervent hope that it would lead himto his lost friends.