CHAPTER XXXIV
THE AVENGER OF BLOOD
For a moment the two men stood looking at each other, yes, the shedderof blood and the avenger of blood stood quite still and silent, andlooked each other in the eyes, as though a spell had fallen upon themstriking them into stone. It was the voice of Sihamba that broke thespell, and it issued from her parched throat with a sound like the soundof a death-rattle.
"Ah! devil and torturer," it said, "did I not tell you that doom was athand? Welcome, Ralph Kenzie, husband of Swallow."
Then with a roar like that of a wounded beast, Ralph sprang forward, inhis hand the uplifted spear. For one instant Swart Piet hesitated, butat the words of Sihamba a sudden terror had taken hold of him and hedared not wait. Like a startled buck he turned and fled up the mountain,but as he passed her he struck downwards with the knife he held,stabbing Sihamba in the body.
Once also he looked round for help, but there was none, for duringthe long torment of Sihamba all the black villains who served him hadslipped away, fearing lest others should secure their share of thestolen cattle. Then he sped on up the pass and never did a man runmore swiftly. But after him came one who was swifter than he, thelight-footed, long-limbed Englishman with rage in his heart, and anawful fire of vengeance blazing in his eyes.
Up the pass they ran, leaping over stones and dead cattle till at lengththey reached the tableland at the top. Here once again Van Vooren pausedfor an instant, for he bethought him that, perhaps, he might hold themouth of the cleft against his pursuer. But his wicked heart was toofull of fear to let him stay, so at full speed he set forward across theplain, heading for that chair rock where still sat the whitened corpse,for there he thought he could defend himself. Ralph followed himsomewhat more slowly, for of a sudden he had grown cold and cunning,and, knowing that his foe could not escape him, he desired to save hisbreath for the last struggle.
For six hundred yards or more they ran thus, and when Van Voorenbegan to climb the pedestal of rock Ralph was fifty paces behind him.Presently he also reached the pedestal and paused to look. Already SwartPiet was standing by the stone chair, but it was not at him that helooked, but rather at the figure which was tied in the chair that he nowsaw for the first time. That figure no longer sat upright, draped in itswhite fur cloak, for it had been disturbed, as I shall tell presently,and the cloak was half torn from it. Now it hung over the arm of thechair, the ghastly white face looking down towards Ralph and beneath itthe bare black breast.
Ralph stared, wondering what this might mean. Then the answer to theriddle flashed into his mind, and he laughed aloud, for here he sawthe handiwork of Sihamba. Yes, that grisly shape told him that his lovestill lived and that it was to win the secret of her whereabouts thatthe devil above him had practised torment upon the little doctoress.
Ralph laughed aloud and began to climb the pinnacle. He might havewaited till Jan, who was struggling up the pass after them, arrived withhis gun, but he would not wait. He had no fear of the man above and hewas certain of the issue of the fray, for he knew that God is just. Asfor that man above, he grinned and gibbered in his disappointed rage andthe agony of his dread; yes, he stood there by the painted corpse andgibbered like an ape.
"Your evil doing has not prospered over much, Piet Van Vooren," calledRalph, "and presently when you are dead you will taste the fruits of it.Suzanne shall be mine till the end as she was mine from the beginning,but look upon the Death-wife that your wickedness has won," and hepointed at the body with his spear.
Black Piet made no answer, nor did Ralph speak any more, for he must sethimself to finish his task. The Boer took a heavy stone and threw itat him, but it missed him and he could find no more. Then gripping thewrist of the corpse in his left hand to steady himself upon that giddyplace, he leant forward and prepared to stab Ralph with the knife ashe set foot upon the platform. Ralph saw his plan, and stopping in hisclimb, he took off his coat and wound it round his left arm as a shield.Then he came on slowly, holding the broad spear in front of him. At thelast he made a rush and reached the flat space of rock. Piet stabbedat him, but the strength of the thrust lost itself in the folds of thecoat.
Now who can say what happened. Round and round the rock chair theyswung, Van Vooren still holding fast to the arm of the dead woman whowas lashed in it. Yes, even from where I stood five hundred feet below Icould see the flash of spear and knife as they struck and struck again.
At length a blow went home; the Zulu assegai sank deep into Van Vooren'schest and he hung backwards over the edge of the abyss, supported onlyby his grip of the dead arm--from below it looked as though he weredrawing the corpse to him against its will. Yes, he hung back andgroaned aloud. Ralph looked at him and laughed again, since though hewas gentle-hearted, for this man he had no pity. He laughed, and crying"That curse of God you mocked at falls at last," with a sudden stroke hedrew the sharp edge of the spear across the lashing that held the bodyto the seat.
The rimpi parted, and with a swift and awful rush, like that of aswooping bird, the dead woman and the living man plunged headlong intospace. One dreadful yell echoed down the pitiless precipices, followedpresently by a soft thudding sound, and there, lodged upon a flat rockhundreds of feet beneath, lay what had been Piet Van Vooren, though,indeed, none could have told that it was he.
Thus ended the life of this man, this servant of the devil upon earth,and even now, after all these years, I can find but one excuse for him,that the excess of his own wickedness had made him drunk and mad. Yes,I believe that he who was always near to it, went quite mad when Ralphstruck him with the whip after the fight by the sheep kraal, mad withhate of Ralph and love of Suzanne. Also his father was wicked beforehim, and he had Kaffir blood in his veins. Ah! for how much must ourblood be called upon to answer, and how good is that man who can conquerthe natural promptings of his blood!