'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

  THE END OF THE WITCH-DOCTRESS.

  To convey anything like an adequate idea of what followed is well-nighimpossible. The stunning, deafening roar of the volley in that narrowspace was as though the very earth had exploded from its foundations.Through it came the shivering crash of glass, as Hlangani's lantern fellinto the pit, but whether its owner followed it or not could not bedetermined through the overpowering din. Still holding the lantern, thehideous witch-doctress was seen through the sulphurous smoke, standingthere as one turned to stone--then like lightning, a dark, lithe bodysprang through the spectators and with a growl like that of a wild beastleaped upon the bewildered Ngcenika. There was the gleam of an assegaiin the air--then darkness and the shatter of glass. The lantern fellfrom the sorceress' hand.

  "Turn on the light, Milne; quick!" cried the other two.

  "I'm trying to, but the infernal thing won't work. The slide's jammed--Oh!"

  For he was swept off his feet. Two heavy bodies rolled over him--striving, cursing, struggling, stabbing--then half stumbled, half rolledaway into the gloom beyond.

  The others bethought them of their candles, which, up till now, had beenkept unused. Quickly two of them were produced and lighted.

  The din of the scuffle seemed to be receding further and further; nor inthe faint and flickering impression cast upon the cavernous gloom by thelight of the candles could anything be seen of the combatants. But thatthe scuffle was a hard and fierce one was evident from the sounds.

  Just then Eustace succeeded in opening the lantern slide, and now theywere able to advance boldly in the strong disk of light. The latterrevealed the object of their search.

  Rolling over and over each other were two dark bodies, one nowuppermost, now the other. Both seemed equally matched; even if in pointof sheer physical strength the advantage did not lie slightly with thewitch-doctress, for Josane, though wiry and active, was a good dealolder than he looked. Each firmly gripped the other's right wrist, forthe purpose of preventing the use of the broad-bladed, murderous assegaiwith which the right hand of each was armed. Victory would lie withwhoever could hold out the longest.

  As soon as the light fell upon the two struggling bodies, thewitch-doctress threw all her energies into afresh and violent effort.She seemed to divine that the new arrivals would refrain from shootingat her for fear of injuring Josane. So she redoubled her struggles andkicked and bit and tore like one possessed.

  "Keep her in that position a moment, Josane," sung out Hoste. "I'll puta hunk of lead through the devil's carcase. There--so!"

  But it was not to be. With a supreme effort she wrenched her wrist freefrom her opponent's grasp, and turning with the rapidity of a cat,leaped out of sight in the darkness. But a moment later she stumbledover a boulder and sprawled headlong. Before she could rise her pursuerwas upon her and had stabbed her twice through the body with hisassegai.

  "Ha! Spawn of a Fingo dog!" cried Josane, his voice assuming a fierce,throaty growl in the delirious satiety of his vengeance. "I am Josane--whom thou wouldst have thrown to the serpents, as thou didst this whiteman--ha! whom thou wouldst have given alive to feed the black ants, asthou didst Vudana, my kinsman. Ha! I am Josane, who was eaten up atthy accursed bidding. Ha! But I lived for revenge and it has come.Ha! How does this feel?--and this?--and this?"

  With each ejaculation "ha!" he had plunged his assegai into the writhingbody of the prostrate witch-doctress. To the white men his aspect wasthat of a fiend--standing there in the cavernous gloom, his eyes rollingin frenzy--literally digging with his spear into the body of hisvanquished enemy, out of which the red blood was squirting in a dozengreat jets. Not until the corpse had entirely ceased to move did hecease his furious stabs.

  "The hell-hag is dead!" he cried, as he at length turned to leave. "Thehell-hag is dead," he repeated, turning the words into a fierce chant ofexultation. "The hell-hag bleeds, and my revenge is sweet. Ha!Revenge is brighter than the sun in the heavens, for it is red, bloodred. Ha! Mine enemy is dead!"

  By this time they had returned to the brink of the pit. But there wasno sign of Hlangani. Something like dismay was on every face. Thefragments of his shattered lantern lay strewn about at the bottom of thehole, but of the savage himself there was no sign. It was marvellous.All three men were first-rate shots. It was impossible that any one ofthem could have missed him at that distance, let alone all three. Howcould he have got away with three bullets in his body?

  Cautiously they hunted everywhere with increasing anxiety, but nothingoccurred to reward their search. The latter led them almost back to thegreat rock-chamber where the serpents swarmed. Still no sign ofHlangani.

  This was serious in the extreme. They would have their hands fullenough with the wretched maniac, even if they succeeded in bringing himaway at all; and the idea that the fierce Gcaleka, desperately woundedperhaps, might be lying in wait, in some awkward place, ready to fallupon them with all the reckless, despairing ferocity of a corneredleopard, was anything but encouraging. Or, what if he had escapedaltogether, and were to bring back a swarm of his countrymen to cut offtheir retreat.

  "I tell you what it is," said Hoste. "The sooner we get this poor chapout, and clear out ourselves, the better."

  This was true enough; but how to act upon it was another thing.

  Several candles were lighted and stuck about on the rocks, making theblack, gloomy cavern a trifle less sepulchral. Then they advanced tothe pit's brink. The lunatic, crouched on the ground gnawing a bone,stared stupidly at them.

  "Don't you know me, Tom?" said Eustace, speaking quietly. "We are cometo get you away from here, old chap. You know me? Come now!"

  But the poor wretch gave no sign of intelligence, as he went on munchinghis revolting food. Several times they tried him, each in differentways, but always without success. It was pitiable.

  "We shall have to get him out by force," said Shelton. "But how thedeuce we are going to do it beats me."

  "We might lasso him with a _reim_, and haul him up that way," suggestedHoste.

  "I had thought of that," said Eustace. "First of all, though, I'm goingto have another try at the _suaviter in modo_. He may recognise me--nearer."

  "Nearer? What? How? You are never going down there!" cried Shelton.

  "That's just what I am going to do. Where's that long _reim_, Josane?"

  This was the long, stout rawhide rope they had brought with them in caseit might be wanted for climbing purposes. Quickly Eustace had made arunning noose in it.

  "I hope you're in good hard form, Milne," said Shelton gravely. "Thepoor chap may try and tear you to pieces. I wouldn't risk it, if I wereyou."

  "And the snakes?" put in Hoste. "What about the snakes?"

  "I shall have to chance them," returned Eustace, having a shrewdsuspicion that the reptiles had been rendered harmless by the extractionof their fangs, and were, in fact, kept there by the witch-doctress inorder to lend additional horror to this _inferno_, whither she consignedher victims. Even then the act of descending into that noisome pit,with the almost certainty of a hand-to-hand struggle with a raginglunatic of enormous strength, was an ordeal calculated to daunt thestoutest of hearts. Certain it is that neither of the other two wouldhave cared to undertake it. More than ever, then, did they endeavour todissuade him.

  "This is my idea," he said. "I must try and get him round against thisside of the hole. Then, while I hold his attention, Josane must drophis blanket over his head. Then I'll fling the noose round him, and youmust all man the _reim_, and haul him up like a sack. Only it must bedone sharp. Directly I sing out `_Trek_,' you must haul away for dearlife."

  "But how about yourself, old chap?"

  "Never mind about me. I can wait down there until you're ready for me.But when you have got him up here you must tie him up as tight as a log,and sharp, too. Now, Josane, is your blanket ready?"

  The old Kafir, who had been knotti
ng a small stone into each corner sothat the thing should fall quickly, answered in the affirmative. In asecond the _reim_ was dropped over the side, and Eustace, sliding down,stood at the bottom of the pit.

  The indescribably fearful effluvium fairly choked him. He felt dizzyand faint. The lunatic, still crouching at the other side, made noaggressive movement, merely staring with lack-lustre eyes at the newarrival. Keeping his eye upon him, Eustace took advantage of thiswelcome truce to feel for his flask and counteract his fast overpoweringnausea with a timely pull.

  "Tom," he said, in a most persuasive tone, approaching the wretchedbeing. "Tom--you know me, don't you?"

  Then an awful change came into the maniac's countenance. His eyesglared through the tangle of his matted hair; the great bushy beardbegan to bristle and quiver with rage. He rose to his feet and, openinghis mouth, emitted that same horrible howl. Those above held theirbreath.

  Well for Eustace was it that he never quailed. Standing there in themiddle of the pit--at the mercy of this furious lunatic--he moved not amuscle. But his eyes held those of the demoniac with a piercing andsteady gaze.

  The crisis was past. Whimpering like a child, the wretched creaturesank to the ground, again covering his face with his hands.

  This was good enough as a first triumph, but the maniac had to be coaxedround to the other side of the hole. Eustace dared not remove hisglance, even for the fraction of a second. His foot struck againstsomething, which yielded suddenly and started away hissing. His pulsesstood still with horror, yet he knew better than to remove his eyes fromhis unhappy kinsman.

  "Come, Tom," he said coaxingly, advancing a couple of steps. "Get up,man, and go and sit over there."

  With an affrighted cry, the other edged away round the wall of hisprison, bringing himself much nearer the point where it was intended heshould be brought. He cowered, with face averted, moaning like ananimal in pain. Not to overdo the thing, Eustace waited a moment, thenadvanced a step or two nearer. It had the desired effect. The madmanshuffled away as before. He must be in the right place now. StillEustace dared not look up.

  "He's all right now, if you're ready," whispered a voice from above.

  "Ready!" was the quick reply.

  Something dropped. The madman's head and shoulders disappeared underthe voluminous folds of old Josane's red blanket. Quick as lightningEustace had sprung to his side and whipped the running noose round him.

  "_Trek_!" he cried, with an energy sufficient to start a dozen spans ofoxen.

  The body of Tom Carhayes swung into the air. Kicking, struggling,howling, he disappeared over the brink above. Eustace, alone at thebottom of the pit, could hear the sounds of a furious scuffle--sounds,too, which seemed to be receding as though into distance. What did itall mean? They seemed a long time securing the maniac.

  Then, as he looked around this horrible dungeon, at the crawling shapesof the serpents gliding hither and thither, hissing with rage over theirlate disturbance, as he breathed the unspeakably noisome atmosphere, herealised his own utter helplessness. What if anything untoward shouldoccur to prevent his comrades from rescuing him? Life was full ofsurprises. They might be attacked by a party of Kafirs, brought backthere by the missing Hlangani, for instance. What if he had merelyexchanged places with his unfortunate kinsman and were to be left therein the darkness and horror? How long would he be able to keep hisreason? Hardly longer than the other, he feared. And the perspirationstreamed from every pore, as he began to realise what the miserablemaniac had undergone.

  A silence had succeeded to the tumult above. What did it mean? Everysecond seemed an hour. Then, with a start of unspeakable relief, heheard Hoste's voice above.

  "Ready to come up, old chap?"

  "Very much so. Why have you taken so long?" he asked anxiously.

  "We had to tie up poor Tom twice, you know; first with the big _reim_,then with others. Then we had to undo the big _reim_ again. Here itis," chucking it over.

  Eustace slipped the noose under his armpits, and, having given the wordto haul away, a very few moments saw him among them all again. The madman was securely bound and even gagged, only his feet being loosenedsufficiently to enable him to take short steps.

  So they started on their return track, longing with a greater longingthan words can tell, to breathe the open air, to behold the light of dayagain.

  To their astonishment the poor lunatic became quite tractable. As longas Eustace talked to him, he was quiet enough and walked among the restas directed. One more repellent ordeal had to be gone through--theserpents' den, to wit. This they had now almost reached.

  Suddenly a warning cry went up from Josane, who recoiled a step.

  "_Au! Kangela_!" ["Look there!"]

  A face was peering at them from over a rock slab a few feet overhead. Ablack face, with glazing eyes and half-parted lips, and such a scowl ofhate upon the distorted features, in the darkness, as was perfectlydevilish. Quickly every weapon was aimed at the head and as quicklylowered. For they realised that it was the head of a dead man.

  "Why, it's Hlangani! Let's see where we pinked him," said Shelton,climbing up to the ledge, followed by Hoste. "By Jove! he's pluggedhimself where we plugged him," he went on. "That accounts for hisleaving no blood spoor."

  He had. There were two great holes in the dead man's ribs, where thebullets had entered. Both wounds were mortal. But, with the desperateendurance of his race, the stricken warrior had rent off fragments ofhis blanket and _had deliberately plugged the gaping orifices_. Then,crawling away, the fierce savage had sought out a position where hemight lurk in ambush, and had found it, too. Here he lay, a broadassegai still grasped in his hand, waiting to strike one fell and fatalblow at his slayers ere death should come upon him. But death hadovertaken him too quickly; and luckily, indeed, for the objects of hisenmity that it had.

  "Why, how's this?" cried Shelton in amazement. "I could have sworn Ihit him, and yet there are only two bullet holes!"

  "So could I," said Hoste emphatically. "Sure there are only two?"

  "Dead certain," replied the other, after a second investigation.

  "I think I can solve the mystery," cut in Eustace quietly. "You bothhit, all right. The fact is, I never fired."

  "Never fired!" they echoed. "And why the deuce not?"

  "Well, you see, this very Hlangani saved my life. I might have been putdown there with poor Tom, but for him. Whatever he had done I couldn'tbring myself to `draw' on a fellow who had done that much for me."

  There was something in that, yet Eustace thought he detected a curiouslook pass between his two friends. But it mattered nothing.

  Leaving the body of the dead Gcaleka, the two climbed down from theledge again. Further surprise was in store for them. Josane haddisappeared.

  "He'll be back directly," said Eustace. "He said he had forgottensomething."

  Whether it was that the sight of the dead warrior's body had inspired inhim one of those unreasoning and unaccountable outbreaks of savagery towhich all barbarian natures are more or less suddenly liable, or whetherhe had misgivings on his own account as to the completeness of hisvengeance, is uncertain. But rapidly muttering: "_Au_! Ixeshane! Ihave not drunk enough blood. Wait here until I return," he had seizedhis assegai and disappeared in the direction of the pit again. Thoseunder his guidance had no alternative but to await his return, with whatpatience they might.

  Meanwhile Josane was speeding along the gloomy tunnel, eagerly,fiercely, like a retriever on the track of a wounded partridge. Hishead was bent forward and his hand still grasped the broad assegai,clotted with the blood of the witch-doctress. Humming a low, ferocioussong of vengeance, he gained the brink of the now empty pit. Seizingone of the lighted candles, which still burned--no one having thought itworth while to put them out--he turned his steps into the lateralgallery. A fiendish chuckle escaped him. He stopped short, threw thelight in front of him, then held it over his head and looked
again.Again he chuckled.

  "_Au_!" he cried, "there is more revenge, more blood. I thirst for moreblood. Ha! The witch is not dead yet. Where art thou, Ngcenika, spawnof a she-Fingo dog? Where art thou, that my broad _umkonto_ may drinkagain of thy foul blood? Lo!"

  The last ejaculation escaped him in a quick gasp. Just outside thecircle of light he beheld a shadowy object, which seemed to move. Itwas the form of the wretched witch-doctress. He gathered himselftogether like a tiger on the spring.

  "Ho! Ngcenika," he cried, in a tone of exultation mingled withsuppressed fury. "Thou art not dead yet--toad--carrion bird!"

  He was standing over the inanimate form, his assegai uplifted in hisright hand, in his left the dim and sputtering candle. He made a feintto plunge it into her body, then as rapidly withdrew it.

  "Ha! I have a better plan. Thou shalt take Umlilwane's place."

  He stuck his candle on a projecting slab of rock, then bending down helaid hold of the witch-doctress by the feet and began to drag her alongthe ground. She was massive in her proportions, and he did not makerapid headway; the more so that the wretched creature began to struggle,though feebly, for she had lost an enormous quantity of blood, andindeed but for the endurance of her race, which dies as hard as itlives, life would have been extinct in her long ago. It was a horriblescene. The almost nude body of the hag was one mass of blood, which,coagulated over a dozen ghastly wounds, now began to well forth afresh;the muscular, half-bent form of the grim old warrior, glistening withperspiration, as with the blaze of unsatiated revenge burning in hiseyes he dragged her along that grisly cavern floor. Tugging, hauling,perspiring, growling, he at length reached the brow of the pit with hisghastly freight. Then pausing a moment, with a devilish grin on hisface, to contemplate the object of his deadly rancour, he pushed thebody over. A dull thud and a smothered groan told that it had reachedthe bottom.

  "_Hau_! hell cat--toad's spawn!" he cried. "How do you feel down there?Where is the great witch-doctress of the Gcaleka nation now? Where isSarili's great councillor of the Spirit-world now? With those whom herwizard arts destroyed. Men, brave fighting men all, were they--what arethey now? Bones, skulls, among which the serpents crawl in and out,"and as if to emphasise his words, a hissing went forth from the reptilesdisturbed by this new invasion of their prison house. "Ha, ha, ha!" helaughed. "Wise witch-doctress, thou canst `smell out' their spiritsonce more in the darkness before thou diest. Thou art a great magician,but the magic of the white men--the magic of Ixeshane--is greater thanthine, and it has delivered thee into my hand.

  "Hlangani, the valiant--the fighting chief of the Ama Gcaleka--theherald of Sarili--is dead. _Hau_!" Then raising his voice to a hightaunting pitch, he cried, "where is Maqwela, the warrior who struck theAmanglezi in three wars? His skull is beside thee--talk to it. Whereis Mpunhla, erstwhile my friend? He, too, was condemned to `The Home ofthe Serpents' by thee. He, too, is beside thee. Where is Vudana, mykinsman? The black ants have picked his bones. This, too, was thywork, and I, Josane, would be even as they, but that I have beenreserved to deal out vengeance to their slayer! And now when Sarili--when the _amapakati_ of the house of Gcaleka call for their wisewitch-doctress, they will call long and loud but will get no answer, for`The Home of the Serpents' yields not up its secrets. Fare thee well,Ngcenika; rest peacefully. My vengeance is complete. _Hlala-gahle_!"

  The weird flickering light of the dying candles danced on the figure ofthe savage standing there on the brink of that horrible hell-pit, gibingat his once terrible but now vanquished foe. Verily there was anappropriateness, a real poetic justice in the fate which had overwhelmedthis female fiend. Many a man had she doomed to this awful, thisunspeakably horrible fate, through the dictates of revenge, of intrigue,or of sheer devilish, gratuitous savagery. They had languished anddied--some in raving mania--here in black darkness and amid horrorsunspeakable. Now the same fate had overtaken herself.

  Josane paused. The groans of his victim were becoming fainter andfainter.

  "_Hau_! It is music to my ears," he muttered. Then, turning, hedeliberately blew out all the lights save the one that he carried, andonce more humming his fierce improvised song of vengeance, he sped awaythrough the gloom to rejoin his white companions, leaving this horriblepit of Tophet to the grisly occupancy of its hissing, crawling serpentsand its new but fast dying human denizen.