Part 10 (1/2)

One can travel light on such a march, provided the wayfarer makes up his mind, and that rigidly, to take nothing along that is not strictly and absolutely necessary. To this rule the strangely a.s.sorted pair had adhered, so that the time taken to get under way was no longer than that required to saddle Blachland's horse.

Hlangulu's prediction was verified, for in less than half an hour the clouds had parted in all directions, revealing the depths of the blue-black vault all spangled with gus.h.i.+ng stars--and lo, a silver crescent moon flooded the sombre valleys and fantastic crags with her soft light. It was a strange and eerie march through that grim wilderness in the hush of the silent night--a silence, broken now and again by mysterious cries as of bird or beast--the effect heightened by the varying echo from cave or crag. An ant-bear, looking like a great bald pig in the magnifying moonlight, scuttled across their path. A strange variety of nightjar flitted overhead, looking something between a b.u.t.terfly and a paper kite; or a troop of baboons, startled suddenly from their feast of roots, would skip hurriedly out of the way, their dark, gnome-like shapes glancing through the long gra.s.s as they sought refuge among the granite crags, there to bark loud and excited defiance after the disturbers.

These, however, took no notice, intent only on getting forward. They were safe here from the one great object of their apprehension, their fellow-man--as yet: the point was to cover all the ground possible while such immunity was still theirs. The Matabele led the way in long wiry strides--the horseman following. As a matter of precaution, the horse's shoes had been removed; for the clink of a shod hoof travels far, at night, in uninhabited solitudes, or, for the matter of that, even by day.

During the long night march, Blachland's thoughts were busy, and they were mainly concerned with the events of the three or four days during which he had been making up his mind to this undertaking; with the parting with Hermia, and with the future. She had not accepted the position quietly, and, a rare thing with her, had treated him to rather a stormy scene.

He had only just returned after a long absence, she declared, and now was anxious to start off again. a.s.suredly he was tired of her--or was it that her suspicions were correct, and that he had a kraal of his own in Matabeleland, like that horrid old Pemberton and other traders? Ah well, if he was tired of her, there might be other people who were not perhaps. If he did not appreciate her, there might be other people who did.

”Meaning, for present purposes, Spence,” he had rejoined, but without heat. ”Well, you are old enough and experienced enough to know where your own interests lie, and so it is superfluous for me to remind you,”

he had added. And so they had parted with but scant affection; and it might well be, remembering the perilous nature of his present undertaking, never to behold each other again.

A short off-saddle, about midnight, relieved the march. At length, in the black hour succeeding the setting of the moon, Hlangulu called a halt.

”We must leave the horse here,” he said. ”We can hide him in yonder cleft until to-morrow night. It will not be safe to ride him any further, Isipau. Look!”

The other had already beheld that to which his attention was now directed. For a dull glow arose upon the night, and that at no great distance ahead: a glow as of fires. And, in fact, such it was; for it was the glow of the watch-fires of one of the armed pickets, guarding, day and night, the approaches to the sacred neighbourhood of the King's grave.

CHAPTER TEN.

UMZILICAZI'S GRAVE.

The huge granite pile loomed forth overhead, grim, frowning, indistinct.

Then, as the faint streak in the blackness of the eastern horizon banded into red width, the outlines of the great natural mausoleum stood forth clearer and clearer.

Blachland's pulses beat hard, as he stood gazing. At last he had reached the goal of his undertaking--at last he stood upon the forbidden ground. The uneasy consciousness that discovery meant Death--death, moreover, in some barbarous and lingering form--was hardly calculated to still his bounding pulses. He stood there alone. Hlangulu had come as near as he dared, and, with the minutest instructions as to the nearest and safest approach, had hidden to await his return.

How they had eluded the vigilance of the pickets our explorer hardly knew. He called to mind, however, a moment which, if not the most exciting moment of his life, at any rate brought him within as grim a handshaking proximity to certain death as he had ever yet attained.

For, at the said moment, Hlangulu had drawn him within a rock cleft--and that with a quick muscular movement which there was neither time nor opportunity to resist, but which, a second later, there was no inclination to, as he beheld--they both beheld--a body of Matabele warriors, fully armed, and seeming to rise out of nowhere, pa.s.s right over the very spot just occupied by themselves. He could see the markings of the hide s.h.i.+elds, could even make out the whites of rolling eyeb.a.l.l.s in the starlight, as the savages flitted by and were gone.

But would they return? Had the sound of strange footsteps reached their ears, and started them in search? a.s.suredly, if Hilary Blachland stood in need of a new and intense excitement, he had got it now. But a barely breathed inquiry met for some time with no response from his guide, who at length rose up and declared that they must push on.

And now here he stood alone. Before him two ma.s.sive granite faces arose, leaning forward, as it were, until their overhanging brows nearly met the topmost boughs of a solitary _Kafferboen_ which grew out of the ground fronting the entrance at a distance of some yards. Over the angle formed by these an immense boulder was balanced, in such wise as to form a huge natural porch; but in continuation of the angle was a deft, a tall narrow deft, the entrance to which was roughly built up with stones. This, then, was the King's grave.

The dawn was rapidly lightening. There was no time to lose. He must enter at once, and there remain throughout the entire day. Only in the darkness could he enter, only in the darkness could he leave it.

As he climbed up on the embankment of stones, one, loosened by his tread, dislodged another. Heavens! what a clatter they made, or seemed to make, in the dead stillness. Then he set his teeth hard, stifling a groan. The falling stone had struck his ankle, bruising it sharply and causing intense pain. For a moment he paused. Could he climb any further? It seemed to have lamed him. Then somehow there came back to him old Pemberton's words: ”There's no luck meddling with such places-- no, none.” Well, there seemed something in it, and if his ill-luck began here what was awaiting him when he should have effected his purpose? But he had professed himself above such puerile superst.i.tions, and now was the time to make good his professions. Besides, it was too late to draw back. If he were not under concealment within a moment or so, his peril would be of a more real and material order. So, summoning all his coolness and resolution, exercising the greatest care, he climbed over the remaining stones and dropped down within the cleft.

And now he forgot the pain of his contused ankle, as, full of interest he stood within this wonderful tomb. But for a very slight trend the cleft ran inward straight to a depth of some forty or fifty feet, its sides, straight and smooth, rising to nearly the same height; and at the further end, which narrowed somewhat, ere terminating abruptly in the meeting of the two t.i.tanic boulders which caused it, he could make out something which looked like a heap, an indefinable heap, of old clothes.

Blachland paused. Here, then, was the object of his exploration. Here, then, lay the mouldering remains of the dead King, and here lay the buried gold. Drawing his flask from his pocket, he took a nip to steady his nerves before beginning his search. Before beginning it, however, some impulse moved him to glance forth once more upon the outside world.

The sun had not yet risen, but the land lay revealed in the pearly dawn.

There was the rough, long, boulder-strewn ridge, continuing away from this great natural tumulus which dominated it. Away over the valley, the bushy outline of the Intaba Inyoka stood humped against the suffusing sky; but what drew and held his gaze was a kind of natural platform, immediately below, part rock, part soil. This, however, lay black amid the surrounding green--black as though through the action of fire; but its blackness was strangely relieved, chequered, by patches of white. He recognised it for the spot described by Sybrandt and also by Hlangulu--the place where cattle were sacrificed at intervals to the shades of the departed King.

Something else caught his eye, something moving overhead. Heavens! the great boulder, overhanging like a penthouse, was falling--falling over!

In a moment he would be shut in, buried alive in this ghastly tomb.

Appalled, he gazed upwards, his eyes straining on it, and then he could have laughed aloud, for the solution was simple. A light breeze had sprung and up, the topmost boughs of the _Kafferboen_, swaying to its movement, were meeting the boulder, then swinging away again, producing just that curious and eerie effect to one in a state of nervous tension.