Part 1 (1/2)

Allan and the Holy Flower

by H Rider Haggard

CHAPTER I

BROTHER JOHN

I do not suppose that anyone who knows the name of Allan Quatermain would be likely to associate it with flowers, and especially with orchids Yet as it happens it was once my lot to take part in an orchid hunt of so remarkable a character that I think its details should not be lost At least I will set them down, and if in the after days anyone cares to publish them, well-he is at liberty to do so

It was in the year-oh! never er, that I went on a hunting expedition to the north of the Lientleman of the name of Scroope, Charles Scroope He had coland in search of sport At least, that was one of his reasons The other was a lady whoh that was not her naed to be married, and really attached to each other Unfortunately, however, they quarrelled violently about another gentlemen ho two that were promised to her fiance at a Hunt ball in Essex, where they all lived Explanations, or rather argument, followed Mr Scroope said that he would not tolerate such conduct Miss Manners replied that she would not be dictated to; she was her own mistress and ht so far as he was concerned She answered that she never wished to see his face again He declared with e to Africa to shoot elephants

What isfro any address As it transpired afterwards, long afterwards, had he waited till the post caed his plans But they were high-spirited young people, both of them, and played the fool after the fashi+on of those in love

Well, Charles Scroope turned up in Durban, which was but a poor place then, and there we met in the bar of the Royal Hotel

”If you want to kill big gaet, ”there's the man to show you how to do it-Hunter Quatermain; the best shot in Africa and one of the finest fellows, too”

I sat still, s It is aard to listen to oneself being praised, and I was always a shy man

Then after a whispered colloquy Mr Scroope was brought forward and introduced to me I bowed as nicely as I could and ranman with dark eyes and a rather romantic aspect (that was due to his love affair), but I came to the conclusion that I liked the cut of his jib When he spoke, that conclusion was affirreat deal in a voice; personally, I judge by it almost as much as by the face This voice was particularly pleasant and sy in the words by which it was, so to speak, introduced to me These were: ”How do you do, sir Will you have a split?”

I answered that I never drank spirits in the daytime, or at least not often, but that I should be pleased to take a small bottle of beer

When the beer was consuether to my little house on which is now called the Berea, the sast others, I received my friends, Curtis and Good, in after days, and there we dined Indeed, Charlie Scroope never left that house until we started on our shooting expedition

Now I must cut all this story short, since it is only incidentally that it has to do with the tale I a to tell Mr Scroope was a rich man and as he offered to pay all the expenses of the expedition while I was to take all the profit in the shape of ivory or anything else that ht accrue, of course I did not decline his proposal

Everything ith us on that trip until its unfortunate end We only killed two elephants, but of other gaoa Bay on our return that the accident happened

We were out one evening trying to shoot soht of a small buck It vanished round a little promontory of rock which projected fro in alarled round these rocks and perceived the buck standing about ten paces away (it was a bush-bok), when I heard a rustle a the bushes on the top of the rock not a dozen feet above : ”Look out, Quater?” I answered in an irritated tone, for the noise had made the buck run away

Then it occurred to in to shout like that for nothing; at any rate when his supper was concerned So I glanced up above and behind me To this ranite water-worn boulder, or rather several boulders, with ferns growing in their cracks of the maiden-hair tribe, most of them, but some had a silver sheen on the under side of their leaves On one of these leaves, bending it down, sat a large beetle with red wings and a black body engaged in rubbing its antennae with its front paws And above, just appearing over the top of the rock, was the head of an extremely fine leopard As I write to seeainst the arc of the quiet evening sky with the saliva dropping fro which I did perceive for a little while, since at that ers in South Africa-dropped upon my back and knockedthe buck and was angry at my appearance on the scene Doent, luckily for me, into a patch of mossy soil

”All up!” I said tothe moss, and orse, its hot breath upon my neck as it dropped its jaws to bite me in the head Then I heard the report of Scroope's rifle, followed by furious snarling from the leopard, which evidently had been hit Also it seemed to think that I had caused its injuries, for it seizedcoat of tough corduroy that I earing It began to shakethat Scroope only carried a light, single-barrelled rifle, and therefore could not fire again, I knew, or thought I knew, that my tireat, i chance became very vivid I res connected with my infancy For instance, I see with a little jointed gold-fish which she wore upon her watch-chain

After this I muttered a word or two of supplication, and, I think, lost consciousness If so, it can only have been for a few seconds Then ht The leopard and Scroope were fighting each other The leopard, standing on one hind leg, for the other was broken, see hunting knife into the brute's carcase They went down, Scroope underle and ca sound my body made as it left the ooze

Close by was my rifle, uninjured and at full cock as it had fallen from my hand I seized it, and in another second had shot the leopard through the head just as it was about to seize Scroope's throat

It fell stone dead on the top of him One quiver, one contraction of the claws (in poor Scroope's leg) and all was over There it lay as though it were asleep, and underneath was Scroope

The difficulty was to get it off hied this at last with the help of a thorn bough I found which some elephant had torn from a tree This I used as a lever There beneath lay Scroope, literally covered with blood, though whether his own or the leopard's I could not tell At first I thought that he was dead, but after I had poured some water over him from the little stream that trickled down the rock, he sat up and asked inconsequently: ”What am I now?”

”A hero,” I answered (I have always been proud of that repartee) Then, discouraging further conversation, I set to work to get him back to the camp, which fortunately was close at hand

When we had proceeded a couple of hundred yards, he still ht arm round my neck and my left arm round his ht was more than I could carry, I had to leave hiot him to the tents by aid of the Kaffirs and a blanket, and there made an examination He was scratched all over, but the only serious wounds were a bite through the ht thigh just where it joins the body, caused by a stroke of the leopard's claws I gave him a dose of laudanum to send him to sleep and dressed these hurts as best I could For three days he went on quite well Indeed, the wounds had begun to heal healthily when suddenly some kind of fever took his or claws

Oh! what a terrible as that which followed! He becas, and especially of Miss Margaret Manners I kept up his strength as well as was possible with soup areeaker and weaker Also the wounds in the thigh began to suppurate

The Kaffirs e had with us were of little use in such a case, so that all the nursing fell on , the leopard had donein those days Still the lack of rest told on me, since I dared not sleep for th ca when I was quite worn out There lay poor Scroope turning andin the little tent, and there I sat by his side, wondering whether he would live to see another dawn, or if he did, for how long I should be able to tend hithe pannikin tohand, help cae shape In front of our camp were two thorn trees, and fro full on hi towards me in a slow, purposeful fashi+on It was that of ahair hite, the face was comparatively youthful, save for the wrinkles round the our Tattered gar aardly upon his tall, thin frame On his feet were veld-schoen of untanned hide, on his back a battered tin case was strapped, and in his bony, nervous hand he clasped a long staff made of the black and white wood the natives call unzimbiti, on the top of which was fixed a butterfly net Behind him were some Kaffirs who carried cases on their heads

I knew him at once, since we had met before, especially on a certain occasion in Zululand, when he calmly appeared out of the ranks of a hostile native iest characters in all South Africa Evidently a gentleman in the true sense of the word, none knew his history (although I know it now, and a strange story it is), except that he was an American by birth, for in this matter at times his speech betrayed hie from his extraordinary skill, one who ery For the rest he had h where they came from was a mystery, and for many years past had wandered about South and Eastern Africa, collecting butterflies and flowers

By the natives, and I ht add by white people also, he was universally supposed to be mad This reputation, coupled with his medical skill, enabled hihtest fear of molestation, since the Kaffirs look upon the eetah,” a ludicrous corruption of the English word ”doctor,” whereas white folk called him indifferently ”Brother John,” ”Uncle Jonathan,” or ”Saint John” The second appellation he got from his extraordinary likeness (when cleaned up and nicely dressed) to the figure by which the great Aland is typified by John Bull The first and third arose in the well-known goodness of his character and a taste he was supposed to possess for living on locusts and wild honey, or their local equivalents Personally, however, he preferred to be addressed as ”Brother John”

Oh! who can tell the relief hich I saw hiel from heaven could scarcely have been more welcome As he ca that he liked it sweet, put in plenty of sugar

”How do you do, Brother John?” I said, proffering hi, Brother Allan,” he answered-in those days he affected a kind of old Roine it Then he took the coffee, put his long finger into it to test the teh it were a dose of -hunting?” I queried

He nodded ”That and flowers and observing hu around generally”

”Where from last?” I asked

”Those hills nearly twenty ht”

”Why?” I said, looking at hi me To be plain, you, Allan”

”Oh! you heard aboutMeant to strike out for the coast this ot your an, then stopped, and asking to see his watch, coh, they showed the sa,” I said slowly, ”but at 85 last night I did try to send a ,” and I jerked my thumb towards the tent ”Only it wasn't to you or any other e was expressed on, that's all Expressed and I guess registered as well”

I looked at Brother John and Brother John looked atwas too curious, that is, unless he lied But nobody had ever known him to lie He was a truthful person, painfully truthful at times And yet there are people who do not believe in prayer

”What is it?” he asked