A Goddess of Africa

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 17, Issue 20, 13 March 1903, Page 7

A Goddess of Africa

ST. QEO RATHBORNE

CHATTEK XXL—(Continued.)

Hastings’ intentions were all right, but ho did not have occasion to use his firearm.

The girl suddenly turned and pointed directly at the magician, who had even drawn back his arm as if to make the cast.

Rex caught his breath, but Hassaje caught something more, for a sputtering fiery cotton ball of intensest scarlet line shot out of the little tube she held—r-its last stroke as it proved —and struck him fairly between the eyes, as though directed by a sharpshooter, it was a beautiful sight.

The witch-doctor’s desperate valor was not proof against such an onset.

He gave a scream that would have shamed a terrified elephant, and forgetting all about his desire to regain his old-time supremacy, thought only of escape. When Rex saw him scrambling over the brink, while still covering the squat figure he refrained from firing. It was just as well, since the magician’s one idea was to put a little space between his precious body and the spouting fire-god. He fairly tumbled over the edge, and Rex could henr him rolling down the steep, now on his head and anon on his buck, shrieking imprecations and incantations in the Zambodi tongue as only a sadly demoralized priest would be capable of doing. At all events the evil machinations of the desperate sorcerer had been brought to naught, and for the present at least the refuge of the fair goddess remained sacred. CHAPTER XXII. MAID MIRIAM. Gradually the sounds of excitement died away. The black warriors, when their lovely goddess had vanished, lost no time in sneaking down the hillside, as though afraid to remain longer near such sacred ground. Rut they did not. return to the kraal. Rex could see the glow of their torches through the trees, and now and kiien a pull of air from that quarter would bring to his ears the sound of a high pitched voice which he knew belonged to the demoralized charlatan. Hassaje was not yet ready to give up the fight, while an arrow remained in his quiver or his scheming mind could plot new designs.

The girl had discovered Hastings’ presence near by, and seemed uflectod by it, as though stie could understand what motive had influenced him to thus issue forth. Perhaps she had also known of his design upon the life of the necromancer, for he still held his-' weapon in his hand when, garbed again in her sombre robe, she came to his side.

Again they were in the little grotto and the quaint lamp threw its light around, Rex had been greatly impressed by the charming simplicity of his companion; who, being free from the conventionalities which continued intercourse and the restraints of civilization throw upon the sex, spoke so frankly of her past life and the longing she entertained for the future that he readily entered into the subject with a zest. Gradually too ho told her of his friend and aroused her deepest curiosity when he spoke of the locket lord Bruno wore, containing the picture that looked like her.

"You spoke of him as your enemy —what reason have you for believing that?" lie asked, determined to know more, for the Knglishman was very dear to his heart, and ho could not. believe such a thing could be unless there was a gigantic misunderstanding somewhere. "Ah! that I cannot explain. I only know that I have heard my father speak the name in his sleep many times, and always with bitterness, as though his sufferings had come from such a source. Gradually I came to believe some one named Lord Bruno had wronged him, and I tried to hale the name. That was why I shuddered when you mentioned it. I am unable lo Kay more, because all his papers connected with the past ho destroyed."

"Does it not strike you there was something like guilt about that act —might it not be possible that it was he who had done the wrong to my Bruno or his father? Men hate those they have injured—there is no hate that is more blighting. Perhaps his bitterness came from that source," he ventured.

"It may even be so. Surely, he would have told me something, unless ho hod reason to be ashamed of it,” she admitted, as though Rex stirred up thoughts that had once troubled her, now long since dormabt.

"Do you even know positively that he was your father?” ho asked, bold-

Startled by the question she allowed her eyes to seek his. “Oh! why do you ask me that?"

“The same doubt has arisen in your mind at some time?” lie continued, * following up the advantage gained, I with Uio persistence of a lawyer. I “I cannot deny it. He was always kind to me, and yet there were J times when something seemed to tell j me he did not love me as a father | should his child. It is shrouded in mystery. 1 do not even know why | he came among these savage tribes, j burying himself from all his kind.” "But you shall soon know, for I 1 am sure Bruno can tell all. Even at \ the end he maintained the same aw- j ful silence with regard to the past?" ) "Yes, because as you know ho j died suddenly. A tree fell upon him . during a terrible tornado. They I brought him home to die. I nursed | him tenderly, but he had only one lucid moment before death claimed him. Then he drew my head down and tried to tell me something but it was too late." i "You see, my speculation may not! be such a wild one after all; but this is no time to be indulging in confi- ! deuces. Our situation is desperate while that old rogue lives to stir up the heathen, and it would bo well ! if we talked of escape. Would you mind telling mo yout name—since wo*

, are to be friends and companions it 1 would be better if I know how to address you, and I have already given you mine." i "He always called me Maid Mar--1 ian," was the simple response. Rex repeated it strangely enough that had always been a favorite of his. Once he had known a ; little sister whose name was Marian, but death had claimed her as a shining mark, and she remained only a i precious memory in the minds 'of j those to whom she had been attach- ! ed on earth. j At the same time he thought how ; strange and appropriate that his favi orite name should belong to this girl ! who had entered his life in such a ; remarkable manner, never to be efi faced from his memory. , Then they fell to talking of flight. She had had such a contingency in ; her mind for a long time, and by degrees prepared for what seemed the ; inevitable conclusion of the whole I matter. i Rex knew the folly of delay, and ■ urge immediate action.

While the girl was just as anxious

to get away, she showed him the folly of such haste, telling him time had passed while he lay senseless in the prison lodge, and that the morning would soon dawn.

Delay was therefore imperative. She had a hidingplace where he could spend the hours that must elapse ere another night fell, as there were duties that would take her to the villiage, for she must pay a visit to the sick under her charge. Rex stowed himself away in the secret niche which the hermit had evidently fashioned against a day of danger, when the blacks might invade his sanctum, under the lead of some disgruntled witch doctor.

Plenty of food was given him, and there wore robes made of loin and giraffe skins, upon which he could rest and woo the coy goddess of sletj.). He was tired enough to sleep standing, and once he closed his eyes he knew nothing more for hours.

When ho aroused himself it was still daylight, as he could see, thanks to a chink in the wall above. Had Maid Marian returned? Ho fancied he heard some one moving in the refuge, but it might be the native girl? Upon making an investigation, however, by means of the little peep holes made in the wall on purpose for such a service, he discovered that the same old danger menaced him. It was Hassaje again. The shy old dog had taken advantage of his rival’s presence in the kraal, nursing certain sick women upon whom his incantations had failed to produce any effect, but who were now on the road to recovery, thanks to common sense and a few simple drugs. He had crept up to the eyrie bent upon some diabolical purpose. Hastings was glad of an opportunity to pay back some of the debt he owed this ugly old sinner,and he might even have taken more severe measures but for the fact that he was averse to shedding the miserable old reprobate’s blood in the charming little boudoir of his hostess.

He watched the movements of Hassaje, and speedily became convinced that the sorcerer had paid this sly visit in the hope of discovering some of the terrible secrets of the whits god, which were beyond his ken.

Being an arrant humbug himself ho could give a shrewd guess to the effect that these wondreful qualities that produced so powerful an effect upon the ignorant impis were of this world —hence his desire to learn their nature, so that he might destroy the influence of the fair mystery.

Hex had been placed in possession of a remedy for such a visit of curiosity. At his hand was a long tube, which could be gently thrust through a hole in the partition, and aimed at the intruder, when successive puffs would release a flight of tiny darts, each with its needle-like lip dipped in some substance which when thrust under the skin burned like lire.

With right good will he opened his baiteries on old Hassaje, w'ho jumped a foot high as the first dart struck him and gave vent to a bloodcurdling shriek.

Then they came thick and fast, as Ilex pumped and blew with might and main. Never man pranced as that necromancer. It only needed the screech of the bagpipes to mark his performance as the premium Highland fling. No whirling, dancing dervish was in the same class with this artful dodger, who believed his flesh was filled' with flro, and who bellowed and jumped and butted into the walls in his mad search for the exit, which finally discovering he plunged through, to repeat his acrobatic feat of the previous night in descending the hill head over heels and vice versa.

Rex had come out of hiding and fallen into a chair weak from l;V«ghing when he heard a sound and rooked up to sec the girl there in her sombre mantle, hooded and veiled.

CHAPTER XXIII. CROSSING THE ZAMBODI TROCHA. There was little need to tell Maid Marian what had taken place,for the amused smile upon her face declared plainly enough that she had been a witness to the ridiculous antics of that amusing though vindictive clown, the witch-doctor, and upon seeing him take such a reckless header down the steep hillside, regardless of cuticle and bones, she could readily supply the motif for such strange action, even if his shrill cries to the effect that he was burning up, and his skin full of lire had failed to reach her.

The day being pretty well spent, it was now high lime they prepared for (light. While carrying out her gentle amj merciful mission to the Zambodi kraal, Marian had not forgotten to listen to what talk was going the rounds.

She repeated her little budget of news to Hastings, and there was irood as well as bad. “ First of all his companions had undoubtedly escaped, since none of those who hunted for them had returned with the news of their capture or death, as would undoubtedly have been the case had such an event followed the chase. This fact of course pleased Rex greatly, and set him to wondering whether the daring little band had set out for Buluwuyo or returned by some now route to search for him. Many of the impis were absent from the kraal, and yet no general expedition had been undertaken

against the whites, so that it could be set down as positive that these braves were scouring the surrounding country for the fugitives, or else formed a trocha around the hill where the white goddess had her retreat. Hassajo being determined to prevent the escape of the party she had assisted from the prison lodge.

Even this state of affairs did not appear to daunt the girl, who evidently had gained assurance by long being compelled to rely upon her own powers. She conversed quietly on the subject, and her manner gave Rex the utmost confidence in the probable result. A meal was cooked and set before him. In many ways it was a strange a supper as he lu\d ever sat down to in all his life, but with that delightful being on the opposite side of the board that served as a table the whole affair was charming. Association has much to do with one’s enjoyment, and under this bewitching presence, the decoction that went under the name of tea, and which Rex as a connoisseur might at another time have deemed an extremely bitter herb, now tasted like ambrosia, nectar fit for the gods. He was already under the influence, and in a fair way to be hard hit. Their plans were speedily arranged, and the docile Zambodi girl entered into them, ready to do all that her beloved mistress said. She owed her life to Marian who had saved her when a mad parent in obedience to the promptings of the witch-doc-tor, had been about to sacrifice Ins own child at the stake, in order to propitiate the terrible god M'limo.

Although the girl would have met her sad fate with the remarkable fortitude of her race, possibly with songs on her lips as the lire curled up around her, just as martyrs have done in tho years gone by; at the same time life was sweet to her, and when Maid Marian dashed the burning fagots aside, cut the thongs that bound her, and declared defiance to Hassaje and all he represented, carrying the intended victim off to become her attendant ever after, it was natural that this young heart should worship her as a being sent from Heaven, and only await an opportunity to make the sacrifice of her life if in that way she could repay the debt. Darkness had come again.

From in front of the shelter Rex could look down upon the stockadfe surrounding tho great collection of huts. Fires wore burning here and there, but extreme care was always taken, for a spark might at any time sot the whole kraal in a blaze.

This thought crept into Hastings’ mind, and he remembered it as a suggestion put forward by Jim Bludsoe when he first gazed upon the home of the Zambodi. In the hands of desperate men fire is a terrible weapon, and the mostdaring savage in the world becomes panic-stricken when a sea of flame sweeps over forest and prairie or licks up his lodges like a whirlwind; for to him there is a majesty in the outstretched arms of the fire-fiynd, since most of them have at some time or other worshipped the mysterious agent that loaves but ashes after it has dined. With Maid Marian to assist him in making his escape, it hardly seemed probable he would need to apply so drastic a remedy as touching a torch to the kraal. Besides, he felt no animosity towards the blacks, remembering that his mission had been to despoil the ancient temple of its precious legacy. One wish he entertained, and really believed it would do him a world of good to be given a chance to finish Hassaje before shaking the dust of Zambodi land from his feet, The ancient reprobate and charlatan had aroused within him an ugly feeling, such as he could not remember entertaining towards any other human being. Perhaps, if the truth wore diligently sought, the reason for this might be found in the fact of Hassaje's hostility towards Marian, and his evident desire to seek her dethronement. Had the witch-doctor exorcised his deity and learned a little ordinary common sense he might have found a clear field long ago by secretly aiding and abetting the escape of the white girl; but such a solution to the vexatious problem had probably never entered his dense head.

Eox watched his companion make a few simple preparations for departure.

He knew that she was bidding farewell to what had been her home for many years, and which must have some niche in her memory, no matter what bright scenes the future might open up.

The Zambodi girl was to be left behind, temporarily at least, and there was a logical reason, for such a move.

Hex could remember reading of an army about to abandon a fort or strategical post, leaving a few men behind to keep the fires burning and thus deceive the watching foe. That was to be her mission.

From time to time up to midnight she was to perform some little task in which she had been carefully drilled by her mistress, and in various ways beguile those who watched below into the belief that the fair god still occupied her retreat.

Perhaps this would be through the burning of a little colored fire such as must awe the barbarian heart anon it might turn to a song born in Scotland's borders, such as Marian had taughtc her how to sing with feeling, not unlike her own. Rex saw that the idea was a bright one, and did not hesitate to compliment her on it.

At last it was time to go. They had a long and wearisome journey before them, with dangers on every side. The chances of their reaching Bulawayo in safety were rather problematical; but they had brave hearts, and were ready to do and dare, whatever the future held.

He was naturally curious to know how she expected to pass the cordon of warriors which the medicinc-man had thrown around the base of the kopje, for if any one was thoroughly acquainted with the ground the worker of wonders should be. (to be continued.)

WIND AND SEA.

The sea is a jovial comrade; He laughs wherever he goes; His merriment shines in the dimpling lines That wrinkle his hale repose; Ho lays himself down at' the feet of the sun And shakes all over with glee, And the broad backed billows fall faint on thi shore In the mirth ot the mighty seal But the wind Is sad and restless And cursed with (in inward pain; You may hark at will, by valley or hill, But you hear him still complain. j He wails on the barren mountains And shrieks on the wintry sea; He sobs in the cedar and moans in the pine And shudders all over the aspen tree. Welcome are both their voices, And I know not which is best— The laughter that slips from the ocean’s lipo Or the comfortless wind’s unrest. There’s a pang in all rejoicing, A joy in the heart of pain, And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are Binging the selfsame strain. —Bayard Taylor.