Morning Star. Генри Райдер Хаггард

I hear it often, I see it rarely, for it is mixed up with the light.”

      “I don’t believe in Kas,” exclaimed Rames scornfully, “you make them up out of your head.”

      A little while after this talk something happened that caused Rames to change his mind about Kas, or at any rate the Ka of Tua. In a hidden court of the temple was a deep pool of water with cemented sides, where, it was said, lived a sacred crocodile, an enormous beast that had dwelt there for hundreds of years. Rames and Tua having heard of this crocodile, often talked of it and longed to see it, but could not for there was a high wall round the tank, and in it a door of copper that was kept locked, except when once in every eight days the priests took in food to the crocodile—living goats and sheep, and sometimes a calf, none of which ever came back again.

      Now one day Rames watching them return, saw the priest, who was called Guardian of the Door, put his hand behind him to thrust the key with which he had just locked the door, into his wallet, and missing the mouth of the wallet, let it fall upon the sand, then go upon his way knowing nothing of what he had done.

      When he had gone in a great hurry, for he was a fat old priest and the dinner hour was at hand, Rames pounced upon the key and hid it in his robe. Then he sought out the princess and said,

      “Morning Star, this evening, when I come back from school and am allowed to play with you, we can look at the wonderful beast in the tank, for look, I have the key which that fat priest will not search for till seven days are gone by, before which I can take it to him, saying that I found it in the sand, or perhaps put it back into his wallet.”

      When she heard this Tua’s eyes shone, since above all things she desired to see this holy monster. But in the evening when the boy came running to her eagerly—for he had thought of nothing but the crocodile all day, and had bought a pigeon from a school-fellow with which to feed the brute—he found Tua in a different mood.

      “I don’t think that we will go to see the holy crocodile, Rames,” she said, looking at him thoughtfully.

      “Why not?” he asked amazed. “There is no one about, and I have put fat upon the key so that it will make no noise.”

      “Because my Ka has been with me, Rames, and told me that it is a bad act and if we do trouble will come to us.”

      “Oh! may the fiend Set take your Ka,” replied the lad in a rage. “Show it to me and I will talk with it.”

      “I cannot, Rames, for it is me. Moreover, if Set took it, he would take me also, and you are wicked to wish such a thing.”

      Now the boy began to cry with vexation, sobbing out that she was not to be trusted, and that he had paid away his bronze knife, which Pharaoh had given him when last he visited the temple, for a pigeon to tempt the beast to the top of the water, so that they might see it, although the knife was worth many pigeons, and Pharaoh would be angry if he heard that he had parted with it.

      “Why should we take the life of a poor pigeon to please ourselves?” asked Tua, softening a little at the sight of his grief.

      “It’s taken already,” he answered. “It fluttered so that I had to sit on it to hide it from the priest, and when he had gone it was dead. Look,” and he opened the linen bag he held, and showed her the dove cold and stiff.

      “As you did not mean to kill it, that makes a difference,” said Tua judicially. “Well, perhaps my Ka did not mean that we should not have one peep, and it is a pity to waste the poor pigeon, which then will have died for nothing.”

      Rames agreed that it would be the greatest of pities, so the two children slipped away through the trees of the garden into the shadow of the wall, along which they crept till they came to the bronze door. Then guiltily enough Rames put the great key into the lock, and with the help of a piece of wood which he had also made ready, that he set in the ring of the key to act as a lever, the two of them turning together shot back the heavy bolts.

      Taking out the key lest it should betray them, they opened the door a little and squeezed themselves through into the forbidden place. No sooner had they done so than almost they wished themselves back again, for there was something about the spot that frightened them, to say nothing of the horrible smell which made Tua feel ill. It was a great tank, with a little artificial island in its centre, full of slimy water that looked almost black because of the shadow of the high walls, and round it ran a narrow stone path. At one spot in this path, however, where grew some dank-looking trees and bushes, was a slope, also of stone, and on the slope with its prow resting in the water a little boat, and in the boat, oars. But of the crocodile there was nothing to be seen.

      “It is asleep somewhere,” whispered Tua, “let us go away, I do not like this stench.”

      “Stench,” answered Rames. “I smell nothing except the lilies on the water. Let us wake it up, it would be silly to go now. Surely you are not afraid, O Star.”

      “Oh, no! I am not afraid,” answered Tua proudly. “Only wake it up quickly, please.”

      What Rames did not add was that it would be impossible to retreat as the door had closed behind them, and there was no keyhole on its inner side.

      So they walked round the tank, but wherever it might lurk, the sleeping crocodile refused to wake.

      “Let us get into the boat and look for it,” suggested Rames. “Perhaps it is hiding on the island.”

      So he led her to the stone slope, where to her horror Tua saw the remains of the crocodile’s last meal, a sight that caused her to forget her doubts and jump into the boat very quickly. Then Rames gave it a push and sprang in after her, so that they found themselves floating on the water. Now, standing in the bow, the boy took an oar and paddled round the island, but still there were no signs of the crocodile.

      “I don’t believe it is here at all,” he said, recovering his courage.

      “You might try the pigeon,” suggested Tua, who, now that there was less smell, felt her curiosity returning.

      This was a good thought upon which Rames acted at once. Taking the dead bird from the bag he spread out its wings to make it look as though it were alive, and threw it into the water, exclaiming, “Arise, O Holy Crocodile!”

      Then with fearful suddenness, whence they knew not, that crocodile arose. An awful scaly head appeared with dull eyes and countless flashing fangs, and behind the head cubit upon cubit of monstrous form. The fangs closed upon the pigeon and everything vanished.

      “That was the Holy Crocodile,” said Rames abstractedly as he stared at the boiling waters, “which has lived here during the reigns of eight Pharaohs, and perhaps longer. Now we have seen it.”

      “Yes,” answered Tua, “and I never want to see it again. Get me away quick, or I will tell your father.”

      Thus adjured the boy, nothing loth, seized his oar, when suddenly the ancient crocodile, having swallowed the dove, thrust up its snout immediately beneath them and began to follow the boat. Now Tua screamed aloud and said something about her Ka.

      “Tell it to keep off the crocodile,” shouted Rames as he worked the oar furiously. “Nothing can hurt a Ka.”

      But the crocodile would not be kept off. On the contrary, it thrust its grey snout and one of its claws over the stern of the boat in such a fashion that Rames could no longer work the oar, dragging it almost under water, and snapped with its horrible jaws.

      “Oh! it is coming in; we are going to be eaten,” cried Tua.

      At that moment the boat touched the landing-place and swung round, so that its bow, where Tua was, struck the head of the crocodile, which seemed to infuriate the beast. At least, it hurled itself upon the boat, causing the fore part to heel over, fill with water, and begin to sink. Then the little lad, Rames, showed the courage that was in him. Shouting to Tua:

      “Get on shore, get on shore!” he plunged past her and smote the huge reptile