The People of the Mist. H. Rider Haggard

And here, my lord, I am come at last with much toil, and now I pray you deliver my mistress the Shepherdess from the hands of the Yellow Devil. Oh! my Lord, I seem poor and wretched; but I tell you that if you can deliver her you shall win a great reward. Yes, I will reveal to you that which I have kept hidden all my life, ay, even from Mavoom my master; I will reveal to you the secret treasures of my people, ‘The Children of the Mist.‘”

      Now when Leonard, who all the while had been listening attentively and in silence to Soa’s tale, heard her last words, he raised his head and stared at her, thinking that her sorrows had made her mad. There was no look of madness upon the woman’s fierce face, however, but only one of the most earnest and indeed passionate entreaty. So, letting this matter go by for the while, he spoke to her:

      “Are you then crazed, mother?” he said. “You see that I am alone here with one servant, for my three companions, of whom the people in the kraal told you, are dead through fever, and I myself am smitten with it. And yet you ask me, alone as I am, to travel to this slave-trader’s camp that is you know not where, and there, single-handed, to rescue your mistress, if indeed you have a mistress, and your tale is true. Are you then mad, mother?”

      “No, Lord, I am not mad, and that which I tell you is true, every word of it. I know that I ask a great thing, but I know also that you Englishmen can do great things when you are well paid. Strive to help me and you shall have your reward. Ay, should you fail, and live, I can still give you a reward; not much perhaps, but more than you have ever earned.”

      “Never mind the reward now, mother,” broke in Leonard testily, for the veiled sarcasm of Soa’s speech had stung him, “unless, indeed, you can cure me of the fever,” he added with a laugh.

      “I can do that,” she answered quietly; “to-morrow morning I will cure you.”

      “So much the better,” he said, with an incredulous smile. “And now of your wisdom tell me how am I to look for your mistress, to say nothing of rescuing her, when I do not know whither she has been taken? Probably this Nest of which the Portugee talked is a secret place. How long has she been carried off?”

      “This will be the twelfth day, Lord. As for the Nest, it is secret; that I have discovered. It is to your wisdom that I look to find it.”

      Leonard mused awhile, then a thought struck him. Turning to the dwarf, who had been sitting by listening to all that was said in stolid silence, his great head resting upon his knees, he spoke to him in Dutch:

      “Otter, were you not once taken as a slave?”

      “Yes, Baas, once, ten years ago.”

      “How was it?”

      “Thus Baas. I was hunting on the Zambesi with the soldiers of a tribe there—it was after my own people had driven me out because they said that I was too ugly to become their chief, as I was born to be. Then the Yellow Devil, that same man of whom the woman speaks, fell upon us with Arabs, and took us to his place, there to await the slave-dhows. He was a stout man, horrible to see, and elderly. The day the dhows came in I escaped by swimming; and all the others who remained alive were taken off in ships to Zanzibar.”

      “Could you find your way to that place again, Otter?”

      “Yes, Baas. It is a hard spot to find, for the path runs through morasses; moreover the place is secret and protected by water. All of us slaves were blindfolded during the last day’s march. But I worked up my bandage with my nose—ah! my big nose served me well that day—and watched the path from beneath it, and Otter never forgets a road over which his feet have travelled. Also I followed that path back.”

      “Could you find the spot from here?”

      “Yes, Baas. I should go along these mountains, ten days’ journey or more, till we struck the southernmost mouth of the Zambesi below Luabo. Then I should follow the river down a day’s journey. Afterwards two or more days through the swamps and we come to the place. But it is a strong place, Baas, and there are many men armed with guns in it; moreover, there is a big cannon, a ‘by-and-by’!”

      Again Leonard thought a moment, then he turned to Soa and asked, “Do you understand Dutch? No? Well I have found out something of this Nest from my servant. Pereira said that it was eight days’ journey from your master’s settlement, so your mistress has been there some three or four days if she ever reached it. Now, from what I know of the habits of slave-traders on this coast, the dhows will not begin to take in their cargoes for another month, because of the monsoon. Therefore, if I am correct, there is plenty of time. Mind you, Mother, I am not saying that I will have anything to do with this business; I must think it over first.”

      “Yes, you will, White Man,” she answered, “when you know the reward; but of that I will tell you to-morrow, after I have cured you of your fever. And now I pray, Black One, show me a place where I may sleep, for I am very weary.”

CHAPTER VII

       Table of Contents

LEONARD SWEARS ON THE BLOOD OF ACA

       Table of Contents

      On the morrow Leonard woke early from a troubled sleep, for his fever would scarcely let him rest. But, early as it was, the woman Soa had been up before him, and on coming out of the cave the first thing that he saw was her tall shape bending over a little fire, whereon a gourd was boiling, the contents of which she stirred from time to time.

      “Good morning to you, White Man,” she said; “here is that which shall cure you of your sickness as I promised to do;” and she lifted the gourd from the fire.

      Leonard took it and sniffed at the liquor, which smelt abominably.

      “It is more likely to poison me, mother,” he said.

      “No, no,” she answered with a smile; “drink half of it now and half at midday, and the fever shall trouble you no more.”

      So soon as the stuff was cool enough Leonard obeyed, though with a doubting heart.

      “Well, mother,” he said, setting the gourd down with a gasp, “if nastiness is any proof of virtue your medicine should be good.”

      “It is good,” she answered gravely; “many have been dragged from the edge of death by it.”

      And here it may be stated, whether it was owing to Soa’s medicine or to other causes, that Leonard began to mend from that hour. By nightfall he felt a different man, and before three days were over he was as strong as he had ever been in his life. But into the ingredients of the draught he never found the courage to inquire, and perhaps it was as well.

      Shortly after he had taken his dose Leonard observed Otter walking up the hill, bearing a huge lump of meat upon his shoulders.

      “The old woman has brought us luck,” said the dwarf as he loosed himself from his burden. “Once more the bush is full of game; scarcely had I reached it when I killed a young koodoo, fat, ah! fat, and there are many of them about.”

      Then they prepared breakfast, and ate it, and when the meal was done once more they talked.

      “Mother,” began Leonard, “last night you asked me to undertake a great venture, and promised a reward in payment. Now, as you said, we Englishmen will do much for gold, and I am a poor man who seeks wealth. You demand of me that I should risk my life; now tell me of its price.”

      The woman Soa looked at him awhile, and answered:

      “White Man, have you ever heard of the People of the Mist?”

      “No,” he said, “that is, except in London. I mean that I know nothing of such a