Allan and the Holy Flower by H. Rider Haggard (online e reader TXT) 📗

mortals, and is succeeded by one who takes her place. Thus the present Mother is a white woman of your race, now of middle age. When she dies she will be succeeded by her daughter, who also is a white woman and very beautiful. After she dies another who is white will be found, perhaps one who is of black parents but born white.”

“How old is this daughter?” interrupted Brother John in a curiously intent voice, “and who is her father?”

“The daughter was born over twenty years ago, Dogeetah, after the Mother of the Flower was captured and brought here. She says that the father was a white man to whom she was married, but who is dead.”

Brother John’s head dropped upon his chest, and his eyes shut as though he had gone to sleep.

“As for where the Mother lives,” went on the Kalubi, “it is on the island in the lake at the top of the mountain that is surrounded by water. She has nothing to do with the White God, but those women who serve her go across the lake at times to tend the fields where grows the seed that the Kalubi sows, of which the corn is the White God’s food.”

“Good,” I said, “now we understand—not much, but a little. Tell us next what is your plan? How are we to come into the place where this great ape lives? And if we come there, how are we to kill the beast, seeing that your successor, Komba, was careful to prevent us from bringing our firearms to your land?”

“Aye, lord Macumazana, may the teeth of the god meet in his brain for that trick; yes, may he die as I know how to make him die. That prophecy of which he told you is no prophecy from of old. It arose in the land within the last moon only, though whether it came from Komba or from the Motombo I know not. None save myself, or at least very few here, had heard of the iron tubes that throw out death, so how should there be a prophecy concerning them?”

“I am sure I don’t know, Kalubi, but answer the rest of the question.”

“As to your coming into the forest—for the White God lives in a forest on the slopes of the mountain, lords—that will be easy since the Motombo and the people will believe that I am trapping you there to be a sacrifice, such as they desire for sundry reasons,” and he looked at the plump Stephen in a very suggestive way. “As to how you are to kill the god without your tubes of iron, that I do not know. But you are very brave and great magicians. Surely you can find a way.”

Here Brother John seemed to wake up again.

“Yes,” he said, “we shall find a way. Have no fear of that, O Kalubi. We are not afraid of the big ape whom you call a god. Yet it must be at a price. We will not kill this beast and try to save your life, save at a price.”

“What price?” asked the Kalubi nervously. “There are wives and cattle—no, you do not want the wives, and the cattle cannot be taken across the lake. There are gold dust and ivory. I have already promised these, and there is nothing more that I can give.”

“The price is, O Kalubi, that you hand over to us to be taken away the white woman who is called Mother of the Holy Flower, with her daughter——”

“And,” interrupted Stephen, to whom I had been interpreting, “the Holy Flower itself, all of it dug up by the roots.”

When he heard these modest requests the poor Kalubi became like one upon the verge of madness.

“Do you understand,” he gasped, “do you understand that you are asking for the gods of my country?”

“Quite,” replied Brother John with calmness; “for the gods of your country—nothing more nor less.”

The Kalubi made as though he would fly from the hut, but I caught him by the arm and said:

“See, friend, things are thus. You ask us, at great danger to ourselves, to kill one of the gods of your country, the highest of them, in order to save your life. Well, in payment we ask you to make a present of the remaining gods of your country, and to see us and them safe across the lake. Do you accept or refuse?”

“I refuse,” answered the Kalubi sullenly. “To accept would mean the last curse upon my spirit; that is too horrible to tell.”

“And to refuse means the first curse upon your body; namely, that in a few hours it must be broken and chewed by a great monkey which you call a god. Yes, broken and chewed, and afterwards, I think, cooked and eaten as a sacrifice. Is it not so?”

The Kalubi nodded his head and groaned.

“Yet,” I went on, “for our part we are glad that you have refused, since now we shall be rid of a troublesome and dangerous business and return in safety to Mazitu land.”

“How will you return in safety, O lord Macumazana, you who are doomed to the ‘Hot Death’ if you escape the fangs of the god?”

“Very easily, O Kalubi, by telling Komba, the Kalubi-to-be, of your plots against this god of yours, and how we have refused to listen to your wickedness. In fact, I think this may be done at once while you are here with us, O Kalubi, where perhaps you do not expect to be found. I will go strike upon the pot without the door; doubtless though it is late, some will hear. Nay, man, stand you still; we have knives and our servants have spears,” and I made as though to pass him.

“Lord,” he said, “I will give you the Mother of the Holy Flower and her daughter; aye, and the Holy Flower itself dug up by the roots, and I swear that if I can, I will set you and them safe across the lake, only asking that I may come with you, since here I dare not stay. Yet the curse will come too, but if so, it is better to die of a curse in a day to be, than to-morrow at the fangs of the god. Oh! why was I born! Why was I born!” and he began to weep.

“That is a question many have asked and none have been able to answer, O friend Kalubi, though mayhap there is an answer somewhere,” I replied in a kind voice.

For my heart was stirred with pity of this poor wretch mazed and lost in his hell of superstition; this potentate who could not escape from the trappings of a hateful power, save by the door of a death too horrible to contemplate; this priest whose doom it was to be slain by the very hands of his god, as those who went before him had been slain, and as those who came after him would be slain.

“Yet,” I went on, “I think you have chosen wisely, and we hold you to your word. While you are faithful to us, we will say nothing. But of this be sure—that if you attempt to betray us, we who are not so helpless as we seem, will betray you,