prester john-第15章

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In　the　late　afternoon　I　dragged　Wardlaw　out　for　a　walk。　　In　his　presence　I　had　to　keep　up　a　forced　cheerfulness；　and　I　believe　the　pretence　did　me　good。　　We　took　a　path　up　the　Berg　among　groves　of　stinkwood　and　essenwood；　where　a　failing　stream　made　an　easy　route。　　It　may　have　been　fancy；　but　it　seemed　to　me　that　the　wood　was　emptier　and　that　we　were　followed　less　closely。　　I　remember　it　was　a　lovely　evening；　and　in　the　clear　fragrant　gloaming　every　foreland　of　the　Berg　stood　out　like　a　great　ship　above　the　dark　green　sea　of　the　bush。　When　we　reached　the　edge　of　the　plateau　we　saw　the　sun　sinking　between　two　far　blue　peaks　in　Makapan's　country；　and　away　to　the　south　the　great　roll　of　the　high　veld。　　I　longed　miserably　for　the　places　where　white　men　were　thronged　together　in　dorps　and　cities。　As　we　gazed　a　curious　sound　struck　our　ears。　　It　seemed　to　begin　far　up　in　the　north　…　a　low　roll　like　the　combing　of　breakers　on　the　sand。　　Then　it　grew　louder　and　travelled　nearer　…　a　roll；　with　sudden　spasms　of　harsher　sound　in　it；　reminding　me　of　the　churning　in　one　of　the　pot…holes　of　Kirkcaple　cliffs。　　Presently　it　grew　softer　again　as　the　sound　passed　south；　but　new　notes　were　always　emerging。　　The　echo　came　sometimes；　as　it　were；　from　stark　rock；　and　sometimes　from　the　deep　gloom　of　the　forests。　　I　have　never　heard　an　eerier　sound。　　Neither　natural　nor　human　it　seemed；　but　the　voice　of　that　world　between　which　is　hid　from　man's　sight　and　hearing。

Mr　Wardlaw　clutched　my　arm；　and　in　that　moment　I　guessed　the　explanation。　　The　native　drums　were　beating；　passing　some　message　from　the　far　north　down　the　line　of　the　Berg；　where　the　locations　were　thickest；　to　the　great　black　population　of　the　south。

'But　that　means　war；'　Mr　Wardlaw　cried。

'It　means　nothing　of　the　kind；'　I　said　shortly。　　'It's　their　way　of　sending　news。　　It's　as　likely　to　be　some　change　in　the　weather　or　an　outbreak　of　cattle　disease。'

When　we　got　home　I　found　Japp　with　a　face　like　grey　paper。　'Did　you　hear　the　drums？'he　asked。

'Yes；'　I　said　shortly。　　'What　about　them？'

'God　forgive　you　for　an　ignorant　Britisher；'　he　almost　shouted。　　'You　may　hear　drums　any　night；　but　a　drumming　like　that　I　only　once　heard　before。　　It　was　in　'79　in　the　'Zeti　valley。　Do　you　know　what　happened　next　day？　　Cetewayo's　impis　came　over　the　hills；　and　in　an　hour　there　wasn't　a　living　white　soul　in　the　glen。　　Two　men　escaped；　and　one　of　them　was　called　Peter　Japp。'

'We　are　in　God's　hands　then；　and　must　wait　on　His　will；'　I　said　solemnly。

There　was　no　more　sleep　for　Wardlaw　and　myself　that　night。　We　made　the　best　barricade　we　could　of　the　windows；　loaded　all　our　weapons；　and　trusted　to　Colin　to　give　us　early　news。　Before　supper　I　went　over　to　get　Japp　to　join　us；　but　found　that　that　worthy　had　sought　help　from　his　old　protector；　the　bottle；　and　was　already　sound　asleep　with　both　door　and　window　open。

I　had　made　up　my　mind　that　death　was　certain；　and　yet　my　heart　belied　my　conviction；　and　I　could　not　feel　the　appropriate　mood。　　If　anything　I　was　more　cheerful　since　I　had　heard　the　drums。　　It　was　clearly　now　beyond　the　power　of　me　or　any　man　to　stop　the　march　of　events。　　My　thoughts　ran　on　a　native　rising；　and　I　kept　telling　myself　how　little　that　was　probable。　Where　were　the　arms；　the　leader；　the　discipline？　　At　any　rate　such　arguments　put　me　to　sleep　before　dawn；　and　I　wakened　at　eight　to　find　that　nothing　had　happened。　　The　clear　morning　sunlight；　as　of　old；　made　Blaauwildebeestefontein　the　place　of　a　dream。　　Zeeta　brought　in　my　cup　of　coffee　as　if　this　day　were　just　like　all　others；　my　pipe　tasted　as　sweet；　the　fresh　air　from　the　Berg　blew　as　fragrantly　on　my　brow。　　I　went　over　to　the　store　in　reasonably　good　spirits；　leaving　Wardlaw　busy　on　the　penitential　Psalms。

The　post…runner　had　brought　the　mail　as　usual；　and　there　was　one　private　letter　for　me。　　I　opened　it　with　great　excitement；　for　the　envelope　bore　the　stamp　of　the　firm。　　At　last　Colles　had　deigned　to　answer。

Inside　was　a　sheet　of　the　firm's　notepaper；　with　the　signature　of　Colles　across　the　top。　　Below　some　one　had　pencilled　these　five　words：


'The　Blesbok*　are　changing　ground。'　　　　　　　　　　　*A　species　of　buck。

I　looked　to　see　that　Japp　had　not　suffocated　himself；　then　shut　up　the　store；　and　went　back　to　my　room　to　think　out　this　new　mystification。

The　thing　had　come　from　Colles；　for　it　was　the　private　notepaper　of　the　Durban　office；　and　there　was　Colles'　signature。　But　the　pencilling　was　in　a　different　hand。　　My　deduction　from　this　was　that　some　one　wished　to　send　me　a　message；　and　that　Colles　had　given　that　some　one　a　sheet　of　signed　paper　to　serve　as　a　kind　of　introduction。　　I　might　take　it；　therefore；　that　the　scribble　was　Colles'　reply　to　my　letter。

Now；　my　argument　continued；　if　the　unknown　person　saw　fit　to　send　me　a　message；　it　could　not　be　merely　one　of　warning。　Colles　must　have　told　him　that　I　was　awake　to　some　danger；　and　as　I　was　in　Blaauwildebeestefontein；　I　must　be　nearer　the　heart　of　things　than　any　one　else。　　The　message　must　therefore　be　in　the　nature　of　some　password；　which　I　was　to　remember　when　I　heard　it　again。

I　reasoned　the　whole　thing　out　very　clearly；　and　I　saw　no　gap　in　my　logic。　　I　cannot　describe　how　that　scribble　had　heartened　me。　　I　felt　no　more　the　crushing　isolation　of　yesterday。　There　were　others　beside　me　in　the　secret。　　Help　must　be　on　the　way；　and　the　letter　was　the　first　tidings。

But　how　near？　　…　that　was　the　question；　and　it　occurred　to　me　for　the　first　time　to　look　at　the　postmark。　　I　went　back　to　the　store　and　got　the　envelope　out　of　the　waste…paper　basket。　The　postmark　was　certainly　not　Durban。　　The　stamp　was　a　Cape　Colony　one；　and　of　the　mark　I　could　only　read　three　letters；　T。　R。　S。　　This　was　no　sort　of　clue；　and　I　turned　the　thing　over；　completely　baffled。　　Then　I　noticed　that　there　was　no　mark　of　the　post　town　of　delivery。　　Our　letters　to　Blaauwildebeestefontein　came　through　Pietersdorp　and　bore　that　mark。　　I　compared　the　envelope　with　others。　　They　all　had　a　circle；　and　'Pietersdorp'　in　broad　black　letters。　　But　this　envelope　had　nothing　except　the　stamp。

I　was　still　slow　at　detective　work；　and　it　was　some　minutes　before　the　explanation　flashed　on　me。　　The　letter　had　never　been　posted　at　all。　　The　stamp　was　a　fake；　and　had　been　borrowed　from　an　old　envelope。　　There　was　only　one　way　in　which　it　could　have　come。　　It　must　have　been　put　in　the　letter…　bag　while　the　postman　was　on　his　way　from　Pietersdorp。　　My　unknown　friend　must　therefore　be　somewhere　within　eighty　miles　of　me。　　I　hurried　off　to　look　for　the　post…runner；　but　he　had　started　back　an　hour　before。　　There　was　nothing　for　it　but　to　wait　on　the　coming　of　the　unknown。

That　afternoon　I　again　took　Mr　Wardlaw　for　a　walk。　　It　is　an　ingrained　habit　of　mine　that　I　never　tell　anyone　more　of　a　business　than　is　practically　necessary。　　For　months　I　had　kept　all　my　knowledge　to　myself；　and　breathed　not　a　word　to　a　soul。　But　I　thought　it　my　duty　to　tell　Wardlaw　about　the　letter；　to　let　him　see　that　we　were　not　forgotten。　　I　am　afraid　it　did　not　encourage　his　mind。　　Occult　messages　seemed　to　him　only　the　last　proof　of　a　deadly　danger　encompassing　us；　and　I　could　not　shake　his　opinion。

We　took　the　same　road　to　the　crown　of　the　Berg；　and　I　was　confirmed　in　my　suspicion　that　the　woods　were　empty　and　the　watchers　gone。　　The　place　was　as　deserted　as　the　bush　at　Umvelos'。　　When　we　reached　the　summit　about　sunset　we　waited　anxiously　for　the　sound　of　drums。　　It　came；　as　we　expected；　louder　and　more　menacing　than　before。　　Wardlaw　stood　pinching　my　arm　as　the　great　tattoo　swept　down　the　escarpment；　and　died　away　in　the　far　mountains　beyond　the　Olifants；　Yet　it　no　longer　seemed　to　be　a　wall　of　sound；　shutting　us　out　from　our　kindred　in　the　West。　　A　message　had　pierced　the　wall。　　If　the　blesbok　were　changing　ground；　I　believed　that　the　hunters　were　calling　out　their　hounds　and　getting　ready　for　the　chase。



CHAPTER　VII　CAPTAIN　ARCOLL　TELLS　A　TALE


It　froze　in　the　night；　harder　than　was　common　on　the　Berg　even　in　winter；　and　as　I　crossed　the　road　next　morning　it　was　covered　with　rime。　　All　my　fears　had　gone；　and　my　mind　was　strung　high　with　expectation。　　Five　pencilled　words　may　seem　a　small　thing　to