The remnant of Kara-Kara's beaten army hied them back to their own country, only to find it laid waste by fire and sword; so they fled away into the wilderness, and joined other tribes with whom they had been friendly before this.

Having both fought on one side, and both a.s.sisted each other in annihilating the unfortunate Kara-Kara, 'Ngaloo and Googagoo naturally became very friendly.

Both armies bivouacked that night on the battlefield, and the wounded were attended to. These, however, owing to the brutal customs of African warfare, were very few, for 'Ngaloo's men in the moonlight ran a-muck all across the blood-stained field, and ruthlessly slew all those who showed the slightest signs of life.

Next morning was a sad one for Harry, for his faithful Somali Jack, who had served him so long and so faithfully, who had nursed him in sickness, and more than once saved his life, breathed his last in his arms shortly after sunrise.

He had been terribly wounded in the battle, and nothing could save the poor fellow.

Quite conscious he was to the last, and conscious, too, that his end was drawing near, though neither he nor Harry knew it was so _very_ nigh.

Some duty or other demanded Harry's presence in another part of the field, but Jack said--

"Do not go and leave me now, dear master; stay with me a little time."

"I will stay; I will not go--poor Jack," replied Harry. And he sat down beside the dying Indian, and took his head in his lap.

Harry often thought of this last interview with his Somali servant afterwards, and how thankful he always felt, when he did so, that he had not gone away and left Jack. Had he done that he would not have seen the last of him, or heard his dying words.

These, however, were few, for Jack was weak and his voice feeble, and his breath coming in gasps. He lay some time quiet, then--

"I have so much to say," he almost whispered; "but I forget, and I am cold--_so_ cold."

"I have a brother in Brava."

Harry thought he said mother.

"You have a mother, Jack?"

"No; no mother--a brother. See him; tell him how I died, how I lived.

Tell him about heaven and all things good, as you have told me."

"Raggy--he will miss poor Jack."

There was a long interval of silence. Jack's eyes were closed now, and Harry thought he slept. But he opened them presently.

Then he put his cold damp hand in Harry's. "Master," he said, "you have given me life."

"Oh, Jack!" said Harry, "I fear it is far beyond my skill to give you life."

"But you have given me life--light and life. I was but a savage. You have told me of Him who can love even a savage."

"Yes, yes, Jack; He loves you. He will receive you."

"Say 'The Vale,'" Jack murmured.

Harry knew what he meant, and repeated a verse or two, in metre, of that beautiful psalm that has given comfort to many a soul in sorrow.

The last verse that Jack could have heard was the fourth:

"Yea, though I walk thro' death's dark vale, Yet will I fear none ill, For Thou art with me; and Thy rod And staff me comfort still."

There were just a few long-drawn sobs at intervals, then Harry sat watching to see if he would sigh again.

But a minute pa.s.sed, and Jack sighed no more. Harry gently closed the eyes.

Then he sat for a time, biting his lip till it almost bled; but all to no purpose, his sorrow _would_ find vent.

And knowing all we do, can we wonder at Harry's grief?

Can we wonder that he bent over that faithful Jack, and that the scalding tears fell from his eyes upon the poor dead face?

Book 4--CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE FIGHT ON THE HILL--REUNION--"THE GREATEST KING IN ALL THE WORLD"-- HOME AGAIN.

This is a busy, work-a-day world, events will not tarry, nor will duty wait even upon grief, and no sooner had Harry and his party dug a grave and laid poor Somali Jack to his long rest in a cotton-tree grove, than he had to hurry off to camp again.

It was the morning of another day, a bright and beautiful day, birds sang in the bush, or went flitting from branch to branch, displaying their rainbow colours, as happy and careless as if there were no sorrow in the world.

But other birds there were--kites and fierce-looking _corvidae_, with horrid-looking vultures, that went sailing lazily round in the sky, alighting every moment on some dead body--to gorge. And gorge they would, until unable either to walk, or fly.

And what they leave of the corpses on the battlefield the ants, whose great hills and homes can be counted by the score, will speedily devour.

At night, too, when the vultures have gone to roost on the scorched and blackened branches of the burned forest, wild dogs and hyaenas will come in crowds to the awful feast.

Then rains and dews will fall and wash the bones, and the sun's bright beams will bleach them, till in time nought will be left in the field of that fearful fight except blanched skulls and snow-white skeletons.

Ah, boys! where is the glory of war when the fight is fought, when the battle is over, and the victory won? Look upon that silent, bone-strewn plain and tell me where.

As naturally as if he had been voted into it, did Harry now quietly and coolly a.s.sume command of the whole army, both Googagoo's and 'Ngaloo's.

The latter king he could not respect, albeit it was through his instrumentality that they had all escaped utter annihilation. He tried to feel grateful to 'Ngaloo, but it was impossible, he really could not help observing that the great chief had a selfish, grasping, and grovelling mind. There were times, indeed, that he could scarcely feel civil to the savage.

And no wonder. 'Ngaloo, after looking for a long time at Harry's actions, and admiring his bustling but well-trained activity, came, and with cool audacity made a proposition to him. It was couched in the following terms:

"We soon go back now to my beautiful land among the mountains. I am a great king now. I have been a great king all my life. I am now twice a great king, because I shall reign over all the rich land and woods of my dear brother King Kara-Kara, whose confounded dead nose I pulled on the battlefield. So there is no king in the world so great now as 'Ngaloo.

Come, then, and live with me. I will make of you a big chief. I will cut the head of my prime minister off, and you shall reign in his stead, and have all his wives as slaves--"

It was precisely at this point that Harry interrupted the king's poetical harangue.

Harry simply said--

"Bosh!"

Very emphatically he said it, too. Then he wheeled right round and proceeded with his duty.

'Ngaloo went away then, somewhat crestfallen; but he had a private commissariat of his own, and he found some rum there, so he consoled himself with that.