And so poor Noti was lowered into his grave, and the missionary breathed the white man's prayer over the Kaffir resting-place, among the crumbling ruins of Sofala. Heavy stones were rolled over the spot to baulk the jackals of their prey, and the old chief stood calmly by, finally escorting the party to their canoe. All that night and the following they toiled up the stream, resting during the day, bearing the roar of the lion occasionally, and often startled by the plop of the alligators, as they slid off the bank into the water. The afternoon of the third day only, the camp at Gorongoza was reached, their numbers reduced by one.

Volume 1, Chapter IX.

GORONGOZA.

"I think," said Hughes, as the two sat outside the small tent, pitched by the side of the stream, the morning after their return from Sofala,--"I think we had better remain here for a time."

"I agree with you; and as there is no one to say us No, let it be decided in the affirmative. There are large quant.i.ties of wild ducks, and our fellows are so expert in finding their eggs, that the great change to men who have lived so long on nothing but venison must be beneficial."

"We have plenty of fruit, too, and the ground-nuts are not to be despised. These cool streams, which seem to take their rise in yonder mountains, are another inducement. Our lines are at present cast in pleasant places, and what lies beyond seems uncertain. Let us profit by the present."

"I want to go over all our baggage, and put our fellows in light marching order. To look at our little camp now, without waggon or horses, without cattle, and our numbers so reduced, we seem to resemble one of the parties so well painted by Cooper in his Indian tales. Who are those fellows?"

A party of natives were seen approaching, among whom was the Matabele chief. They were almost naked, but came on with a most a.s.sured air, squatting down in a half circle before the tent, and employing all their powers in staring stolidly at the strangers.

"Here, Luji," shouted Hughes, who was carefully loading his rifle, "just see what these fellows want, will you?"

"Want calico, master," said Luji, after a great amount of talk, "give gold."

The Macomb, for such they were, produced from their waist-belts quills closed at each end, which contained gold. Some of the grains were of large size, and one of the natives showed a small lump of the yellow metal. It was quite evident that they knew where to procure it.

"Does not all this go to prove my theory, Hughes; and are we not approaching a gold country?"

"Tell them we are not traders, Luji. That we have not any calico; but ask if there is any large game about."

The scantily-dressed natives squatted on, looking fixedly at the Europeans, and evidently not believing the a.s.sertion. At length one of their number, touching a large piece of canvas, which had been thrown on one side after fashioning the small tent, spoke volubly, often pointing to the mountain. "The Macomb show master caracal for this," said Luji, laughing.

"What's a caracal, Wyzinski?" asked Hughes. "Oh, these people call the leopard by that name; but the real caracal is the lynx or wild cat,"

answered the missionary.

"Ask him where his caracal is, Luji?" said Hughes. The native pointed to a ledge of rock, high up the mountain-side.

"Well, tell him he shall have it, Luji, if he shows me the leopard.

I'll leave you to the baggage department, Wyzinski, and see whether I can get the caracal's skin. Take the canvas, Luji, and come along.

Tell him you will give it him if I get a shot at the leopard."

Shouldering his rifle, Hughes moved on, beckoning to the native and Luji to follow him. The former rose and obeyed, while his comrades remained squatted before the tent, steadfastly gazing at Wyzinski, their eyes following his every movement, and so they remained stolidly staring for hours, before they took their departure.

Wending his way among the men, who were busily employed plucking wild ducks, and preparing them for the mid-day dinner, pounding up the manioc flour to make cakes, or looking to the fires, Hughes took his way towards the mountain, the native guide and Luji following. Hardly had they left the outskirts of the camp, when the monkey came bounding after them.

"Let him alone, Luji; you can't drive him away," said Hughes, as with a leap the mischievous brute ensconced himself on the man's shoulders, the Macombe looking at the scene in great astonishment.

Toiling up the face of the hill-side, they reached at last the ledge of rock. It would have been very hazardous to face the leopard with so small a footing; besides, the animal, of course, had a refuge there.

Making a wide circuit, the party, accompanied by the monkey, gained a height immediately above the ledge. Posting Luji at a spot where he judged he might prove useful in case the leopard bolted and the Hottentot did not, Captain Hughes, lying flat on his face, leaned over the edge of the precipitous rock, and looked down on to the ledge. It was a very awkward position, and when far enough over to enable the hunter to fire, he found himself nearly overbalanced.

The ledge was empty, but after watching for an hour, and when nearly wearied out, the leopard at last came out of his cave, and began walking up and down the narrow s.p.a.ce.

Just as the animal, in one of his turns, arrived under him, the hunter fired. The ball struck obliquely, where the spine joins with the head, and, slanting off, lodged in the brain, death being instantaneous, but the hunter was nearly overbalanced. Just as he struggled to his knees, the baboon, with a tremendous spring, lighted right on his shoulders.

The sudden shock destroyed the balance, and clutching at the bushes, which gave way slowly, one by one, Hughes went over the precipice.

They luckily saved him, but, bruised and shaken, he fell on the ledge, close to the dead leopard, the lock of the rifle being broken in the fall. Looking up, he saw the monkey, peering over, and grimacing, for so nimble was it, that it had not shared the fall. Shaking his fist, in return for which he received a shower of stones and dirt, Hughes moved cautiously along the ledge. The leopard was quite dead. A cave lay a little further on, and as he entered it, he was almost driven back by the close smell of decaying flesh. It was heaped with bones, and remains of deer, and must have been used for many years.

The leopard was a male, and the female might be near. Advancing cautiously, his rifle, only one barrel of which was available, in his hand, Hughes was astonished by the great extent of the cavern. To the right, it soon became black as night, and the sound of falling water was to be heard. This might explain the extreme coldness and clearness of the streams of Gorongoza, for doubtless they took their rise in the heart of these mountains, flowing perhaps for miles in darkness among the caverns. The roof was covered with beautiful white stalact.i.tes, but the eye could not penetrate the thick darkness in this direction. To the left a kind of corridor led towards an opening giving on the mountain-side, and towards this Hughes turned, glad to get away from the fetid exhalations of the cavern. Two hedgehogs were travelling in the same direction, the quills of which were very curious, being differently coloured, some white, others black, and some brown, the body, where it could be seen, entirely black. The animals rolled themselves up securely, looking just like parti-coloured b.a.l.l.s. Emerging into daylight, and stepping from ledge to ledge, Hughes gained the mountain-side, hearing from time to time Luji's shouts, as the man searched for him, then crossing a deep cut, he gained another spur of the Nyamonga range, higher far than the hill of Gorongoza.

Shading his eyes with his hand, Captain Hughes paused breathless on the mountain-height. The whole country lay spread like a map before him.

Far away to the east lay the face of a friend, for the blue line of the ocean was distinctly visible. The mountain range on which he stood ran nearly north and south, while the beautifully wooded plain, across which the party had travelled, was mapped out before his gaze, with Quissanga, Madanda, and the country of the Batonga plainly visible, the rivers looking like silvery threads, and the vast forests like inky spots, on the sunlit plain. To the north, stretched at the foot of the mountains, lay the plains they were yet to traverse, the unknown land of promise.

It looked one dense forest, broken at rare intervals with open, and intersected by two rivers, one appearing a considerable sheet of water, while in the far distance, a range of lofty mountains loomed, dim, blue, and ghostlike in their outline.

A deep interest attached itself to the scene, for between him and those mountains the Zambesi must run, and somewhere among the forests must lie the ruined cities of Zulu land, if indeed they existed at all, save in the excited imagination of the missionary. An hour had gone by and still Hughes stood gazing over the scene, when a shout came ringing up the hill-side, and soon a dark speck was seen jumping from ledge to ledge. Recognising his comrade, Hughes answered the cry.

"I was anxious about you," said Wyzinski, as he stood breathless and panting on the summit. "The whole camp is out in search of you; Luji brought in a report that you had pitched over the cliff."

"And so I did, thanks to his demon of a monkey."

"Yes; we found the dead leopard, and when searching, I thought I saw something like a human outline on the mountain."

"Now, Wyzinski," asked his comrade, as he leaned on his rifle, "where runs the Zambesi? for I suppose it is between us and yonder mountains."

"Follow the coast-line," returned the other. "There lies Sofala, and some forty or fifty miles more to the north the Zambesi must empty itself into the sea at Quillimane."

"Livingstone came as far south as that, and as far north from the Cape as the Limpopo."

"He did: but instead of travelling further north as we have done, he turned to the westward, visiting the Bechuanas and Mozelkatse's country; but see, what on earth can that be?"

The missionary pointed to a kind of cairn on the mountain-side. Beside it lay six slabs of stone, and that they were the work of the white man was evident. Cracked, blackened, and defaced, there was no mistake, the stones were worked into flat slabs, but whose were the hands that fashioned them?

"There seems to be an inscription," said Wyzinski, as he stooped over them. "I feel deep marks in the stone, but the earth has given way beneath them, and creeping plants have grown over them. All these three are cracked and broken."

"Here are three out of the six in a better state," said Hughes. "We can cut away the undergrowth."

"If we can get at one only that will be sufficient," said Wyzinski, eagerly, as the two cut away at the ma.s.ses of weed with their knives.

"Should there be any inscription, we may gain some knowledge to guide our future course."

It took a long time and much labour to clear away the undergrowth, and then but to meet with disappointment.

"The different wandering tribes who have camped here have used the slabs as fire-places," observed Wyzinski, sighing. "We must have water, and how can we get it here."

"Oh, easily," replied Hughes, whose experience of Indian life came to his aid. "With a buffalo hide we can make a bag which will hold water, and can be carried on a man's back. We call them bheasties in Madras."

"The black grime and the dirt of ages seems encrusted on the slabs of Gorongoza," remarked the missionary. "I can feel that there is an inscription, but I can't make it out. The dirt has become like stone, and will want long softening, before we can scoop it out."

"It seems to me, as far as fingers can tell, that the cuttings are of European form. This would go against your theory, Wyzinski."

"We will see that to-morrow," was the reply, as rising and shutting their knives the two took their way down to the plain, speculating moodily on the probable history of the slabs of Gorongoza.

The night set in wild and stormy, the thunder echoing among the mountains, and the rain falling in torrents, but when morning dawned, waking up the wild ducks among the long reeds, and bringing them out on the clear waters of the Golden River, rousing up the parrots and the monkeys in the neighbouring groves, and hushing the cries of the jackals on the plains, the air was cool and pleasant.

Clothes hung on the branches near, drying in the sunshine; rifles and guns were being cleaned, the fires were lighted, and the never ceasing process of cooking was going on. Luji and one of the Kaffirs were drawing the sides of a buffalo hide together by means of a string, so as to carry water, working under Hughes's direction. The missionary was busy with a small tool-chest, carefully selecting the objects which would aid in the proposed search. The leopard's skin, stretched on two sticks, was drying in the morning sunshine, and the baboon dodging here and there, doing all the mischief possible, and stealing everything it could lay its hands upon.