Newspapers / The Washington Gazette (Washington, … / Jan. 16, 1890, edition 1 / Page 1
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if J ft f Tkl A n J WEIRD ! .. i Are the Creation of Haggard's j Mind. Read the Story AUan vQuatermain's (Wife, OnTirstFageTo-dayvl VOL. XII. ' - WASHINGTON, BEAUFORT CO., N. 0 , THTTRSMY, JANUARY 16, 1890. - NO. 32. WWII WJWW . : : -T-. i r . i .ft, . . r s ' ' . ' POWDER Absolutely Pure. - poAv let- 'iievT ':V ar ?.. A marv e ly. htrri'iV.1 )rv i:. d vl.olf soli-one. ss 't .!:''.. in Utii'. thsiTi f.nlivary kinds 111! of pi ' At !' 11 If' the iinl'itihl'iol I'uv tv st,s, cliort weignt tl'fin (i"iliici!i;it(; io.V!!ers. Sol'l only in (;.!- 1-v the " .. ' : ' KoVAL r-AKINTr i'OWDEK CO., lix;, . ii St i n t . Now Y ik. For sii-le 1-y M (). Ii. M'Ai:i:OW. 11K1: TOKY. STATE ASH KKNMKVT. -(invcviiii!-, "Iiun'0-1 ''iwlc, of ake. LieuU-iiunW.it'V! nior. 'rinlinus M. IloH.- of Abu ii. ice. S.- n iary of Stale; Hlhun J. Siuinders -- of ';ike. : ' .. Tjeiisurer. i n:ll W Hfiin". of Wake. A'niUtor; ieol-i;e S aii'.lerlin, Wiiy ne. 'Snierintejidei!t ol I'id.lic- Isf ruction, , Sidiiev M KhiiH r. of- ( 'hnw Jim. 5t toriiey "(ienend. Tip '01mV F Piivitl son.joi' rKiit-oii;'. j-' "' ST VTK I!(A i:l OF Ati llH riITUK. Cornir. i.-sioner. John Kulunson. Serret.ii v, '1 K KnuK'T. lliruiioi, ii.ii-i .. - - 'Agent Jrnlnifcnitiun , F. M. W ilsou. J SCl'IiEM K t'OUKT. Chief Justice, Win II Smith,of W;ike. Associate Just ices; J J I 'avis, of "Frank lin'A npiistiis S.Merrimon,of Wake!, .Iaiue F. Slieuier'd, 'of Beaufort, .j and Alfonzp C A very,' of liuike. . JUWiES SUM liirtu COURT. First District, (ieorire II Urowp, of ' - F.eaufort. -Second Iistiict, Frederick Philips, of Kdecoinbe. -Third t'ustricr, II (1 -"Connor, of "Wilson Foui thTistricr. AV alter Clnrk, of Wake, ' Fifth Di.-trjot. John A (iilmer: Ciuilford. Sixth District. E T kiii, of Sampson. Seventh litstrict, James C- .Slcltae1, of . CvnnierlaiuU .'Fight District, tl T Armfield. Iredell. Ninth District, M F Graves, of Yadkin. Tenth District John G I'ynuni, Burke. 'Eleventh District, "NY-M Shipp, of Meek--- renbur?. -Twelfth District, James II.Merrimon, ot Huneombe. . VLl. I'll KS EN TAT1 V JSS 1 JS UUH U ivra. feen'aie, Zebulon IF Vance, of Mecklen - iitirK', V Hansom, of Xorth- nainiton . ' . : ! 4 ijlouse-ot liepieseritatives. First District Thumbs G Skinner, of Perquimans. Second lisrrict, II X' Cheatham, col., of Vance, - Third Ui-ttict.'C AV McCIamMy. Pender "Foiutli District, 1 M Bunn, of Nash. Fifth District, J M lirower,' of Surry.. 1 i. i i;c. i ;..t Ul'n,1 TJ,-1.. ml Se.vttuh Uisti tvV. J S lIeii(lerson, Kovan. -Eighth Ditc4ct,V II li Cowles", Wilkes. Ninth Di.-trict-; II (i Kwart. Henderson. ' COUNTY. -. Siivriff and Treasurer, 11 T Hodges. Snuerior court cleik; (i Wilken. .Hejtisterof Deeits, Sl F Williamson"., 'Surveyor, May E Waters. ? Coroner. Win II Caskins". . t otnini-r-ioneis Dr W J Hullock, ch'm: 1) M (taskill, K V , Hodges, F."I5; Hooker. T I Waters. J. II. Small, A;t"i'iiey. . : , '' . ioar.l -jf F.dlicaiifn!, P V Wilkinson, rh'tu: l'.II Johnson, F li Guilford. Sunn ktendent of Public Instruction, KiA - . Mardinp. . " . Snpt ) ll.-.vn'n. Di; W A '-Intuit. . , ( i I V. ' - vMa oi 4 t no.' 1 1 . siu;iil. : ' C)eVk. ,J A 'iiuru'cs. 'TTeaiu'rer, J 1'- Spamnv. ' :' .- Chief otM'ulicc.M. J. Fowler:.- ' CoimciluXn, .1 .11 Smali. -"'C-'W .Tayloe, . .yi-rioii, .ir. k: ,i. iiowi, o r Croinyft rA -1: Peyton, Clias Black : led lie. : s . . ' : MAILS. . . 'Northern due daii at Sp m. Ci'oses at Pi p in. ; . i-r - : ..: Greenville, duel 1..0. closes l:.'iO North .-uio' Sonl s!(le river due daily at y". ! . tinii; closes at follow ing morninfrs. ' .Ollice Hours, 'it'ii in to o p in. '.Un e,y Order.;ind' llectry Department, am to 'op in. G' E r.uckinan, P M. .i S. K. Cai fow,. Ass't. i " - Till kiiiks. v -MetluKlist, H-'v W K Ware, pastor. Ser" ,ices every unoay morninn anu yeniiur. Sunday School at 3 p m. A W Thomas. Superintendent. 'PivsbvU'rian. jllev E Mack, , pastor. j Service's every Sunday morning and "I j night.. Sunday School at 3 p m, Jas IJ-'-owie. Superintendent. -'Episcopal, He v Nat Harding, Hector. Services every Sunday morning and nitfht. Sunday schoof;at.3 pm, Rev ' Nt Harding, Superniiendent; Y. M. C, A. meets every Thursday , niht, Praver mee.tfng ' evcr Sunday at 4-o'clock p. m. lFal.l-.over Brown's Han-kj- . : :;. , ; , . " ; - I TEMI'EUANCK MKETINOS. . ' f Keformf Club, lllegnlar meeting every Tuesday night at 8 at Town Hall. C T U, Regular meeting eVery Thurs - da'v.4pin at Town. Hall J t-Club and -Cn ion l'lT.jf-r mer ting every Sunday. 'in Town Hall at 30 t m. i'liLdof Hope meets every Friday. Orr, Lodge1, 'No! 104. A F and A M meet ; ; ar Masonic-! Hall 1st mid 3rd Tues.lay - nights of each month, E.S Hojt, W M; R T IIodiTi-s. Sec- Phut nx Lodge, Ko 10. I O O F, meets every 1st and 3rd Friday night at their hall, C M 15nr.ni, N G: V J . Crura pier. Sec 'y. -- ?Va.Mmsv'ton i-odgt-v No 1.490, Knights (.Y Honor, meets 1st and 3rd Thurs- - dav nighti at Odd Fellows' Hall, T J ('ar.iual'ttjl)i-tator; .Arthur Mayo, reporter; J H lloss. F Reporter. ' xJbb-oro Council, No 350, American Le t gions of Honor, meets, every 2nd and 4th Tluirslav nights at Odd Fellows' Hill. M l?i-r.vn commandpr:' W M Chefrv, collector. -Pamneo Podge. No 7 1", Knights and ' Indies of Htrnr.i nieets '2nd and 4th '; , Monday idgbtS iir Odd Fellows' Hall, . I W Cherry, Protector;'!' P Brow n, ; Secretary!. . -I-'. .. '-,- rtxcelsior Lodge; No 3i; () G C, meets 1st and '2nd Tuesday night at Odd ; FellowVHall.Dr S. T. Nicholsoon comm-dudt-r, Dr H Snell. Secretary. ! QDATERMAIN'S f FK By H. EIDEE HAGGAEH Author of" Colonel Quaritcht V. C.J" "Mr. Wesson's Will," "A. Tale of Whree Lions," "Allan Quatermaih," . "She," "Jess," etc. CHAPTER I. I T 31 A i . j be re membcreq that in the last pages of his diai-jy, rit ten I just! before his death j Allan Quate rjtu a i n makes allusion to his1 longj dead wife, statig that he has written of her; fully - else where,. Whet hs death was known, his papers j were handed tq myself as his litef-ary ex ecutor. 'Among them I found two manuscripts, of which the following is one. The other is Bimply a record of events in vhichjSlr.-Quater-main was not Dersonall v coiicerned-a y - f- Zulunovel, the story of yhich was told to him by the hero many years after the rt.ra";edy had occurred. ; But with this we have nothing- to do at present. I have often thought . (Mr. Quater- 'main's manuscript begins) that I would' iset down on paper the events connected Iwith my marriage, and the loaSr of my Imost dear wife. Many years hajve now passed since that event, and to gome ex tent time has softened the oi grief, though heaven knows it is stjill keen lenough.' On two or three occasions. I 'have , even begun the record, j Once I gave it up because the writing of it de pressed me beyond bearing, onct because I suddeiily was called away : upon a journey i and the third time because a Kaffir boy found my manuscript con venient for lighting the kitchenjfire. i But now that I am at leisure: here in -'-T-. 1 1 T Ml 1. e Li.i.mn nngiaiiu, x w in maim a luuuu ttucuijji. If I succeed, the story may serve to in terest some one in after year when 1 1 am dead and gone. It is a wild tale enough, and suggests some curious re jections. " if , I am the son of a missionary. My father W'as originally curate in Charge of ia small parish in- Oxfordshire. I He had already been some years married to my jdear mother when he w-ent there, and jhe had four children, of whojn I was !the youngest. I remember faintly the pipe where we lived. It was ai ancient, longgray house, facing the road. There was a very large tree of some sprtin the garden. It was hollow, and wd children used to play about - inside oi it, and knock knots of wood from tfie rough bark. We all slept in a. kmd of . attic, and my mother always ; cam 4 up and kissed us when we were in bed. I used to wake up and see her bending over me, a candle in her hand. Thee was a curious kind of pole projecting from the iwall over my bed. Once I-.vSas dread Ifully frightened because ny eldest Ibrotlier made nie hang to ft by my hands. That is. all I remember about jour old home. It has been pulled down jlong at;o, or I, would jdurnejr there to 'see it. . ' - ' -' j A little- further down the rdad was a large house with big iron gateato it, and on the top of the gate pillars sat two stone lions, which were so lndtjous that I was afraid of them. One could see the house by. peeping through the bars of the gates. It wa3 a gloomy looking place, with a tall yew hedge round L-it; but inj the summer time some flowers grew round the sun dial in the grass plat. This house was called ! the Hall, and Squire Carson lived there. One Christ-. mad it must have oeen tneunnstmas before my father emigrated, dr I should not remember it we childrenlwent to a Christmas tree at the Hall. There was a great party there and footmen wearing red waistcoats stood at the dojjr. In the dining room, which was paifeled with black oak, was the Christinas tree. Squire Carson stood in front pf it. He was a tall, dark man, very quiet in his manners, and he-wore a buncjv of seals on his waistcoat. -We used to;;think him old, but as a matter, of fact he was then not more than forty. ; He hadfbeen, as I. afterwards learned, a great raveler in his youth, but some six or sven years before this date had married $ lady who was half a Spaniard called her. -a papist my father I can remember her well.) ane was small and verv brettv.: with a rounded figure, large black eyes arid glittering teeth. She spoke English with a curious accent. I suppose that ! rnusf have been . i . - . 1 T i a tmmy cnna to ioojs at, sma i Know that my hair stood up on my head then as it does now, for I Btill have, a sketch of nivsen that my mother made of me, in which this peculiarity is strongly marked. On this occasion oflthe Christ mas tree I remember that Jrrs. Carson turned to a tall, foreign looUing gentle man who stood beside her, and tapping him affectionately on the shoulder with her gold eyeglasses said: j -' "Look, cousin look at tha droll little boy with the big brown eyess his hair is like a what you call him?--scrubbing brush. Oh, what a droll little boyl The tflfli gentleman pulled at his mus- ;tache, and, taking Mrs. Carson's hand in Ihis, began to smooth my hair! down wjth it till I heard her whisper: ( j v "Leave go my hand, cousin. Thomas lis looking like like the thunderstorm." ' Thomas was the name of 'jUr. Carson, 'her husband. ". ! i After that I hid myself as well as I jcould behind a chair, for I -as shy, and watched little Stella Carson, who was ttfe squire's only child, givirig the chil dren presents off the treel She was dressed as Father Christmas, with some soft, white stuff round her j lovely little face, and had.large, dark eyjes, which 1 thought more beautiful than' anything I hail ever see.u.i At last it came to my turn to have a present oddly enough, considered in the tight of ' fujture events, it was a large monkey. Shd! reached it down from one of, the lower boughs of the tree and handed it-to me', saying: "Dat is my Christmas present to yoa, little Allan Quatermain." ; , As she did so, her sleeve, which waa covered with cotton wool, spangled over with somethmg that shone.'touched on pf the taper -how I do not know and caught fire, and the flame ran up her arm towards her throat. She stood quite BtilL 1 suppose that she was paralyzed with fear; and the ladies who were near screamed very loud, but did nothing. Then some impulse seized me perhaps instinct would be a better word to use,' considering my ago. I threw I myself upon the child, and, beating at the fire with iny hands, mercifully succeeded in extinguishing it before it really got hold. My wrists were so badly burned that they had to be wrapped up in wool for a long time afterwards, but with the ex ception of a single Durn upon her throat, little Stella Carson was not much hurt. Tit! y that I remem ber about the Cnristmas tree at the hall. Wfcat hap pened afterwards is lost to me, but to this day in my sleep I often see little Stella's sweet face and the stare of terror in her dark eyes as the fire ran up her arm. This, however, is not wonderful, for I had, humanly speaking, saved the life of her who was destined to be my wife. '..'.., : .'.' '- - The next event which I can recall clearly is that my mother and three brothers all fell ill of fever, owing, as I afterwards learned, to the poisoning of our well by some-revil minded person, who threw a dead sheep into it. ; It must have been while they were ill that Squire Carson came one day to the vicarage. The weather was 6till cold, for there was a fire in! the study, and I sat before the fire writing letters on a piece of paper . with a pencil, while my father walked up and down the room, talking to himself. Afterwards I knew that he was praying for the lives of . his wife and children. Presently a servant came to the door and said that Borne one wanted to see him. "It is the squire, sir," said ttie maid, "and. he says he particularly wishes to see you." . "Very well," answered my father, wearily, and presently Squire Carson came in. His face was white and hag gard, and his eyes shone so fiercely that I was afraid of him. J . "Forgive me for intruding on you at such a time, Quatermaiu," he said, in a hoarse voice, "but to-morrow Ij leave this place forever, and I wish to 6peak to yeu before I go indeed, I must speak to you." 1 "Shall I send Allan away?" sa4d my; father, pointing to me. "No, let him bide. He will not under stand." Nor, indeed, did I at the time,- but I remembered every vvord, and in after years their meaning grew on me.. "First tell me," he went on, "how are they?" and he pointed upwards with his thumb. . "My wife and two of the boys are be yond hope," my father answered, with a groan. "I do not know how It will go with the third. The Lord's will be done I" "The Lord's will be done," the squire echoed, solemnly. "And now, Quater main, listen my wife's gone." VGone!" my father answered. "Who with?" ' - "With that foreign cousin of hers. It seems from a letter she left that she al ways cared for ' him, not for me. She married me because she thought me a rich English, milord. Now she has run through my property, or most of it, and gone. I don't know where. Luckily, she did not care to encumber her new career with the child; Stella is left to me." " ; ; "'.'. - -.. I " ".' "That is what comes of marrying a papist, Carson," said my father. That was his fault; he was as good and charitable a man as ever lived, but he was bigoted. "What are you going to do follow her?" . He laughed bitterly in answer.. 'Follow her!" he said;-"why should I follow her? If I met her I might kill her or him, or both of them because of the shame they have brought upon my child's name. No, I never want to look upon her face again. I trusted her,' I tell you, and she has betrayed me. .Let her go and find her fate. But I am going too. I am weary of my life." "Surely, Carson, surely," said my father, "you do not mean" "No, no; not that. Death comes soon enough. But I will leave this civilized world that is a living lie. We will go right away into the wilds, my child and I, and hide our shame. Where? I don't know where. Anywhere so long as there are no white faces, no smooth, educated tongues "Yqu are mad, Carson,"my father an swered. "How will youlive? Howwill vou educate Stella? Be a man and live it down." "I will be a man, .and I will live it down, but not here, Quatermain. Edu cation! Was not she that woman who was my wife was not she highly educa ted? the cleverest woman in the coun try forsooth. Too clever for me, Quater main too clever by half . No, no, Stella shall be brought up in a different school; if it be possible, she shall forget her very name. Good-by, old friend, good-by for ever. Do not try to find me out, hence forth I shall be like one dead to you, to you and all I knew," and he was gone. "Mad," 6aidmy father, with a heavy sigh. "His trouble has turned hia brain, But he will think better of it." At that moment the nurse came hur rying in and whispered something in hia ear. My father's face turned deadly pale. He clutched at the table to support, him self, then staggered from the rooms My mother was dying, It was some days afterwards, I do not know exactly how long, that my father took me by the hand and led me upstairs into the big room that had been my mo ther's bedroom. There she lay, dead in her coffin, 'with flowers in her hand, AlOiig the wall of the room were ar ranged three little white beds, and on each of the beds lay one of my brothers. They all looked a.s though they were asleep, and they all had flowers in their hands. My father told me to kiss tliem all, because 5. should not see them any mote, and I did so, though I was very frightened. I did not know why. Then he took me in his arms and kissed me, The Lord hath given," he said, "and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." I ; 1 cried very much, and he took me downstairs, and after that I have only a confused memory of men dressed in black carrying heavy burdens towards the gray churchyard. Next comes a vision of a great ship and wide tossing waters. My father could no longer bear to live in England after the loss that had fallen on him, and made up his mind to emigrate to South Africa. We must have been poor at the time; indeed. I believe that a large portion of our income went from my father on my mother's deatn At any rate we traveled with the steers tge pas sengers, and the intense discomfort,oi the journey with the rough ways of our fellow emigrant still remain upon - my mind. At last . it. came to an end, and w Wrtob Afrif,b, wjiieb I was not to leave again for many, many years. In those days civilization had not made any great progress iri ! : southern Africa. My father went up the country and became a missionary among the Kaffirs, near to where the town of Cradock now stands, and here - -T j grew to manhood. There were a few Boer farmers in the neighbor hood, and gradually a little settlement of whites gathered round our mission station a drunken Scotch blacksmith and wheelwright was about the most in teresting character, who, when he was sober, could quote the Scottish poet I- Burns and the "Ingoldsby Legends" lit erally by the page. . It was from him that I contracted a fondness for the lat ter amusing left me. writings which has never Burns I never cared for so much, probably because; of the Scottish dialect, which repelled me. What little educa tion I got wast from nay father, but I never had much, leaning toward books, nor he much time to teach them to me. On the other hand, I was always a keen observer of the ivyays of men and na ture. By the time that I was 20 I could speak Dutch and three or four Kaffir dialects perfectly, and I doubt if there was. anybody inj South Africa who un derstood native jjways of thought and action more completely than I di I. Also I was really a goxkl shot and horseman, and I think as indeed, my subsequent career proves t6j have been the case a great deal .tougher than the majority of men--. ; : jj i It may be wondered that I did not run absolutely wild I Iri such surroundings, but I was held 1 back from this by;, my father's society, j j He was one of the gen tlest and most Refined men that I ever met; even the uiost savage Kaffir loved him, and . his influence was a very good one for me. He used to call himself, one of the world's faihires. Would that there were more such failures. E very e v e n in g when his work was done he would take his prayer book and, sitting on the little stoop of our station, would read the even ing psalms to himself. Sometimes there was not light enough for this, but it made no difference, he knew them all by heart. When he had finished he would look out across the cultivated lands where the mission Kaffirs had their huts. But I knew it was not these he saw, but rather the gray! English church, and the graves ranged side by side beforetfi jffvt near the wicket: gate. It was there on the stoop that he died. He had not been j well, and one evening I was talking tcf him, and his mind went back to Oxfordshire and my mother. He spoke of her a good deal, saying that she had never been out of his mind for a single day during all these years, and that he rejoiced :to think he was draw ing near that land whither she had gone. Then he asked tnie if I remembered that night when Squire Carson came into the study'at the vicarage, and told him that his wife had run away, and that he was going to) change his name and bury himself ifll some remote land. I said that I remembered it perfectly. "I wonder where he went to," said my father, "and if he and his daughter Stella are still alive. Well, well! I shall never meet them again. But life is a strange thing, Allan, and you may. If you ever do, give them my kind love." After that I left him. We had been Buffering moreithan usual from the dep redations of the Kaffir thieves, who stole our sheep at night, and, as I had done before, and j not. without success, I had determined to vatch the kraal and see if I could catch them. Indeed it was from this habit of mine of atching at night that I first got jnay native name of Ma cumazahn, which may be roughly trans lated as "he who sleeps -with one eye open." So I took my rifle- and rose to go. But he called me to him and kissed me on the forehead, savina;, "God bless you, Allan.! Trhbpe that you will think of your old fathftr sometimes, and that you will lead a good and happy life." I remember that 1 did not much like his tone at thei time, but set it down to an attack of ilqw spirits,' to which he grew very subject as the years went on I went down to the kraal and watched till within an hour or sunrise, then, . as no thieves appeared, returned to the sta tibri. As I came near I was astonished toseeafigure sitting in my father's chair At first I thought it must be a drunken Kaffir, then that my father had fallen asleep there. And so he had, indeed, for he was dead! HEN I had buried my father, and seen his successor installed in his place for the sta tion was the prop erty of the sqci ety I set to work to carry out a plan which I had long cherished, but been unable to execute, because it involved separa tion from my father. Put shortly, it was to undertake a trading journey of exploration right through the countries now known as !the Free State and the Transvaal, and Us much further north as I could go. lit was an adventurous scheme, for, though the emigrant Boers had begun j to occupy positions in these territories, they jwere still to all practi cal purposes ; unexplored. But 1 was now alone in the! world, and it mattered little what became of me; so, driven on by the overmastering love of adventure, which, old as' I am, will perhaps still be my cause of death, I determined to un dertake it. i Accordincrlv 1 sold such stock and eroods as we had upon the station, reserv ing onlv the fcw(i. best wagons and two pairs of oxen, j The proceeds I invested in such goods asj were then in fashion, for trading purposes, and, in guns and ammunition. The guns would have moved any modern explorer to merri menti but such as they were. I man aged to do a good deal of execution with them. hQnfi of them was a single barreled, smooth bore, fitted for percus sion caps a roer we called it which threw a three-ounce ball, and was charged with a handful of coarse black nowder. Manv is the elephant that I i ; II "I ' ;-; j CHAPTER II. killed with that roer, although it gener ally knocked me backwards when I fired it, which I only did imder compulsion. The best "of the lot, perhaps, was a dou ble barreled No. 12 shot gun, but it had flint locks. Also, there w ere some old j tower muskets, which might or might not throw straight at seventy yards. 1 took six Kaffirs with me, and three good horses, which were supposed to be salted that is, proof against .sickness. Among the Kaffirs was an old fellow named In-daba-zimbi, which, being translated, means "tongue of iron." I suppose he got this name from his strident voice and exhaustless eloquence. This man was a great character in his ; way. He had been a noted witch- doctor among a neighboring tribe, and came to the station under the following ; circumstances, which, as he plays a con- j siuerublc part in this history, are per- j haps worth recording. . ' Two years, before my father's death 1 ' had occasion to search the country round for some lost oxen. After a long and useless quest it Occurred to me that I had better go to tiie place where the oxen were bred by a Kaffir chief, whose name I forgot, but whose kraal was about fifty miles from our j station. There I went, and found the oxen safe I at home. The chief entertained me j handsomely, and on the following morn ing I went to pay my respects to him before leaving, and wa3 somewhat sur prised to find a collection of some hun dreds of men and women sitting round him anxiously watching the sky, in which the thunder-clouds were banking up in a very ominous way. .."You,, had better wait, white man," said the chief, "and see the rain doctors fight the lightning." I inquired what he meant, and learned that this man, Indaba:zimbi, had for' some years occupied the position of wizard-in-chief to the tribe, although he was not a member of it, having been born in the country now known as Zululand. But a son of the chiefs, a man of ' about 30, had lately set up as a rival in supernatural powers. This irri tated Indaba-zimbi beyond measure, and a quarrel ensued between the two witch doctors that resulted in a challenge to trial by lightning being given and ac cepted. These wrere the conditions. The rivals must await the coming of a serious thunderstorm, no ordinary tem pest would serve their turn. Then, carrying assegais .in '-their hands, they must take their stand within fifty paces of each other upon a certain patch of ground where the big thunderbolts were observed to strike continually, and by the exercise of their occult powers and Invocations to the lightning, must strive to avert death from themselves and bring it on their rival. The terms of this singular match .had been arranged a month previously, but no Btorm worthy of the occasion had arisen. Now the local weather prophets believed it to be brewing. I inquired what would .happen if neither 'of the men were struck, and was told that they must then wait for another 6torm. If they escaped the second time, however, they would be held to be equal in power, and be jointly consulted by "the tribe on occasions of importance. The prospect of being a spectator of so unusual a sight overcame my desire to be gone, and I accepted the chief's in vitation to see it out. Before midday I regretted it, 1 for though the western heavens grew darker and darker, and the still air heralded the coming of the storm, yet it did not come. By 4 o'clock it became obvious that it must burst soon at sunset, the old chief said, and in the company of the whole assembly I moved down to the place of combat. The kraal was built on the top of a hill, and below it the land sloped gently to the banks of a river about half a mile away On the hither aide of the bank was the piece of land that was, the na tives said, "loved of the lightning." Here the magicians took up their stand, while the spectators grouped themselves on the hillside about two hundred yards away, which was 1 thought, rather too near to be pleasant. ' When we had sat there for awhile my curiosity overcame me, and I asked leave of the chief to go down and inspect the arena. He said I might do so at my own risk. I told hini that the fire from above would not hurt white men, and went and found that it was a bed of iron Ore, thinly covered 'with grass, which of course accounted for its attracting the lightning from the storms as they trav eled along the line of the river. At each end of this ironstone area were placed the combatants, Indaba-zimba facing the east, and his rival the west, and before each there burned a little fire made of some scented root. Moreover, they were dressed in all the paraphernalia off their craft, snake skins, fish bladders, and I know not what besides, while round their necks hung circlets of baboons teeth and bones from human hands. First I went to the western end where the chiefs son stood. He was pointing with his assegai towards the advancing storm and invoking it in a voice of great ex citement. . "Come, fire, and lick up Indaba-zimbil "Hpar me. Storm Devil, and' lick Indaba-zimbi with your red tongue! "Spit on him with your rain! "Whirl him away in ypur breathl "Make him as nothing melt the mar row in his bones! "Run into his heart and burn away the lies! "Show all the people who is the true Witch Finder! "Let me not be put to shame in the' eyes of this white man!" , Thus he spoke, or rather chanted, and all the while rubbed his broad chest for he was a very fine man with some filthy compound of medicine ai monti'. After a while, getting tired of his song, I walked across the irorystone, to where Indaba-zimbi sat by' his fire. He was not chanting at all, but his per formance was much more impressive. It consisted in staring at 'the eastern sky, which was perfectly clear of cloud, and every now and again beckoning at it with his finger, then turning round to point with the assegai towards his rival. For a while I looked at him in silence. He was a curious wizened man, appa rently over fifty years of age, with thin hands that looked as tough as wire. Hia nose was much sharper than is usual among these races, and he had a queer habit of holding his. head sideways like a bird when he spoke', which, in addi tion to the humor that' lurked in his eye, gave him a most comical appearance. Another strange thing about him was , that he had a single white lock of hair At last I spoke - 4 to him: - r "Indaba-zimbi, my friend,'1' I said, "you may be a good witch doctor, but l - f t Ti ' ' . . J you are certainly a iooi. it is no goou beckoning at the blue sky while your enemy is getting a start with the storm." "You may be clever, but don t think you know everything, white man," the old fellow ansivered, in a high cracked voice, anil with something likei a grin. : . f'They tail you Iroutongue," I went on; "you had better use it, or the Storm DeviFwon't hear you." - ! "The fire from above runs down iron," he answered, "so I keep my tor gue quiet. Oh, yes, let him curse away, 111 put him out presently. Look now, white man." I looked, and in the eastern! sky there grew a cloud. At first it was small, but very black, but it gathered with 'extraor dinary rapidity. . This was odd enough, butj as I had seen the same thing happen before 'it did not particularly astonish me.j .It is by no means unusual in Africa for two thunderstorms to come up at the same "time from different points of the com pass. ' "You had better goon, Indaba-zimbi," I said, "the big storm is coming along fast, and will soon eat up that baby yours, and I pointed to the w'est. Babies sometimes grow, to giants, white man," said Indaba-zimbi, beckon ing away vigorously. "Looklnow at my cloud-child." . ' 1 j I looked; the eastern storm had spread itself from earth to sky, and in shape resembled an enormous man; There was its head, its shoulders, and its legs; yes, it was like a 'huge giant, traveling across -the heavens. The light of the setting sun' escaping from beneath the lower edge of the western storm 6hot across the intervening space in a sheet of splendor, and, lighting tip the ad- vancing figure, wrapped its middle in : hues of glory, too wonderful to be de- scribed; but beneath and above- this glowing belt . his feet and black as jet. Presently, as head were watched, an awful flash of lisht 6hot from the head of the cloud and circled it about as though with a crown of living fire aad vanished. - i .'Aha," chuckled old, Indaba-zimbi, "mv little boy is putting- on his man s ring," and he tapped the green ring on his own. head, which natives assume when they reach a certain age and dig nity. 'Tsow, white man, unless you are a bigger wizard than either of us you had better clear off, for thi fire fight is about to begin." I thought this sound advic e ".Good luck go with you, my black uncle," I said. "I hope you don't feel the iniquities of a misspent life weighing i on you at the last." 'You look after yourself, and think of vour own sins, vounir man." he an swered, with a grim smile, ind taking af pinch of snuff, and at that very moment a flash of lightning, I don't know from which storm, struck the ground within thirty paces of me. That was enough for me. I fairly took to my heels, and as I went I heard old Indaba-zimbi's dry chuckle of amusement. " I climbed the hill till I came t: where the chief was gittins with his Indunas, and sat down near. to him. I looked at the man's face and saw that he was in tensely anxious for his son's safety, and by no means confident of his powers to resist the magic of Indaba-zimbi. He was talking in a low voice to the Induna next to him. , "Hearken!" the chiej was saying, "if the magic of Indaba-zimbi prevails against my son, I will endure him no more. Of this I am 6ure, that vvhen he has slain my son he will slay mey me also, and make himself chief in my place. I fear Indaba-zimbi. On!" "Black one," answered the Induna, "wizards die as dogs die, and, once dead, dogs bark no more." ;' "And once dead," said the chief, "wiz ards work no more 6pells," and he bent and whispered in the Induna's ear, look ing at the assegai in his hand as he whis pered. ' "Good, my father, good!" said the In duna, presently. "It shall be done to night, if the lightning does not do it first." "A bad lookout for old Indaba-zimbi,'-I said to myself. . "They mean to kill him." Then I thought no more of the matter for a while the scene before me was too tremendous. The two storms were rapidly rushing together. ' ? The silence deepened and deepened, the shadows grew blacker and blacker, then suddenly all nature began to moan beneath the breath of an icy wind, j On came the wind, the smooth surface of the river was ruffled by it into little waves, the tall grass boved low before it, and in its wake came the hissing sound of furious rain. i Ah! the storms had met. From each there burst an awful dazzling blaze of Ugh t and now the hill on which we sat rocked in the noise of the following thunder. The light went out of the sky. darkness fell suddenly on the land) but not for long. Presently the whole land scape grew vivid in the gashes; it ap peared and disappeared; now' every thing was visible for miles, now even the men at my side vanished in the blackness. Suddenly the thunder and lightning ceased for a minute, and everything" grew black, and, except for the ram, si lent. ' ; "It is over, one way or the other, Chief, I called out into the darkness. "Wait, white man, wait," answered the chief in a voice thick with anxiety and fear. Hardly were the words out o bia mouth when the heavens were lit up again till they literally seemed to jflame., There were the men, not four paces apart. A great flash fell between them; I saw them 6tagger beneath the shock, i Indaba-zimbi recovered himself first at any rate.when the next flash came he was standing bolt upright, pointing with his assegai to wards his enemy. The chief s son was still on his legs, but he was staggering like a drunken man, and the assegai had fallen from his hand. , Darkness, then again a flash, more fearful, if possible,-than any that had gone before. To me it seemed to come from the east, right over the head of Indaba-zimbi. Next instant I saw the chiefs 6on wrapped, as it were, in the the rairi burst over us like a torrent, and I saw no more. The worst of the storm was done, but for awhile the darkness was so dense that we could not move, nor, indeed, among bis black wooL i I 1 was I inclined to leave the safety of the hillside w here thej lightning was never known to strike and. venture down to the ironstone. Occasionally there still i came flasi res, but, search as we would, we could see no trkce of either of the wizards. For my part, I believed that they were! both dead. Now the clouds slowly rolled away down the course of the river, land with-it went the rain; and now the spars shone" out in their wake. Let usigo and see," said the old chief. risings and. shaking the water from his hair. "The fire fiiht has ended, let us go and see who has conquered." I rose and followed him, dripping as though I had swum a hundred yards with my clothes oh, and after me came all the people of the kraal. " We reached the 6pot; even , in that light I could see jwhere the ironstone had been fcplit and fused by the thunder bolts. While I was looking about me, I suddenly leard the chief , who was on my right, give a low moan, and saw the people cl uster roupd him. I went , up and lookf d. Ther, on the ground, lay the body of his son. He was a dreadful 6ight. His hair was burned off his head, the copper rings upon his arms were fused, the assegai handle which ray near was literally shivered into threads, and, when I took hold f his arm, it seemed to me that every bone of it was broken. The mep with th chief stood gazing Bilently, while the ivomen wailed. "Greatjis the magic of Indaba-zimbi," said a niajn at length. The chief turned and 6trucjk him a heavy blow with the kerrie in Jiis hand, f "Great he cried, or not, thou dog, he shall die," "and soshalt thou if thou sing- est his praises so loudly." I said nothing, but thinking itfprobable that Indalba-zimbi had shared the fate of his enemy, went tq' look. But I could see nothihg of him, and at length, being thoroughly chilled with the wet, started back to my wagon1 to get a change of clothes. On reaching it, I was rather sur prised to isee a strange Kaffir seated on the driviig box wrapped up in a blanket. "Hullol! -come out of that," I said. The figjure on the box slowly unrolled the blanket, and wilh great deliberation took a pipch of snuff. "It wak a good fire fight, white man, was it i ot?" said ndaba-zimbi, in his high, cracked voice; "But he never had a chances against me, poor boy. fie knew nothing about) it. See, white man, what con les of presumption in the young. It is s,ad,very sad, but I made the flashes fly, didn 1 1?" "You old humbug," I said, "unless you are careful you will soon learn what comes ot presumption in the old. for your chief is after ;you with an assegai and it will take all Jour magic to dodge tnat. i i ' "Nowh-ou don't sav so," said Indaba- zimbi, clambering off the wagon with rapidity "and all because of this wretch ed, upstart. There's gratitude for you, white man. '1 expose mm, and they want to kill me. Well, thank you for the hint. We; shall meet again before long," and he was one like a shot, and not too soon, for just then some men came up to the wagon. On thp following morning I started homewards. The first face I! saw on ar- riving ai the station was that? of Indaba- "How do you do, Macumazahn?" he J said, holding his head on one side and nodding his white lock. "I hear you are Christians here!; and I want to try.a new religion. ! Mirie must be a bad one. ! seeing taat my people wanted to kill me for exposing an impostor." (To pe continued next week.) A Perfect Christmas Day. On Christmas 'day twelve months; ago, the poetic and eloquent Grady whose! Heath WP announce above wrote the following tender, touch ing andi eloquenj article upon, the splendop and the beauty of the heav-f enly baptised day. On this Christ4 mas daf, twelve month afterwards; his nob! e clay was consigned to' the bosom f that Mother Earth that him so entrancing; then seemed to and so beautiful. He said: No man bjr Avoman now living w.ni see agan such a Christinas dav as the qhe wliic when tie dying i closed yesterday!, sun piled the wesv stern sKies with pgold and purple. A winter Clay it was, shot to the core with sunshine. It was enchanting to walk abroad in (its prodigal beauty . to brea he its elixir , to reach out the hanils and plunge them open-fin gered through its pulsing waves of warmtb and freshness. It was June and November welded and fused in to a petrect glory that held sun shine aid snow beneath tender and splendiijl skies. To have winnowed the teeming winter such a day from; was to have found an odorus peach on a bough whipped in the stor.rris of winter. One caught musk of yel- low grain, the! tlavor of ripening nuts, the fragrance of straw berries, violets, the the exquisite odor of aroma off all seasons in the wronderful dav. The; hum of bees underrode the whistling wings of wild geese flying ! outhwarjli . The fires slept in drowsing grate?, while the people marveling out-doors, watched -'the soft winds woo the roses and! the lil ies .Tray it wasaday of days. Amid its riotdus luxury surely life was worth 1 ving, tcj hold up the head and breathe it in as thirsting men drink -water; tokput every sense on its grac ous excellece; to throw the hands vide apart and hug whole armf uls of the day close to the heart till the heart' itself is enraptured and illumined. I God's benediction came ddwrt with the day, slow drop ping fr6m the iskies. God's smile was its light, and all through itssu- i Pernal f aut J ?fd stillness unspoken but andealinsr to every heart and: sanctifying every soul, was invoca tion anl promise, "Peace on earth, jrood wtill to men." Mirror, PROFESSIONAL AK3 BUSISESS CARD JJOTE-Lj U E Ii KI AM, WASHINGTON, N. 0. 1 FMrst clas-j accommodation dies Cars leave Hot a. nil for La arrive 9 p. m. 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Will be at Aurora every. 1st and 3rd Wednesday nights, and at Pantegp ever 2nd and 4th ednt-sday niehls. novlo ly Z. MORTON "attorney jr., ! AT-LAW WASHINGTON, N. -C. )Jits V ill practice in the Courts of the District and in-Martin couui. Special attention given to jthe collec tion of claims aud con vejunuing. i Uihce .formerly occupied by the late C. b. mil- B AN K IN 0 HOUSE -OF- C. M. BROWN MAIN STREET, WAi&IlNqTOK, N. C. Collections! solicited aud (remittance made promptly. i Exchange bought and soid. JJOTEL ALBERT. j NEW BERNE, N. C. t All the Modem Convenience. THE KING HOUSE, 1 GREEN VI LL15, Ni C. MBS. Pleasantly situated in business part of.. the city. Large addition to buildings. Every comfort the Traveling Public can wish. I he best table the market will afford. Stop: at the King House, and you will istop Again. I SAAC A.! SUGG, -. i ' i I ATTORNEY-AT-IiAW, Late of Rodman, Sugg 4 James. GREENVILLE, N. : C. . Office old stand of Rodman, Sugff & James. 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The Washington Gazette (Washington, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Jan. 16, 1890, edition 1
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