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quarrelled violently to collect his debts instead of one of his own
beloved Boers； I am sure I do not know。 I will go and write to him。
Allan； see that the messenger and his horse get something to eat。〃
I nodded and went to the man； who was one of those that had defended
Maraisfontein with me； a good fellow unless he got near liquor。
〃Heer Allan；〃 he said； looking round to see that we were not overheard；
〃I have a little writing for you also；〃 and be produced from his pouch a
note that was unaddressed。
I tore it open eagerly。 Within was written in French； which no Boer
would understand if the letter fell into his hands：
〃Be brave and faithful； and remember； as I shall。 Oh！ love of my heart；
adieu； adieu！〃
This message was unsigned； but what need was there of signature？
I wrote an answer of a sort that may be imagined； though what the exact
words were I cannot remember after the lapse of nearly half a century。
Oddly enough； it is the things I said which I recall at such a distance
of time rather than the things which I wrote； perhaps because； when once
written； my mind being delivered； troubled itself with them no more。 So
in due course the Hottentot departed with my father's letter and my own；
and that was the last direct communication which we had with Henri or
Marie Marais for more than a year。
I think that those long months were on the whole the most wretched I
have ever spent。 The time of life which I was passing through is always
trying； that period of emergence from youth into full and responsible
manhood which in Africa generally takes place earlier than it does here
in England； where young men often seem to me to remain boys up to
five…and…twenty。 The circumstances which I have detailed made it
particularly so in my own case； for here was I； who should have been but
a cheerful lad； oppressed with the sorrows and anxieties； and fettered
by the affections of maturity。
I could not get Marie out of my mind； her image was with me by day and
by night； especially by night； which caused me to sleep badly。 I became
morose； supersensitive； and excitable。 I developed a cough； and
thought； as did others； that I was going into a decline。 I remember
that Hans even asked me once if I would not come and peg out the exact
place where I should like to be buried； so that I might be sure that
there would be no mistake made when I could no longer speak for myself。
On that occasion I kicked Hans； one of the few upon which I have ever
touched a native。 The truth was that I had not the slightest intention
of being buried。 I wanted to live and marry Marie； not to die and be
put in a hole by Hans。 Only I saw no prospect of marrying Marie； or
even of seeing her again； and that was why I felt low…spirited。
Of course； from time to time news of the trek…Boers reached us； but it
was extremely confused。 There were so many parties of them； their
adventures were so difficult to follow； and； I may add； often so
terrible； so few of them could write； trustworthy messengers were so
scanty； distances were so great。 At any rate； we heard nothing of
Marais's band except a rumour that they had trekked to a district in
what is now the Transvaal； which is called Rustenberg； and thence on
towards Delagoa Bay into an unknown veld where they had vanished。 From
Marie herself no letter came； which showed me clearly enough that she
had not found an opportunity of sending one。
Observing my depressed condition； my father suggested as a remedy that I
should go to the theological college at Cape Town and prepare myself for
ordination。 But the Church as a career did not appeal to me； perhaps
because I felt that I could never be sufficiently good； perhaps because
I knew that as a clergyman I should find no opportunity of travelling
north when my call came。 For I always believed that this call would
come。
My father； who wished that I should hear another kind of call； was vexed
with me over this matter。 He desired earnestly that I should follow the
profession which he adorned； and indeed saw no other open for me any
more than I did myself。 Of course he was right in a way； seeing that in
the end I found none； unless big game hunting and Kaffir trading can be
called a profession。 I don't know； I am sure。 Still； poor business as
it may be； I say now when I am getting towards the end of life that I am
glad I did not follow any other。 It has suited me； that was the
insignificant hole in the world's affairs which I was destined to fit；
whose only gifts were a remarkable art of straight shooting and the more
common one of observation mixed with a little untrained philosophy。
So hot did our arguments become about this subject of the Church； for；
as may be imagined； in the course of them I revealed some unorthodoxy；
especially as regards the matter of our methods of Christianising
Kaffirs； that I was extremely thankful when a diversion occurred which
took me away from home。 The story of my defence of Maraisfontein had
spread far； and that of my feats of shooting； especially in the Goose
Kloof； still farther。 So the end of it was that those in authority
commandeered me to serve in one of the continual Kaffir frontier wars
which was in progress； and instantly gave me a commission as a kind of
lieutenant in a border corps。
Now the events of that particular war have nothing to do with the
history that I am telling； so I do not propose even to touch on them。 I
served in it for a year； meeting with many adventures； one or two
successes； and several failures。 Once I was wounded slightly； twice I
but just escaped with my life。 Once I was reprimanded for taking a
foolish risk and losing some men。 Twice I was commended for what were
called gallant actions； such as bringing a wounded comrade out of danger
under a warm fire； mostly of assegais； and penetrating by night； almost
alone； into the stronghold of a chieftain； and shooting him。
At length that war was patched up with an inconclusive peace and my
corps was disbanded。 I returned home； no longer a lad； but a man with
experience of various kinds and a rather unique knowledge of Kaffirs；
their languages； history； and modes of thought and action。 Also I had
associated a good deal with British officers； and from them acquired
much that I had found no opportunity of studying before； especially； I
hope； the ideas and standards of English gentlemen。
I had not been back at the Mission Station more than three weeks； quite
long enough for me to begin to be bored with idleness and inactivity；
when that call for which I had been waiting came at last。
One day a 〃smous〃； that is a low kind of white man； often a Jew； who
travels about trading with unsophisticated Boers and Kaffirs； and
cheating them if he can； called at the station with his cartful of
goods。 I was about to send him away； having no liking for such gentry；
when he asked me if I were named Allan Quatermain。 I said 〃Yes；〃
whereon he replied that he had a letter for me； and produced a packet
wrapped up in sail…cloth。 I asked him whence he had it； and he answered
from a man whom he had met at Port Elizabeth； an east coast trader； who；
hearing that he was coming into the Cradock district； entrusted him with
the letter。 The man told him that it was very important； and that I
should reward the bearer well if it were delivered safely。
While the Jew talked （I think he was a Jew） I was opening the
sail…cloth。 Within was a piece of linen which had been oiled to keep
out water； addressed in some red pigment to myself or my father。 This；
too； I opened； not without difficulty； for it was carefully sewn up； and
found within it a letter…packet； also addressed to myself or my father；
in the handwriting of Marie。
Great Heaven！ How my heart jumped at that sight！ Calling to Hans to
make the smous comfortable and give him food； I went into my own room；
and there read the letter； which ran thus：
〃MY DEAR ALLAN；I do not know whether the other letters I have written
to you have ever come to your hands； or indeed if this one will。 Still；
I send it on chance by a wandering Portuguese half…breed who is going to
Delagoa Bay； about fifty miles； I believe； from the place where I now
write； near the Crocodile River。 My father has named it Maraisfontein；
after our old home。 If those letters reached you； you will have learned
of the terrible things we went through on our journey； the attacks by
the Kaffirs in the Zoutpansberg region； who destroyed one of our parties
altogether； and so forth。 If not； all that story must wait； for it is
too long to tell now； and； indeed； I have but little paper； and not much
pencil。 It will be enough to say； therefore； that to the number of
thirty…five white people； men； women and children； we trekked at the
beginning of the summer season； when the grass was commencing to grow；
from